Old Houses

We spent the weekend in north-central Illinois visiting my parents. I wish I'd had time to take more pictures of this old house. My grandfather grew up there in the early part of the 1900's, when there was a patchwork of thriving family farms in these rural townships. Now this house (and many others) are magnets for vandals in their isolation in the corn and soybean fields. Next week the volunteer fire department is going to burn it down to practice their firefighting skills.


My kids did get a chance to sleep on my parent's sleeping porch (above), which I see has only eight double windows, not the twelve I remembered. This does make a total of sixteen handles to crank when a storm blows up, however, as it did at sunrise Sunday morning, so my kids got to experience that part of my childhood.

The Happy Feminist has an interesting post on Home and Rootlessness. I grew up in the same house my that father did (the one pictured above that his father built), went to the same grade school a block and a half away, and even had the same third grade teacher, who retired the year after I had her. I grew up hearing stories about my ancestors in the area (see Captivity of Sylvia and Rachel Hall), with grandmothers who were interested in genealogy. I think this "sense of place" probably contributed a lot to my adult interests in archaeology, history, and environment. And though it's hard to imagine living in my hometown again, I know I would feel a great sense of loss if it vanished or was bombed out of existence - and not just because of all of the family members that still live there.

Zoom Clouds

In Praise of Porches

The heat wave has finally broken, and because we have a good sized front porch, we can keep the front windows wide open with the curtains billowing in, even with a real downpour coming from that direction. This is much better than yesterday's hermetically sealed situation, though everything feels a little damp. Earlier, we had fun sitting on the porch swing watching the streets and sidewalks flood.



NPR had a couple of good stories on front porches and their come back this week: Sitting on the Porch: Not a Place, But a State of Mind and Porches Knit Together New Urbanist Communities.

I love porches in all their variety. My parents (who still live in the house that I grew up in, which my grandfather built in the late 1920's) have three porches: a front porch, with chairs and ferns, where my father used to smoke cigars and watch the neighbors; a screened-in back porch, where we used to eat dinner on hot summer evenings; and above the back porch, the sleeping porch, a wonderful room with knee-to-ceiling windows on three sides, surrounded by trees. I remember being excited when my brother went to college, because then I got the sleeping porch all to myself. Waking up on the sleeping porch as a storm blew in was particularly exciting - cranking twelve old casement windows closed as lightning flashed and rain blew at you really got the adrenaline going.

John Richard Lindermuth blames the loss of porches on the advent of tv and air conditioning. I think that a preference for decks (mostly in the back of the house) might also have something to do with it. Anyway, here's a neat photo essay: The Evolution of the American Front Porch.

Edited on 4 Aug 2006 to add another cool link: The Rise and Decline of the American Front Porch, from the Montana Heritage Project. This author ties the rise to transcendentalism and increased interaction with nature (along with architectural pattern books), and the decline to a loss of community and car exhaust. Maybe.

Tags: porches, history

Dog Days

We're there. The doldrums, the dog days, the days when the humidity is so high that my 9 year old's glasses get steamed up the minute he goes outside. Usually when we're home in the summer, we have the sliding glass doors and windows wide open, and the kids and the bugs (bugs usually in containers) and the dog are in and out constantly. Last week we even went out during a couple of downpours.


This week, with a heat index of 104 and above, I turned the central AC on. We might as well be on another planet, or trapped by a blizzard, but at least I'm not sweating just sitting here, getting increasingly and irrationally irritable.

Cool Comfort: America's Romance with Air-Conditioning is an entertaining read on the history of AC, if you don't try to take it too seriously and you have a tolerance for academic jargon. As much as I agree that porches, sleeping porches, and big windows are wonderful, on days like this I am happy to press a button to cool most of the house down.

Poverty, Class, and Lebanon

..are featured in the 20th Carnival of Feminists at Super Babymama. Go and read it.

The Thunder Tree: Book Review

The Thunder Tree: Lessons from an Urban Wildland, by Robert Michael Pyle, is a hard book to summarize. I think the different chapters work better as free-standing essays. Some of them waxed so eloquent I was in tears (and I’m not even pregnant, so I don’t cry at the drop of a hat anymore), and a few others I had to struggle to finish because I got mired in the plants, ecological relationships, and butterfly species Pyle describes. If you are acquainted with Denver and the history of its suburbs, or the history of water use in the western US, you’ll also like The Thunder Tree, but I imagine that this isn’t a huge group of readers.

It is probably more interesting to most as an autobiographical work that combines personal stories about growing up in Aurora, Colorado in the 50’s & 60’s with a look at the importance of “wasteland” (specifically, the High Line Canal) to both children and local ecology. If you want to learn more about how kids interact with nature, you have to read the chapter
“The Extinction of Experience” – it is one of the best things on this I’ve ever read. It deserves to be reprinted somewhere with a much larger audience. So check this out of your library, order it on amazon or half.com (seventy-five cents for hardcover! Unbelievable), put it on your paperbackswap.com wish list, and then skim through the parts that don’t grab you and read the rest when you need to learn something profound about the importance of place, parks, vacant lots, creeks and ditches, children’s play, and bugs.

Here's some interesting biographical information on Pyle and his work, including a link to an online story called The Way of the Monarch that illustrates why I like his writing so much - it combines people and place in such a compelling way.

Hummingbird Moths and Other Insects

I guess blogging about my arthropod-filled composter, my hidous cache of compost on the kitchen counter, and the bugs on our swamp milkweed brought a whole new genre of Google searchers to my blog. "Bagworm and revolution", "found earwigs in my kitchen", and "tiny maggots" have replaced "fat housewife blogger" and "housewife 1 on 1" as the most recent keywords that Google has directed here. Maybe that's an improvement, although I'm really wondering about bagworms and their revolution. Evolution, yes, but revolution? I don't even want to think about the bagworm revolution. And except for a few earwigs that came in nestled into some flowers (quickly removed), we don't have earwigs in our kitchen.

Meanwhile, our swamp milkweed (aka rose silkweed, flesh-colored milkweed, rabbit milk, rose milkweed, silkplant, swamp silkweed, water nerve root, and white Indian hemp - so called because its fiber was used by several Native American groups - check out Dan Moerman's wonderful database here) is attracting hordes of butterflies: monarchs every time I look, tiger swallowtails, some giant black butterfly with orange and blue on the outside of its wing that may be a black swallowtail. The most interesting nectar-sipper we've noticed in the last few days has been a giant hummingbird moth. It is almost as large as a hummingbird (which we also have, but they seem to prefer the jewelweed and the hummingbird feeders).

It looks like ours is the hummingbird clearwing moth, or Hemaris thysbe, which is a type of sphinx or hawkmoth. I had no idea that this is the kind of creature that comes from those disgusting hornworms.

The Second Stage: Book Review

The future of the family is

an overriding feminist issue.
~ Betty Friedan, on page 73
of The Second Stage

The Second Stage, written by Betty Friedan, was first published in 1981 - twenty-five years ago. This was the year after Reagan was elected. I was 18 and had just voted for the first time (and not for Reagan). This was also the beginning of the end of the fight for the ERA, as Friedan laments in her often overlooked and occasionally vilified book on what she perceived as the next stage of feminist "evolution", or the most important issues facing the women's movement that she helped found in the 60's with her publication of The Feminine Mystique.

