A modern classic?

 I have a very hard time finding new books, especially by modern authors.  Usually the stories are utterly predictable, the characters forgettable, the dialogue unremarkable, the humor vapid, the writing wan, and the moral of the tale nonexistent.  Or worse, it's a literary depiction of things best left behind closed doors solely betwixt those involved, who knew Jane Austen's heirs would stray so far from the fold, ugh!  But as I was browsing through the never ending Pinterest feed, I came across a '15 hilarious books for your book club' post, not being a huge fan of book sites, for some reason I gave it a chance.  I looked each one up in our virtual library app to see what they had.  I had already seen the movie for the first book, and it wasn't bad.  Bridget Jones made the list and I detest the movie, so I was starting to get antsy but I persisted and found a couple likely and available prospects.  I checked out 'Eleanor Oliphant is Fine' and began to read.  It is more than a little eerie when you are reading about a fictional person's life and all you can think is that it's your own!

That's one reason I really like the Blue Castle by LM. Montgomery, as I readily identify with its stifled little mouse of a heroine.  Now there's Eleanor with her Tolkien-esque last name and the socially prescribed adjective.  I like a book that can handle delicate and terrible social issues with both charity, patience, understanding, and humor without wallowing in either despair or the grotesque while still taking a swing at various overlooked social and cultural ills/trends that we either take for granted or ignore entirely.  This book is heart wrenching but also gut-wrenchingly funny, with a very arch Austen sort of wit, not much really 'happens' but you can't put it down because it unfurls little by little, as a good book aught, until you are left hopeful and smiling with a tear in your eye.  The characters aren't really much to look at or read about, they aren't beautiful or handsome or rich or witty, they are just everyday people with everyday tragedies struggling through an indifferent and hostile world, save the golden threads of kindness found unexpectedly in the strangest souls and oddest places.  A glowing reminder that humanity has not completely lost its heart even if society has lost its head and in that we can still find hope.  But we need real human interaction and relationship to do it.

As a survivor of a twisted and cruel mother who portrays the perfect parent to the world, I can say the character of Eleanor was written so well that I wonder how the author came to know so much about so forbidden a topic in a world and culture that is quick to blame the child in such an instance.  My situation was hardly as horrific as Eleanor's but sadly it might be even more tragic, because no one knows what is going on, even the afflicted, few are those that escape from this dreadful sort of 'normal.'  We are fine, we are fed and clothed, and we are fine, but we aren't.  The despair, the self-hatred, the utter loneliness, the wish to both punish yourself for simply existing and the wish for the suffering to end makes self-harm and suicide very real dangers.  The author tackled these issues with a dexterous and master hand.  The overriding commentary about widespread loneliness in society and that there is something we can do about it is also a welcome voice in the wilderness.  Overall a well written and well handled modern novel, well worthy of the classic writers the author obviously enjoys.  Finally a modern book about what it means, at least in part, to be human!

A tale worth the telling, unwitting guest blogger episode 437

 Ever feel like you're living in a satire movie, a spoof of your own life?  Check out this enlightening little article!

Good enough for her!

 I just realized I have a problem.  I needed some decent muffin pans, but that was only a symptom.  Just for the heck of it I checked out nordic ware, I have a bundt and specialty bread pan (both acquired second hand for mere dollars) that I absolutely love and wondered if they had anything affordable.  It appears they are having a clearance sale on their Treat line of baking accessories and all their pans are a very decent price and you get free shipping if you spend $50.  Instead of a single muffin pan, I ended up with two (12 muffins each too!) plus a cookie sheet, a loaf pan, and two 9" cake pans for $50!  I actually bought some high quality bakeware and am really excited about it.  What's the problem?  I guess I'd call it 'good enough for her' syndrome.

I have been married 17 years, I am an avid baker, I am on a special diet that requires I bake all my own bread and everything else and since it is gluten free, it can be fussy and unappetizing, good quality pans make all the difference for certain recipes and I have literally been using bakeware like my great grandmother's cookie sheets, a couple cheap aluminum cake pans from the thrift store, a couple pyrex glass loaf pans that were a wedding gift, and a set of silicone muffin cups for years.  It worked, why spend extra money we don't have on something I don't absolutely need?  When for $50 I can basically outfit my entire kitchen!  Yes, buying a $59 bundt pan with little hearts all over it would be ridiculous but a $10 heavy duty cookie sheet I'll use twice a week for three decades?