Reading this in 2006 gave me a big dose of that "history repeats itself" feeling. In addition to critiquing what she saw as some of the excesses of feminism (which she called "the feminist mystique", as opposed to the "feminine mystique"), Friedan also examined Reagan-era politics and their relationship to women's emerging roles and issues. The similarities to the last six years of Bush politics are striking.

And Friedan seems positively prescient when she looks at what is now termed "work-life balance", child care, flexible work, maternity and paternity leave, and the danger that the right wing would claim "the family" and "family values" if feminists didn't address the problems engendered by their own revolution:

But what about the family work? The responsibility that used to be the woman's, in the home and family, as the man's duty was earning the money, out in the real world? How are we to put a value on family work? What is it really worth, compared to that other money-earning kind of work? How long will she keep doing it, by herself, if it's not valued, or shared?

....Still, the sophisticates who shrug off all this hysteria about the family as sentimental cant betray their own blind spot. We have to break through the cant and the blind spot and deal with the problems of the family now, which neither feminists nor antifeminists can avoid in real life (p. 70).

Why, with the majority of mothers now working, haven't feminists put as much energy into the battle for a multifaceted approach to child care - developing new options, using services and funds from a variety of sources...demanding tax incentives and innovations like a voucher system - as they have put into the battles against sex discrimination or for abortion?....There was, in fact, cold silence, or even open annoyance, in various feminist ranks in response to our appeal, in the fall of '79, that the women's movement come to grips with the practical problems of the family which our move to equality entails (p. 73).

It seems like it has only been in the last ten years (or less) that most feminists have really taken motherhood and its problems seriously again - as shown by the many websites and books discussing the two and how they've proliferated in the last decade.

Note the new page on Mothers and Caregivers Economic Rights on NOW's website, for instance, and the founding of the Mothers Movement Online in 2003. Then there's this year's Momsrising.org and the publication of The Motherhood Manifesto, by Joan Blades and Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner. The recent frenzy of discussion on "the mommy wars" can even be seen as evidence of increased attention on what Friedan characterized as feminism's failure and blind-spot:

To the degree that feminists collude in assuming an inevitable, unbridgeable antagonism between women's equality and the family, they make it a self-fulfilling prophecy (p. 74).

Equality in jobs, without taking into account family, leaves women doubly burdened. And equality in the family isn't real for women if it is isolated from economic measures of worth and survival in the world....Part of the problem comes from the lack of real economic measures or political attention to the previously private woman's work, in home and family, an irreducible minimum of which is necessary for human and society's survival...(p. 80)


The women's movement did not fail in the battle for equality. Our failure was our blind spot about the family. It was our own extreme of reaction against that wife-mother role: that devotional dependence on men and nurture of children and housewife service which has been and still is the source of power and status and identity, purpose and self-worth and economic security for so many women - even if it is not all that secure any more (p. 156).

There were some passages that I didn't find particularly enlightening or interesting (such as Friedan's discussion of Alpha vs. Beta politics, and the look at cadets in the newly integrated West Point), but overall I found
The Second Stage a surprisingly timely and interesting work. I was a bit uncomfortable with her continued use of "evolution" (with its connotation of directed evolution towards progressive ends, as opposed to the more biological or modern anthropological use of the term), but that's minor in the scheme of things.

The parts of the book for which some feminists scorned Friedan for betraying feminism, I saw as again, relatively minor asides. She basically quibbled with the second wave feminists' focus on sexual identity, sexual discrimination, "rape culture", and abortion at the expense of economic inequality for women in families. Friedan never actually comes out and says the former are not important, but she does repeatedly argue against the polarization of politics that emphasizing these issues may incur. I'm not sure if that's a good or complete explanation for changes in feminism and national politics in the last 25 years, but it's interesting to ponder. Friedan herself sees this polarization at least partially as an over-reaction to the "feminine mystique", where the feminists wanted to get as far away from their housewife roots as possible.

While reading more about the transition from second wave to third wave (but "second stage"?) feminism, I ran across this interesting article & interview - The End of Herstory, by Kay S. Hymowitz - published in 2002, that explores some of the generational differences (in feminism, and popular culture as a whole) that I straddle. Although Hirshman is mentioned (as one of the old-style "radical" feminists), I thought it was interesting that Friedan's Second Stage was not - although Hymowitz does describe a "Feminist mystique" and "feminist career mystique". I don't think Hymowitz could still say that "Motherhood too interests orthodox Feminists only insofar as it overturns bourgeois norms."

19th Carnival of Feminists

...is up at Figure: Demystifying the Feminist Mystique. It's got borgs, and snowflakes, and lots on careers and feminism, and Frida Kahlo, Rwanda, the gendering of housework, and quite a lot more on the intersection of race, class, and gender. If this Carnival were a magazine I'd be so impressed with its quality and its ever-changing (but related) subjects, and willing to pay for it. But it's free, and it doesn't have advertising. Amazing, go and read.

Now We Can Begin...Eighty-Six Years Later

It never ceases to amaze me when something written generations ago seems as fresh and relevant today as it was for our grandmothers. I've added the bold emphasis, for passages I think are relevant to current debates.

What, then, is "the matter with women"? What is the problem of women's freedom? It seems to me to be this: how to arrange the world so that women can be human beings, with a chance to exercise their infinitely varied gifts in infinitely varied ways, instead of being destined by the accident of their sex to one field of activity - housework and child-raising.

And second, if and when they choose housework and child-raising, to have that occupation recognized by the world as work, requiring a definite economic reward and not merely entitling the performer to be dependent on some man.

...It must be womanly as well as manly to earn your own living, to stand on your own feet. And it must be manly as well as womanly to know how to cook and sew and clean and take care of yourself in the ordinary exigencies of life. I need not add that the second part of this revolution will be more passionately resisted than the first. Men will not give up their privilege of helplessness without a struggle. The average man has a carefully cultivated ignorance about household matters -- from what to do with the crumbs to the grocer's telephone number -- a sort of cheerful inefficiency which protects him better than the reputation for having a violent temper. It was his mother's fault in the beginning, but even as a boy he was quick to see how a general reputation for being "no good around the house" would serve him throughout life, and half-consciously he began to cultivate that helplessness until today it is the despair of feminist wives.

...Cooperative schemes and electrical devices will simplify the business of homemaking, but they will not get rid of it entirely. As far as we can see ahead people will always want homes, and a happy home cannot be had without a certain amount of rather monotonous work and responsibility. How can we change the nature of man so that he will honorably share that work and responsibility and thus make the homemaking enterprise a song instead of a burden? Most assuredly not by laws or revolutionary decrees. Perhaps we must cultivate or simulate a little of that highly prized helplessness ourselves. But fundamentally it is a problem of education, of early training -- we must bring up feminist sons.

...If the feminist program goes to pieces on the arrival of the first baby, it is false and useless. For ninety-nine out of every hundred women want children, and seventy-five out of every hundred want to take care of their own children, or at any rate so closely superintend their care as to make any other full-time occupation impossible for at least ten or fifteen years. Is there any such thing then as freedom of choice in occupation for women? And is not the family the inevitable economic unit and woman's individual economic independence, at least during that period, out of the question?

...But is there any way of insuring a woman's economic independence while child-raising is her chosen occupation? Or must she sink into that dependent state from which, as we all know, it is so hard to rise again? That brings us to the fourth feature of our program -- motherhood endowment. It seems that the only way we can keep mothers free, at least in a capitalist society, is by the establishment of a principle that the occupation of raising children is peculiarly and directly a service to society, and that the mother upon whom the necessity and privilege of performing this service naturally falls is entitled to an adequate economic reward from the political government. It is idle to talk of real economic independence for women unless this principle is accepted. But with a generous endowment of motherhood provided by legislation, with all laws against voluntary motherhood and education in its methods repealed*, with the feminist ideal of education accepted in home and school, and with all special barriers removed in every field of human activity, there is no reason why woman should not become almost a human thing.
~ Crystal Eastman, shown above, writing in 1920, in The Liberator, (read the complete text of "Now We Can Begin" here).

The second wave of feminism made some amazing progress in the 60's and the 70's, but it is also more than a little shocking to realize how clearly some of feminism's basic challenges were articulated long before that, and how little real progress has been made in these areas.

*when she speaks of "voluntary motherhood and education in its method", Eastman is referring to birth control - involuntary motherhood being what happens without access or educated use of contraception. Considering that I recently read that about a quarter of all pregnancies are unplanned, we haven't come such a long way here, either.

Civil Discourse or Refreshing Honesty?

Clearly, a lot of the people who take issue with Linda Hirshman (see previous two posts) object to her tone and style as much as to the content of her arguments. As I was thinking about this (and the difference between blog commentary and letters to the editor, or face to face debate), I got around to reading the rest of the 18th Carnival of Feminists, particularly this interesting post: Thoughts on blogging, hostility and feminist dialogue, by Winter at Mind the Gap!

Although I'm sure a lot of the vitriolic commentary left on blogs (or online articles, like Salon or many online newspapers) is not particularly productive, I usually find it some of it entertaining, and I guess I'd rather have trolls than censorship. It is ironic that Linda Hirshman decries all the pejorative e-mails her public pieces have attracted at the same time that she celebrates her own caustic approach, mocking those that plaintively ask if we can't just support each other as mothers making choices. Or "choices", as Ampersand might put it.

Addressing the @#%!& Issues

And yes, I do realize that my last post on Hirshman doesn't actually address any of the important issues that her original article and her book (presumably) address. I wanted to look at her Washington Post article in and of itself, because I found it fascinating, in much the same way that I found Caitlin Flanagan's trainwreck interviews compelling. I'm hoping that the article actually holds as little relation to Get to Work as Flanagan's interviews did to To Hell with All That, especially since I see that I'm next on the (pretty small - 1 of 2) library request list.

Is this a new phenomenon, this thing where authors make petty
ad hominem attacks or other outrageous statements badmouthing large groups of people in an attempt to publicize their books? Probably not, since I'm sure everything under the sun has already been done in publishing, but the internet and blogs certainly add a new element to it. Perhaps some of the author invective I've seen is a response to the immediacy, the crudeness, and the anonymity that e-mail commentary and criticism allows, if not actively encourages. Hirshman certainly implies this in her Post article, where she mentions the good old days, when only a few hardy (and presumably well-educated) souls wrote letters to authors or newspaper editors, and "iron-fisted editors" kept the riff raff out of the discussion (and perhaps back in the kitchen, where they belong if they sell out to the patriarchy). But wait -- isn't that exactly what Linda is supposed to be protesting?

Katha Pollitt adds a pretty funny essay to the whole "no such thing as bad publicity" idea with yesterday's article on "Thank You for Hating My Book". It's a much more reasonable response than I've seen from the other authors - or should I say from their public relations advisors?

Hirshman and Feminism Again

Well, I still haven't read Linda Hirshman's Get to Work: A Manifesto for Women of the World, so I really can't blog about it. I'm on the library waiting list for it (and I didn't even request that they buy it, as I prefer to only do that for books I really think are useful to more people, such as Miriam Peskowitz's The Truth Behind the Mommy Wars), so I don't have to give Hirshman any of my money to read it.

The latest round of articles (both on the web and in the print media) on Hirshman is basically a reaction to her inflammatory, self-promoting article "Unleashing the Wrath of Stay-at-Home Moms" in last month's Washington Post. As you might expect (see my response to her American Prospect article here), she made some statements with which I vehemently disagreed. And although I learned my lesson about blogging about a book before reading it with To Hell with All That, this doesn't mean that I can't comment on Hirshman's Opinion piece. So let the fisking begin:

The mommyblogs vilified me as a single, childless, bitter loser; the feminists claimed women weren't quitting; and a chorus of other voices didn't care what I said -- criticizing women just wasn't allowed. A handful of political thinkers did concede that I had raised the biggest issue left for feminism -- justice in the family -- but it was definitely a minority report.

Talk about a gross exaggeration. Some commenters on some blogs certainly speculated that someone who used such vituperative language about mothers must not be one herself, but none of the other bloggers that I read (see the many listed in my previous blog post on Hirshman) said anything like that. Note Hirshman's use of "mommyblogs" here - she might as well say, "Now, now, little mommies, you just leave this heavy thinking to the philosopher here." Please also note that the article that she touts as evidence of how maligned she has been - Everybody Hates Linda - is actually a pretty thoughtful piece that "positively applauds" some of Hirshman's ideas - while not shirking from a dispassionate analysis of its flaws.

The aggressive domesticity is not coming only from a bunch of women who can't manage all the demands on their time. Time and again, when I could identify the sources of the most rabid criticism and Google them, male and female, they had fundamentalist religious stuff on their Web sites or in the involuntary biographies that Google makes possible.

Once again, a ridiculous exaggeration. Very few of the many blogs that I read had religious ties, let alone fundamentalist ones. On the contrary, most of the blog criticism that I read (and enjoyed) came from overtly liberal and very a-religious sites. Well, maybe Linda found some secret cache of rabid bloggers that neither Technorati nor Google Blog could uncover.

Much worse than the roofing-and-barfing and salvation crowds, though, were the relativists, who criticized me for trying to give feminism some context and boundaries.

Well, since Linda has effectively discounted anyone who has written about the mundane aspects of life, and anyone who admits to any religious affiliation (please note that the latter does not include me), now she goes after the relativists. Damn all you compromisers, anyway! Remember, only Linda is qualified to provide the (ridiculously exaggerated) context for feminism, and its new more stringent boundaries.

These so-called liberals and feminists, who were once in the forefront of making social change, declared that people could no longer suggest that women should change their lives. A generation ago, such liberals included Betty Friedan, who called staying at home "the problem that has no name," and Alix Kates Shulman, who suggested that women should take on the problem by refusing to do 70 percent of the housework.

Apparently, Linda hasn't read anything that Betty Friedan or Alix Kates Shulman wrote after the 1970's. I suggest that she read Friedan's The Second Stage or Shulman's Drinking the Rain to see how more thoughtful second wave feminists matured. Wait, though - I have to warn you, Shulman talks about her roof and domestic pleasures at great length. Mind you, I am not a supporter of a domestic glass ceiling, I just don't think that Hirshman's solutions are workable or even reasonable.

Well. There was no chance that I was going to shut up. I'm retired. If I'm not going to raise hard questions for women, who will?

Why, Linda? Why? Why on earth did you retire if working at a law firm or as a philosophy professor was for the greater good?

And Katha Pollitt, Joan Blades, and Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner are my latest choices for people raising hard questions for women. Or the (yeah, I know, those democratic unwashed masses from the internet again) feminist and "mommy" bloggers out there (see blog roll on right side of screen). Which reminds me, I forgot to link to the 18th Carnival of Feminists. Don't forget to check out Redneck Mother's post in there.

I guess working women are too busy at work to blog about their lives and are already on their way to their jobs when "Good Morning America" puts me on at 8 a.m. Maybe a little scared? They're doing what beleaguered, overworked people do. They're publishing a manifesto.