I had the same problem when I was first diagnosed with severe food sensitivities.  I spent a year paralyzed with fear and despair, eating I'm not sure what and still feeling sick.  I never even thought to try gluten free baking or anything else, thinking it wasn't worth it, that I wasn't worth it, or maybe that I didn't deserve it.  It wasn't until my son came down with a wheat intolerance that I started playing with it for his sake and discovered just how much I missed baking and that it was most definitely worth my while to learn to take care of myself.  But even after that lesson, I still struggled on with a chronic though usually subclinical case of 'good enough for her.'

I caught it from my family of origin, where I was more an intruder or a burden than a child.  I had my corner to sleep in (literally a single bed lower bunk in a room with my sister though neither of us was allowed any personal space beyond our bed, the rest of the room was Hers (my mother)), I had food to eat and clothes to wear and that was all I needed so I should just shut up, be quiet, and don't get in the way or embarrass people by existing, and if I even thought about complaining about anything, she'd happily threaten to make me live in the street, which did wonders for my sense of security in the family!  Every Christmas and Birthday were the same, everyone bought me collectible dolls that she enjoyed and immediately took possession of, and if I questioned it, I was called selfish and ungrateful.  Why couldn't I just sit on the couch and shut up while my cousins and brother played with their toys and ate their candy; what was wrong with me?  I quickly learned to stay out of sight, to cope with my own problems, to live without any sort of resources or support, to think my own needs selfish, and to highly undervalue my own accomplishments.

My mother should have sold questionable used cars or timeshares or something, she really could spin to the world that she's a great mother and if anything is lacking in the children, well it is their fault and they undoubtedly deserve it.  My sister-in-law is still convinced it wasn't abuse because I was fed regularly, knowing her background, I understand her perspective, but she's fully imbibed my mother's spiked kool-aid and she thinks I'm awful because I don't appreciate my childhood.  Probably the best example of my mother's cunning is the curious case of the precious pans fiasco.  When I went to grad school and finally got my own ghetto apartment, she gave me all the odds and ends and junk cookware that can usually be scrounged from various female relations, including my recently deceased great grandmother, whose cookie sheets I am still using!  And while I appreciate her outfitting my barebones kitchen, she didn't spend a penny on anything new or used for me or part with anything she even remotely liked, but it was a great excuse to update her own cookware, and I was perfectly okay with that.

I could use those old beat up pans just fine on my old beat up stove to make macaroni and cheese or to boil eggs.  She got them as a wedding gift, so they were 20+ years old, stuff tended to burn to the bottom no matter how much you stirred or used oil or extra liquid, the handles were falling off, some lids were missing, the bottoms weren't flat, and they were a bear to clean, but it worked for a broke college student who wasn't a culinary genius.  Then came Christmas and both my uncle and my brother congratulated me most heartily on the wonderful gift bequeathed me by my mother.  I was speechless for a good five minutes wondering what they were smoking or if I was dreaming, because I really couldn't place what they were talking about.  Those pans, those fabulous pans!  I must look like an ungrateful wretch to them because when I finally figured out they were exuberant over my mom's old junk pans she was eager to update, I really couldn't say they were all that great but they were better than nothing.  What a silver tongue that woman must have!  Those pans, those fabulous pans are certainly 'good enough for her' and she made moral bank even in getting rid of something she knew to be junk.

This is the woman who owns three expensive quilting machines and has never made a quilt.  She's the chick who owns an expensive car she never drives.  To her it is all about perception, most especially controlling other people's reality.  Including telling her own daughter she is worthless, horrible, ungrateful, stupid, an embarrassment, selfish, and uncouth.  And bless my childish little heart, part of me still believes her!  Our whole culture preaches nothing but 'buy X because you are worth it' or 'buy Y and you will be amazing' but I knew innately that nothing would ever make me worthwhile, deserving of anything but the dregs of life and I hated myself for it.  But it was all a lie, just like the persistent advertising.

Then I met this crazy person that said I was not only an intrinsically valuable person simply for being a human being, but that I was also a princess, an heiress to galaxies, a veritable child of God.  When my own earthly family treated me like an intruder, an outcast, a stranger, here was the most important Being ever that's like, 'don't mess with my kid!'  And having gone through the adoption process, I appreciate how painful, tedious, and messy it can be, and here was God, telling me He wanted to adopt me, me!  I still struggle with 'good enough for her' syndrome, as it has been hammered into my soul from the earliest age, but I'm learning what a true, good Father is like, what it is to be a valued member of a family, to be safe and accepted and loved for who I am not despised for what I'm not.  So bring on the pans, or whatever else I need but am ignorant of, a true blessing from my beloved Father to His very astonished little girl!