Gee, a lot of the women I know with jobs outside the house have a lot more time to blog than those at home. Maybe the reason that they aren't showering Linda with praise is because they don't like her argument? Maybe they resent not having more choices and flexibility?

And Linda - we already have a manifesto. Check out The Motherhood Manifesto: What America's Moms Want - and What to Do About It and momsrising.org. I think there's a lot there that many corporate workers (not just parents) can appreciate. Yeah, it's got choice, but that doesn't mean it doesn't also have boundaries.

_________________________________________

Some more responses: Taking the Political Personally, from Crooked Timber - note many fascinating responses to his question of "why it is that this is such an emotive topic?"

The Personal Is (Still) Political, at Half Changed World - on how our personal choices (about feminism, in particular) can change the world

A Working Girl Can Win, in Slate, by Meghan O'Rourke - on some of the points that Hirshman makes that may be overlooked in the brouhaha

Understanding Betty Friedan: Why Linda Hirshman Doesn't, in Slate, by Emily Bazelon - on some of Hirshman's mistakes and the mis-charaterization of an important second wave feminist

Do We Trust Mothers? and Spreadin Love - and well, many other cogent posts by 11D. Just read all of her blog, it's worth it.

One of my favorite articles is Mommy Wars, Round 587, by Katha Pollitt in The Nation - it compares Hirshman and Caitlin Flanagan, who are so similar in their obnoxious self-promotion and self-righteousness. I think I'll be buying Pollitt's new book, Virginity or Death!

Katha Pollitt on Flanagan and Hirshman, on Alas (A Blog) - wonderful comments, including some from Pollitt.

and Echidne of the Snakes - again, check out the comments. Certainly not from a bunch of religious wingnuts.

and edited on 7/14 to add: Hirshman and the Value of Working, Round Two, by Leslie Morgan Steiner - many comments, but I didn't see anything really new jump out.

Swamp Milkweed

One of the more successful perennials in our yard. They attract a lot of insects, including this tiny praying mantis. Insects provide a lot of entertainment for my kids.

My Hideous (But Virtuous) Cache of Compost

Perhaps prompted by my recent reading of Caitlin Flanagan's critique of compost ("compost heaps in the backyard: moldering heaps of garbage, rich with worms and loamy rot...hideous caches of broken eggshells and wet coffee grounds squirreled away on kitchen counters" p. 143, To Hell with All That), I've been thinking about our compost. The black container out behind the fence is at the height of decomposition right now. It is full of rotting banana peels, watermelon mush, fuzzy green strawberries, and a couple of buckets of grass and dirt from our painstakingly edged sidewalks. It is seething with fruit flies, earwigs, pillbugs, and many other invertebrates, which I always hope don't erupt out of the top at my face when I pull the lid off to dump more wet coffee grounds and broken eggshells.

I think our compost's main benefit is how it allows my husband and I to feel a little less guilty about wasting food. When I put strawberry stems and green onion leaves and potato peels into my hideous kitchen counter cache (actually a large rubbermaid container), I get a slight "I'm so frugal" organic gardening buzz. When my husband sliced open a honeydew melon last weekend - one that we'd let sit on the counter for too many hot days - and we found it was too slimy to eat, my first thought was that at least it would contribute to next year's tomatoes and zinnias. At $3.29 (unlike Caitlin, I'm acutely aware of what most of the things on my counter and in my refrigerator cost), a honeydew melon makes pricey compost material, but at least I'm not adding to the putrescibles* that my garbage collectors have to haul.

Michael Pollan has a wonderful chapter entitled "Compost and Its Moral Imperatives" in Second Nature: A Gardener's Education, which is one of the most enjoyable gardening books I've ever read (and I've read a lot of them, I should blog about them sometime). Pollan really nails it when he talks about "the successful compost pile" as a sign of "horticultural grace", inferring virtue on its thrifty, ecologically conscious practitioners. But he doesn't also note how the composter redeems you a bit when your vegetable cooking plans exceed reality and you have to clean out the crisper drawer.

Don't get me wrong - I do appreciate the black loamy humus (partially composed of rotten hummus! ha) that we spread on our garden areas, though it is no longer true, as Eleanor Perényi said a few decades ago, that "You can't buy compost." But real (virtuous American) gardeners certainly don't buy compost.

Walt Whitman even wrote an ode to compost over 150 years ago. It's not too often you see naked body licking paired with "blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain" and "distemper'd corpses":

Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat?
I do not see any of it upon you to-day, or perhaps I am deceiv'd...

Behold this compost! behold it well!

The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead.
What chemistry!

That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which
is so amorous after me,
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its
tongues...

It distills such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor,
It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops,
It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings
from them at last.

- Walt Whitman, This Compost (read the whole poem here).

*see my review of Garbage Land (or better yet, read Elizabeth Royte's book yourself) for more on putrescibles and composting

To Hell with All That: Book Review

Alternate blog post title: Seduced by Caitlin Flanagan

To Hell with All That: Loving and Loathing Our Inner Housewife, by Caitlin Flanagan, has already been reviewed so many times - and the author has given so many interviews, some of them (like the Colbert Report) so outrageous - that I hardly thought it was necessary to read the actual book.

That'll teach me to judge a book by its press:
To Hell with All That was not at all what I expected.

(Next thing you know I'll read Linda R. Hirshman's Get to Work: A Manifesto for Women of the World and learn that Linda really loves scrubbing toilets and changing diapers).

I expected an anti-feminist diatribe against working mothers. Perhaps a more eloquent version of Kate O'Beirne's Women Who Make the World Worse: And How Their Radical Feminist Assault Is Ruining Our Schools, Families, Military, and Sports, which I was embarrassed to be seen checking out of the library, and returned in disgust after reading a few ridiculous chapters.

What I found was a collection of essays - some autobiographical, some on current social mores (Martha Stewart and modern weddings) that I genuinely enjoyed. It is true that a few sentences made me choke on my coffee, provoking the same WTF? response that I had when I saw the infamous Colbert Report clip, but there were many passages where I nodded my head in agreement or wrote "true" in the margins. As I write this, I realize that I'm saying much of what Jen Lawrence said in her review in LiteraryMama - but that's pretty much how it happened, and I am going to go on and fisk a few things I haven't seen in the other reviews.

from the Preface: Writing honestly about these issues in the national press has been difficult because it required challenging certain articles of faith that comprise what the current American feminist agenda requires us to believe about womanhood. (p. xviii)

I've considered myself a feminist for at least the last 25 years, so I'm not sure how I completely missed the required "articles of faith". I thought that it was fairly impossible to get a group of feminists to agree on much, let alone an American agenda that includes all of the points that Flanagan lists. Her points are a caricature of some radical feminist ideas. All that's missing is a reference to bra burning. Linda R. Hirshman, now, probably agrees with many of the points, but she's not exactly a mainstream feminist.

The first article of faith: Girls do not have a natural interest in homemaking. (p. xviii)

Since I've never had much of an interest in homemaking, my first reaction was "Am I not a woman?" And what does she mean by "natural"? That there's a biological basis for females doing housework? Then why is it so easily overcome by messy housewives? Women wouldn't ever hire housekeepers like Caitlin does if it was in our genes, they'd have to do themselves. Meh, I'm just suspicious of how many cultural things are attributed to nature. But onward to the rest of the book.

from The Wifely Duty (which I think could also be called Sex Is an Obligation Once You're Married): The reason abortion rights hold such a sanctified position in American political life is that they are a critical component of the yuppie program for maximum personal sexual pleasure. (p. 22)

This was one of those sentences that made me choke. Maybe this would be true if contraceptives were not available, but today? Nah, can't see it. And personally, I don't see the overwhelming lack of sex within marriage that Caitlin does. Maybe it has something to do with our different circles of friends. She does note that "Nowadays American parents of a certain social class seem squeaky-clean, high-achieving, flush with cash, relatively exhausted, obsessed with their children, and somehow - how to pinpoint this? - undersexed." (p. 33). It certainly seems like Caitlin Flanagan is in the same neurotic social circles that Judith Warner is. I guess that explains a lot.

I did enjoy her discussion of Marabel Morgan's The Total Woman, which I read myself right after reading Darla Shine's Happy Housewives, and I was happy to hear that Caitlin was "not entirely incapable of good old-fashioned feminist rage" about "The notion that even educated middle-class American women had to put out in order to get a damn refrigerator" (p. 29).

from Housewife Confidential: The notion of a domestic life that purrs along, with routines and order and carefully delineated standards, is endlessly appealing to me. It is also quite foreign, because I am not a housewife. I am an "at-home mother," and the difference between the two is vast. (p. 38)

Now I was very interested to see this, because a while back I pondered the difference between the two here in my blog. Apparently, in Caitlin's world, the major difference is economic: if you can afford to hire housekeeping help (or you just don't care about clean floors?), you get to be an "at-home mother" without the drudgery of housework.

I was fascinated by her paean to the Midwest (having lived in this part of the country for most of my life), but I have to say that her fantasy of a place where "most of life's difficulties could be handled with a combination of good humor and endurance" (p. 55) is just as much a myth as her characterization of growing up in the 60's:

...a bygone age, as remote and unrecoverable as Camelot: a world of good meals turned out in orderly fashion, of fevers cooled without a single frantic call to the pediatrician, of clothes mended and repaired and pressed back into useful service rather than discarded to the rag heap as soon as a button pops or a sleeve unravels. (p. 167-8).

Well, Camelot was pretty much a complete fantasy, wasn't it? But how hard is it really to learn to sew a button on, Caitlin? My husband does it occasionally, as do I. Maybe our skill is linked to our hardy Midwestern upbringing in the 60's, but I do think that someone whom is obviously intelligent and watches so much Martha Stewart could switch off the TV and take ten minutes figure this button thing out.

from A Necessary Person: Children love the person who provides daily physical care to them in a singular and primal way - a way obviously designed by Nature herself to cleave child to mother and vice versa. (p. 65)

I've already commented on her use of natural with a small "n". Forgive me if I'm not impressed by Nature with a large "N" either. I think reading Sarah Blaffer Hrdy's Mother Nature: Maternal Instincts and How They Shape the Human Species provides a more realistic idea of the blood and gore and ambition and love and other emotions that characterize all mothers, from Susan Smith to Phyllis Schlafly.

from Drudges and Celebrities: The New Housekeeping: I remember, during that time, knowing many girls whose mothers had discarded many things, giving up decent housekeeping, turfing out husbands, taking up weird pastimes....They were starting compost heaps in the backyard: moldering heaps of garbage, rich with worms and loamy rot....They would have hideous caches of broken eggshells and wet coffee grounds squirreled away on kitchen counters, waiting to be delivered to the compost heaps. (p. 143)

Oooh, she's got me there. Too bad Caitlin wasn't here two summers ago to see our experiment with vermiculture in the basement. However, despite my hideous cache on the kitchen counter (which I'll have to ask my friends if they've noticed, now), I do manage to comb my daughter's hair, and I don't wear batik. I absolutely hate twinsets, though, which Caitlin seems to favor. I do rather like tie-dye, but I still manage to shave my legs. Sometimes. Oh, and I haven't turfed out my husband, whom I've lived with for 23 years now.

from Clutter Warriors: And so began one of the most important relationships in my life. My organizer, let us call her Sarah...(p. 163)

Give me a break. Your household organizer is one of the most important people in your life? Gah.

Something that I found endlessly interesting throughout this book is that Caitlin is (give a take a few months) the same age that I am - and my mother also returned to work full-time when I was 13 (Caitlin was 12 when her mother got a job after being home with her previously).

"Being home alone is stressful for a child," psychologist David Elkind has written and he's dead right. Just walking through the front door each afternoon to be met by the quiet gloom of the empty living room was depressing.... Afternoons alone in the house were often frightening. It did not help that I am a hysteric by nature.

Now maybe it was the result of living in a bucolic small town in Illinois, but I didn't find being home alone after school particularly stressful at that point. In fact, I reveled in the freedom to do whatever I wanted. The only time I was ever scared was while reading The Amityville Horror (and I'm fairly certain I would have been scared even if my parents had both been home while I was reading that).

from To Hell with All That: And when I couldn't walk from the car to the doctor's office, he carried me. And if that's a traditional marriage, I'll take it. (p. 195)

This is a famous line that has already drawn scores of comments. My only comment: that's not traditional marriage, that's commitment, and the two are not necessarily the same.

So these are the kind of things that bugged me in To Hell with All That. I haven't really praised the parts that I liked much, although there were many. Several passages had me howling with laughter, and I chuckled at quite a few more. Her passages about cleaning out her parents' house were beautiful. They made me think about my parents' house (which I haven't had to clear yet, thank goodness), and my great-grandmother's kitchen tools, which I use fairly often, thinking of her. And how can I loathe a woman who uses the word elegiac so elegantly, no matter how misguided she is sometimes?

As I described the book to my husband (describing what little I knew about the author's personal life), however, I realized something interesting. Why didn't Caitlin change her name when she got married if she's such an ardent anti-feminist?

Read the Latest Sex-Filled Carnival of Feminists..

...over at Bitch Lab. Because I don't have time to blog this week, even though I have loads of things I wish I could talk about. Tune in next week for some more on Linda Hirshman and Caitlin Flanagan.

June 1938, June 2006

It's kind of cool that calendars from 1938 work this year, too. Here's June from the Posters from the WPA collection at the Library of Congress.

I liked this poster, too, since I just finished that book on the "Social History of the Bathroom" a while back:

Clematis

It's been a good year for our clematis.

Motherhood Discrimination or Special Privileges for Breeders?

For every dollar a man makes, most women make about 90 cents...but women who are also mothers working outside their homes average 73 cents. Single mothers who are employed only make about 55-66 cents for every man's dollar. Stay-at-home mothers, of course, earn nothing, and get no social security credit (and little or no respect?) independent of their husbands. If they had a career before having a baby (or two) and "opting out", they are likely to lose ground in it, perhaps irredeemably.

You can probably guess how I feel about these issues. Read Motherhood Discrimination on AlterNet, by Joan Blades and Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner (the authors of The Motherhood Manifesto) if you're interested. The "Special Privileges for Breeders" phrase came from the mostly inane comments posted on the AlterNet article.

Although I disagreed with several of the points in Mary Riddell's Let's Celebrate. There's Never Been a Better Time for Mothers article (which also provides an interesting British perspective on some of the same issues), I think she's right on the money when she notes that the value of children has been downgraded in modern society. I think she's right when she says that children "recalibrate adults' soured outlook and remake their world", too.

The Bowl Is Already Broken: Book Review

I've been neglecting my blog lately. My part-time writing job takes some of my creative energy, though I do love the work, and have gotten to read fascinating things* in the course of it. The recent pattern of rain-heat-sun-and more rain in southeastern Michigan is doing its best to turn our yard into a weedy meadow, which we fight twice a week with our beautifully quiet and ecologically sound but not terribly efficient reel mower. This combined with energetic children is enough to cause us to spend what free time we do have in a stupor on the couch or on the back deck, swatting at mosquitoes, watching the wind blow twigs off the dead elm tree and making the green-turning yellow wheat field behind our house ripple.

However. An abrupt cancellation of one writing project on railroad expansion in Philadelphia in 1839, followed by a short bout with the stomach flu, gave me the opportunity to lie in bed and read for a day and a half. Luckily I had a wonderfully engrossing novel to distract myself from nausea and stomach cramps: The Bowl is Already Broken, by Mary Kay Zuravleff.

I had already read a couple of great reviews praising it (and describing the plot in some detail) by two bloggers whose work I admire, flea (note that her copy has a more elegant cover design - but since my library copy had the cover shown here, I felt I had to use it), and the mama from mamarant.

At the beginning, I was a bit suspicious of the novel and its characters, probably because I spent ten years on and off working in a museum, and another nearly ten years as a mother - and these are the two inextricably bound themes that wind through Zuravleff's book. The more I read, though, the more I enjoyed the characters' complexities, their devotion to their work, and Zuravleff's descriptions of the Asian art and poetry at the center of the story. My museum experiences were different from those at Zuravleff's "Institution" in many ways -- for one thing, most archaeological artifacts are not nearly as awe-inspiring as porcelain bowls and illuminated manuscripts. Much of the rest of it, though -- the group lunches (unfortunately not the gourmet meals described at her museum!), the politics, the dance between administration and research, the incredible range of research and experience, and the gossip and the sexual drama - oh, she got that, she really got it down, and so very well.

And I have to say that Zuravleff really captures the essence of family life -- the worries, the kids' quirks, the unending domestic work, the day to day chaos -- very well also. In fact, her entertaining descriptions remind me of Anne Lamott, who captures motherhood in a way few other writers do...except there's not much Jesus in The Bowl Is Already Broken. But there's plenty of Rumi (whom I keep running up against in books, I think most recently in The Bookseller of Kabul and The Kite Runner). One featured poem, written in Persian by the Afghan poet and mystic more than seven hundred years ago:

Little by little, wean yourself.
This is the gist of what I have to say.
From an embryo, whose nourishment comes in the blood,
move to an infant drinking milk,
to a searcher after wisdom,
to a hunter of more invisible game.

Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo.
You might say, "The world outside is vast and intricate.
There are wheatfields and mountain passes,
and orchards in bloom.

At night there are millions of galaxies, and in sunlight
the beauty of friends dancing at a wedding."

You ask the embryo why he, or she, stays cooped up
in the dark with eyes closed.

Listen to the answer.

There is no "other world."
I only know what I've experienced.
You must be hallucinating.

So - go and read this book. It's the perfect summer read, engrossing yet light, but not so fluffy that you feel unfulfilled afterwards. My only quibble with it? The archaeological project that Zuravleff describes is a little sketchy...it doesn't really give you a good idea of how that kind of fieldwork feels or actually works, which is in marked contrast to the other parts of the book. But this is basically criticizing the background scenery from a couple passages. The descriptions of the other parts of the Middle Eastern landscape are wonderful, as are those of the different parts of the Washington DC setting. Just go and read it and enjoy it, really.

*Recent topics include Ida B. Wells and lynching, Frederick Douglass and Jim Crow railroad cars in 1840's Massachusetts (and you thought Jim Crow was just in the South after Reconstruction!), and the feminist protest at the 1968 Miss America pageant (no bras were ever burned, contrary to popular belief).

The Keywords That Brought You Here...

...never fail to fascinate me. Along with the ever popular (and inexplicable) "tomato watch", some of my favorites include:

-ass ponder
-the difference between Republican housewives and the cult of domesticity
-what to do when your husband is being a jerk (I feel sorry for someone looking for advice from google on this)
-parsley round the pig
-mound of tush
-detroit ghetto hairstyles
-fat blogger housewives

Carnival of Feminists XV

...is up at Self Portrait As. The posts on motherhood and reproductive rights were especially interesting to me this time - and a special nod to Cliopatria's "The War Against Mother's Day" post, as I love almost anything that cites The Way We Never Were: American Families and the Nostalgia Trap by Stephanie Coontz. For instance, imagine how different Caitlin Flanagan's (and Darla Shine's) ode to 1950's homemaking would be if they had read this book. And the posts on the Washington Post's story about the CDC and infant mortality and now consider yourself "Pre-Pregnant" are quite illuminating.

Huck's Raft: Book Review

Huck's Raft: A History of American Childhood, by Steven Mintz was a book that took me a long time to read. Not because I didn't like it, or because it wasn't well written (I loved it, I learned a lot, and think it was very well-written), but because there was so much information in it. It was dense. Packed with things I thought were very interesting, and I kept turning back to the footnotes and marvelling and then thinking I should follow up on this other thing...it took me almost a week to read a chapter at that rate. And there were seventeen chapters, covering everything from the Puritans in "Children of the Covenant" to 2001 and "The Unfinished Century of the Child".

Anyway, I'm finding Huck's Raft a bit hard to review, too, because I've already read a wonderful review of it here, written by Judith Stadtman Tucker. She said everything I would have said if I sat down and thought logically about the book and its relevance to our society and parenting today. Since Tucker already did that, though, that leaves me free to go and pick my favorite bits and pieces and highlight them. These are the passages that stuck in my mind, not necessarily the most important or exciting parts, mind you.

The chapter entitled "Growing Up in Bondage" on children in slavery in the American south was just heartbreaking to read....the infant mortality, malnutrition, broken families, and sexual abuse was overwhelming, and much worse than I think most Americans can imagine. Reading the personal stories (a device that Mintz uses in all of the chapters, jumping from the individual to the general) is amazing and awful.

"The Revolt of Modern Youth", on the early part of the 20th century, seems so very modern:

...Cornelia A.P. Comer, a Harvard professor's wife, published "A Letter to the Rising Generation" in the Atlantic Monthly. The younger generation, she grumbled, couldn't spell, and its English was "slipshod." Today's youth were selfish, discourteous, lazy, and self-indulgent. Lacking respect for their elders or for common decency, the young were hedonistic, "shallow, amusement-seeking creatures,"....The boys were feeble, flippant, and "soft" intellectually, spiritually, and physically. Even worse were the girls, who were brash, loud, and promiscuous with young men.

Guess what year that was written?

That was written in 1911. Before most of our parents were born. Those selfish, shallow, promiscuous, loud rebels were our great-grandparents.

Since I've written about Bronislaw Malinowski here, and took "imponderabilia" from him, I thought it was very entertaining when I read the following story, set in the 1920's:

Middle-class family life grew more democratic, affectionate, and child-centered, and the school and the peer group became more signficant in young people's lives. Bronislaw Malinowski told a story that underscored the shift. He and his five-year-old daughter argued, but despite his best efforts, the Polish-born anthropologist was unable to sway her opinion. The girl brought the argument "to an abrupt conclusion by announcing: 'Daddy, what an ass you are.'" Malinowski "tried to imagine what would have happened had I thus addressed my father some forty years ago. I shuddered and sighed."

Huck's Raft is worth reading even if you just read a few chapters (pick one - "Sons and Daughters of Liberty" on the American Revolution? "New to the Promised Land", on the children of immigrants? "In Pursuit of the Perfect Childhood", on the 1950's?) Whichever one you pick, whatever period of history you're interested in, you'll find some fascinating stuff in that chapter. And "Parental Panics and the Reshaping of Childhood" on the 80's and 90's - ah, I just wish this chapter was tacked onto the back of every newspaper or magazine article on parenting, as well as every parenting book out there, from Dr. Sears to the Pearls.

Carnival of Feminists, No. 14

Now playing at Women's Autonomy and Sexual Sovereignty Movements. Many very interesting posts from Africa, China, the Other London, and Dorking. There's a lot on language, bitches and bags, blogs, godbags, etc., the non-existant mommy wars (people are just discovering this? Isn't Miriam Peskowitz's book one of the top google results for mommy wars?), and MILFs. And don't miss the creepy piece on Purity Balls for preteen girls.

On My Nightstand and Desk...

...there are books. Quite a few books, actually, since I was at book sales at two different libraries yesterday. Here's what I'm currently reading, just finished, or about to read, though, again stealing the idea for this post from Mental multivitamin: I'm going to take each book, go to page thirty, and write down the forth sentence, and then write something about why I have this book.

And what are you reading?


Huck's Raft: A History of American Childhood, by Steven Mintz

Nevertheless, the Great Awakening did reinforce a trend toward greater youthful autonomy.

Yes, I know that this book was on the list last time I did this about six weeks ago. I've checked it out of two different libraries, then finally bought my own copy. It's a wonderful book, though, one I'm happy to own, and I'm finally at the last chapter. I'm going to write a review of it here as soon as I have the time.

________________

An Irreverent and Almost Complete Social History of the Bathroom, by Frank Muir

It is no wonder that, apart from health cranks, hardly anybody at that time 'frequented the gelid cistern'.

I got this for a quarter at one of the book sales yesterday. Interestingly enough, I was googling to try and discover when "shower-baths" become common in American bathrooms just the other day. I didn't find anything online, though there were a bunch of book and journal references that I could search out if I need it. 1920's, I'm guessing? The index in Muir's book points to the origins of cold showers, which was earlier than I thought. I'll bet showers weren't very popular until hot water heaters were common.

________________

Nightbirds on Nantucket, by Joan Aiken

"Thee may have the use of my stateroom."

I loved Joan Aiken's books as a child, starting with The Wolves of Willoughby Chase. I think my son is almost old enough for them, and this was also a bargain for a quarter. I'm looking forward to re-reading the whole series.

________________

The Motherhood Manifesto: What America's Moms Want - and What to Do About It, by Joan Blades and Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner

"She's kind of moody, but she's really good with kids and I might have to use her."

I've been looking forward to reading this ever since I read about it on MomsRising.Org. It doesn't have an index, though, which is a pet peeve of mine.

________________

W.E.B. Du Bois - Biography of a Race, 1868-1919, by David Levering Lewis

"We were companions," said he, pure and simple.

This book is for an article for my part-time writing gig. It's fascinating, though, and outrageous that I knew so little about Du Bois and his influence on American politics & civil rights. It doesn't say much for my high school history teachers or textbooks, that I knew so little about Booker T. Washington, W.E.B Du Bois, William White, and Monroe Trotter.

________________

The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini

Hassan, of course, was oblivious to this.

My book club is reading this, and half the people I know (including my mother) have already read it and loved it. I'm liking it a lot so far, though I'm worried something tragic is going to happen soon.

Some Recommended Reading for Mothers

...also highly recommended for Dads, especially if they do much care-giving:

Mothers & More 2006 "Mothers at Work" Reading List

Sadly, I have not read any of these books, although I have read quite a few on their general recommended reading list on Motherhood and Society. Also, I just bought a copy of The Motherhood Manifesto: What America's Moms Want and What to Do about It, by Joan Blades and Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner, and The F Word: Feminism in Jeopardy, by Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner. And as soon as I finish Huck's Raft (I'm up to the 60's finally), I'll get right on them.

Meanwhile, check out MUBAR's The Feminine Mistake, a very perceptive review of Darla Shine's Happy Housewives (which I ranted about here).

MomsRising.org

Since I can't figure out how to make this banner a clickable link, here's the link: MomsRising.org

And if you've ever used a breast pump, be sure and check out the "Office Lunch" story by Mary Ann Romans on this page of the 'hood (of motherhood).

Go Read at "I See Invisible People"...

...because the 13th Carnival of the Feminists is fascinating. My favorite link is Peyton Place in the Pleistocene (and why didn't I ever think of doing that kind of post?), but there's so much more. Enjoy.

Answering Some Google Searches

Tomato watches? Who are you people, searching for tomato watches so often? I can't figure it out.

To whomever was looking for the "oldest domesticate": it's the dog. Unless you're talking about plants. Then it's the bottle gourd in the New World (brought over the Bering Straits, along with dogs), then squash, and I think it is lentils or some other legume in the Old World. Or maybe wheat. I suggest you google "paleoethnobotany" and "oldest plant domestication".


The appropiate age to read "Of Mice and Men" is around 16.

There, is that what you wanted?

You Say For-SY-thia, I Say For-SITH-ia

We're having a week or two of real spring, like one of those southern states where spring is a distinct season, and there's daffodils and early tulips and hyacinths and forsythia. Our forsythia (shown above) is one tough shrub. It was grown from a cutting from my in-law's old house, survived six years and a fire and subsequent construction at our Ann Arbor townhouse. When we moved to Saline four years ago, my husband dug it up (severing many of the roots), pulled it out of the half-frozen ground with our car, and then we left it sitting frozen by our front porch for several months. We had to unpack some of the stuff we needed and then get used to having a new baby. Still, William Forsyth's Chinese shrub flourished when we got around to sticking it in the ground the following spring.

One more tidbit that I remember from Warren Wagner's wonderful "systematics of botany" at class at the University of Michigan: forsythia is in the Oleaceae family, and thus closely related to olives. It doesn't seem particularly oleaginous as far as shrubs go.

Mothers at Work: Mothers & More 2006

I started blogging last year for Mothers & More's annual media campaign - so I'm excited to see the new bloggers online for this year's campaign.

They've also chosen some of the organization's themes as general blogging topics, which should prove interesting:

* All the work mothers do - whether paid or unpaid - has social and economic value.
* Mothers have the right to fulfill their caregiving responsibilities without incurring social and economic penalties.
* All women deserve recognition and support for their right to choose if and how to combine parenting and paid employment.

You wouldn't think that these simple ideas could be controversial. But both sides of the political spectrum (in the US, and to some extent, worldwide) have issues with mothers and their roles in different cultures or parts of our society. Just ask Linda Hirshman or Caitlin Flanagan.

Lists of 100 Books

I've been bookmarking those "100 Greatest Books" or "100 Best Reads of the Century" lists for a while now, as I mentioned at my book club last night. Wow, that makes me sound really middle-aged and boring, doesn't it? My book club. But really, what could be better than a night out discussing books with some friends? OK, I can think of a few better things to do, but they all involve babysitters and elaborate plans and some money (at least for the babysitter). Participation in my book club just takes a library card and some reading (which I already do), and the ability to talk about a different book each month. Not a problem here. Especially when wine and chocolate and strawberries and blueberries are provided (thanks, Kim).

The New York Times prints a 100 Notable Books of the Year every December. Last year's picks weren't so exciting for me, although I did like some of the non-fiction a lot and a few of the fiction selections are still on my "to read" list.

The BBC did a general "best-loved novel" list in 2003. Five of their top ten are five of my favorites, and since I've read so many of the UK's "best loved" (48) I felt all smug...until I realized that most of these were children's books.

Book of the Day is working her way through an interesting bunch of lists: Great Books Lists. I love her blog selection of trashy books interspersed with literary stuff. It mirrors my own reading, though I don't blog about most of the trash. I'm pretty sure this is also where I found CounterPunch's Top 100 (and a few more) Non-Fiction Works of the 20th Century.

Time magazine did a story on the 100 Best English-language Novels from 1923-2005. It's a weird list...one that I guess reflects the idiosyncracies of the two editors that got to pick the books. Some of the books I agree are absolute classics, others...not so much. Then there's Random House's 100 Best Novels, both the board's list and their reader's list. Battlefield Earth? Give me a break.

If you're a snob about your reading, you can always check out The 100 Most Meaningful Books of All Time, selected by a hundred authors from 54 different countries.

Finally - I haven't forgotten about kids' books. Here the NEA's two lists: Teachers' Top 100 Books and Kids' Top 100 Books. And finally, the New York Public has the wonderful 100 Picture Books Everyone Should Know - which is especially nice because it includes pictures of the covers.

I'm sure I could go on and on...I could probably google up 100 Lists of Lists, but I think I'll stop here.

Perfection Salad: Book Review

Perfection Salad: Women and Cooking at the Turn of the Century, by Laura Shapiro

This was a very entertaining book, although you would never guess it, given such a domestic subject and a really ho-hum subtitle. I read a recommendation on chowhound.com, though, so I requested it from our library. Since it was published twenty years ago, there wasn't a request list.*

Perfection Salad is well-written, funny, and very well-researched. Although the "current trends" summarized in the last chapter are now sadly out of date (but maybe they've been updated in the new edition, which I haven't seen), the rest of the book is still very relevant and occasionally very funny. It's a history of women's roles, feminity, the science of cooking, attitudes about food, the evolution of the food industry and American cuisine, and home economics.

A few images that stuck in my head: early in the 20th century, it was thought that women and children needed lighter (less masculine) food than men. One popular magazine recommended that children be given a delicious frosting sandwich for lunch.

On the other hand, it was a cause for great concern if boys only wanted more feminine desserts: from "How to Eat, Drink, and Sleep as a Christian Should":

Both parents know that Tom should be helped up to a sturdy boyhood; not having all his girlish fancies indulged. How can they make him love the rare, juicy tender roast beef, and the hot baked potato that he now turns from, holding in his hunger until the pudding gets on the table?�

It was commonly assumed that most of the men in prisons, workhouses, and mental hospitals in the early 1900's were there because they didn't have good women providing them with wholesome food at home. If they had the right foods, they wouldn't turn to drink! Pies, old-fashioned pies, they were a gateway drug. I had no idea. And apparently this whole "women cooking good food keeps a family wholesome" idea is coming back into serious vogue, according to Caitlin Flanagan, anyway. No, I'm not going to link to Flanagan's book, but here's that now famous interview in Elle.

And those immigrants with their foreign foods! What was wrong them, eating pasta and garlic and whatnot, when they could be eating molded jello salads, baked beans garnished with toasted marshmallows stuffed with raisins, and meats cleanly covered in a smooth white sauce?



*Amazon.com has a new edition, with an introduction by Michael Stern, published in 2001. And my apologies to any Sybermoms who have already read this review a while back. I thought the book deserved a wider audience, and I didn't feel particularly creative tonight.

Finally, Some Reasonable Discussion...

...as an addition to Miriam Peskowitz's book on "the mommy wars".

Parent Bloggers Face Off, with Leslie Morgan Steiner and Brian Reid was much better than I anticipated. There was no finger-wagging judgmentalism, but thought-provoking, reasonable discussion. And Parent Blogger sounds so much more balanced than either Mom Blogger or Mommy Blogger. Enough of that argument.

And NOW is really getting on board with their Mothers Matter and Caregivers Count page and petition. Finally!

Sybermoms' Auction is Tonight!

Now is a good chance to get something cool -- a basket of cheese curds, an autographed book, some knitted goodies -- and all profits go directly to The Doug Flutie, Jr. Foundation for Austism.

You just have to register at www.Sybermoms.com, then bid on the auction item you want. The auction forums are open for browsing now (the 24-hr auction starts tonight at 7pm EST, live auction tomorrow).

Alien Superheroines, Strawfeminists and More...

...in the 12th Carnival of Feminists at Written World. The planet Zamaron provides an exciting launching point.

Weird Google Searching Again

I've named some of my posts weird things. A couple of titles were based on my daughter's mispronouncing or malappropriating words.

So I find it more than a little strange that someone out there is searching for "tomato watches" and "peanut butter and jelly fish". Do they want a watch shaped like a tomato? Do people really eat pb&j-fish somewhere?

And you don't have to stop. You can think about SCHLOPP. Schlopp. Schlopp. Beautiful schlopp with a cherry on top.*

*Courtesy Dr. Suess's Oh, The Thinks You Can Think!, which was just read here. Let's see what kind of people search for schlopp. Beeyoootiful schlopp.

The latest best post on Google perverts is at Suburban Turmoil, though. Love the advice.

The Driveway Diaries: Book Review

The Driveway Diaries: A Dirt Road Almanac, by Tim Brooke is a good spring read. If you like Michael Pollan's work (especially my favorite, his book on gardening - Second Nature) or Bill Bryson's books, there's a good chance you'll like this little volume of essays on how a professor from England buys a house out in the country in Vermont.

The book itself is interestingly shaped - more nearly square than most paperbacks (and not like the illustration here). It's the width of a trade paperback, but only as tall as a mass market paperback. This gives it a slight "picture book" or artsy feel - though there aren't any pictures, except for the graphic woodcut-like design on the cover.

Not every essay thrilled me, but most had me nodding my head, saying uh huh, that's so right, and comparing the differences in roads and driveways between Illinois (where I grew up) and Michigan and Vermont. I spent a bit of time thinking about the physical & environmental differences between rural, suburban, urban, and small town areas I've lived in, and thinking of "My Life in Driveways" (which would make an interesting blog meme: describe each driveway or lack thereof in your life), which was one of the essays that I most enjoyed.

His descriptions of different kinds of ice, shovelling, and problems with winter driveways made me appreciate the crocuses, daffodils and robins now (finally) here. And Brooke has a wonderfully anthropomorphic essay on the differences between tulips, daffodils, and irises that was one of the best parts of the book.

Now that I come to think of it, a driveway is the opposite of a porch. The porch was designed as a halfway habitation: on the porch, the homeowner was sheltered and at home, but was also visible and available to passers-by, able to wave, call out, chat. The drieway assumes that you don't want to talk to passers-by, and that there aren't any anyway, as they're all in their cars. It means that instead of the intervening distance between private and public being small and joined by words, it is large, and one passes through it enclosed in a car. -- Tim Brooke, in The Driveway Diaries: A Dirt Road Almanac, p. 79.

Children's Literature Carnival!

I don't have much time to blog, having just started a part-time job doing research and writing. It's fulfilling some of my creative needs, and it pays! Woo hoo! Now I have an excuse for ignoring housework.

I did want to link to a blog carnival I just discovered, though: The Third Carnival of Children's Literature. Let the wild rumpus start!