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Posted by Caren Crane Apr 21 2012, 1:13 am in book clubs, books, Caren Crane, David Sedaris, ella minnow pea, Genres, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Shakespeare, something different, The Weird Sisters, what are you reading
Maybe because many people know I write, I’m often asked what I’m reading. I read a ton of books every year, especially considering I work full-time. I buy, beg and borrow lots of books in lots of different genres and sub-genres, and people are sometimes surprised at what I’m reading.
 I also belong to a book club with about 14 other people at work. We take turns picking a book for each month, then meet for lunch once a month to discuss the book. This can be a bit like herding cats for the facilitator, but makes for energetic and lively conversation. It also forces me to read books I would not normally pick up. My sisters, mother, daughters and sometimes my son, recommend books they are sure I will love. Almost 100% of the time, these books are nothing I would ever pick up in a million years. Many, however, have turned into some of my favorite books of all time.
I wanted to share some of the most interesting books I have read lately that may not have crossed your radar, so here is a short list of books you may want to pick up if you’re looking for something different:
 1. The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown – This book is women’s fiction and is a tale of three grown (30ish) sisters. Their father is a Shakespearean scholar and professor and they grew up in a small college town in Ohio. They are brought home when their mother is diagnosed with cancer – and due to circumstances in their own lives. The two most interesting things about this book, to me, were: 1) the exceptional and excellent use of third-person collective, omniscient POV; and, 2) the insistent interweaving of childhood anecdotes throughout the book. A fun, fast read that feels different. This was a book I picked for book club based on reviews and I was very happy with my choice.
 2. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clark – This book is set in the Regency, during and after the Peninsular Wars. It is the story of two very different magicians who are attempting to resurrect “good English magic” and the trouble that ensues. My mother recommended this book to me and it was an absolute delight. It is also lengthy – almost 900 pages – so anyone who enjoys stories set during the Regency and also enjoys a bit of fun and magic in-depth character studies all set in a hefty book should enjoy this one. I have not had so much sheer reading delight in a long time (okay, since last summer’s plow through the whole A Song of Ice and Fire series – recommended and gifted to me by my son).
 3. When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris – If you’ve never read David Sedaris, you may not want to start with this book. His books are all hilarious collections of essays – some very true, some mostly true, some slightly true and some purely fictional. You get to decide which are which. For the beginner, I would recommend Holidays On Ice or Me Talk Pretty One Day. He is laugh-out-loud funny and tells painful truths about himself and all of us. This is a fairly recent (2008) collection of essays and, now that Sedaris is 50-ish, his painful truths of being middle-aged, living with a long-term partner, living in foreign countries, dealing with family and handling things like trying to quit smoking are even more searingly close-to-home for me than his earlier fare. This was a book club pick by another member and I was delighted she chose it.
 4. Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters by Mark Dunn – The original hardcover title was Ella Minnow Pea: a progressively lipogramatic epistolary fable, but apparently people were intimidated by that title, so they dumbed it down for us. This is a short, insanely fun book about a fictional island nation off the coast of South Carolina, where the inhabitants pay undying and very serious homage to their most famous citizen, Ned Nollop, the supposed creator of the well-known pangram “the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” In the course of the book, letters from the pangram begin falling off the statue of Nollop in the town square and the reactive town leaders decide that as letters fall off, they must be excised from speech, writing and literature. Communication quickly becomes both difficult and frustrating for island inhabitants. The punishment? Public censure for a first offense, lashing or stocks (violator’s choice) upon a second offense and permanent banishment from the island nation upon the third. Compelling, fast-paced and a rollicking good time!
So what great book have you read lately that was different from your usual picks? Do you have friends, relatives or a book club that push your reading boundaries? Please share, because we all love to discover great new (to us) books!
Posted by Caren Crane Mar 4 2012, 12:41 am in anemia, body language, Caren Crane, exhaustion, keys locked in car, lost keys
I like to think I’m getting wiser as I get older – and believe me, the new crop of silver hair tells me I am definitely getting older. Still, some lessons I learn over and over and over again. For instance, I think I have learned to listen to what my body is telling me. That is, when my body talks very loudly and in no uncertain terms. Otherwise, I tend to ignore its subtle messages and small urgings until it becomes impossible.
 One of these lessons I’ve learned the hard way is that when I am really run down, I lock my keys in the car. I don’t know why, of all the things I could do or all the signs my body could send me, that’s the one it chooses as a wake-up call, but it is. Being locked out of my car can be a sign of: pregnancy (I did this three times with my son); illness (I’ve done this when I had a terrible, ongoing sinus infection); anemia (I’ve done it when my iron was really low, which is exhausting); or, simple overexertion (I’ve done this when burning the candle at both ends for an extended period of time). Whatever the cause, I will find myself one day (or night) standing beside my locked car, far from home, rummaging through my purse and my pockets, looking on the ground and retracing my steps, only to find my keys are there waiting for me, safely locked inside my car.
 One night last week, I left a meeting, anxious to get home and see my family. We had been going in different directions since early morning and I hoped, by 9:00 pm, to be safe at home, surrounded by my loved ones. I was exhausted, although it had not been a particularly strenuous day, and I had yawned through the meeting. Now, it was dark and chilly and I was standing in the parking lot, rummaging through my purse and my pockets, looking on the ground and retracing my steps, but no key was found. I went back to the car and drew the only logical conclusion: my keys were there waiting for me, safely locked inside my car. Sighing, I called my daughter to drive the 20 minutes from our house and bring the key. She did so happily, because she is a sweet child who is dear to my heart. She unlocked the door and there was the key on the floor of the car, right where I had dropped it when I was getting out.
 Even as incredibly tired as I was, I quickly reviewed what I knew about myself and locking keys in cars. I quickly ruled out pregnancy, illness and overexertion. That left my old friend anemia. Anemia was a likely candidate for an obvious, feminine reason I got to enjoy twice in February (the shortest month of the year). Despite the massive doses of supplemental iron I take, I just don’t absorb iron well. A gift, as it were, from my mother. I went home, got ready, fell in bed, and realized that although I hadn’t gotten to spend time with my loved ones after all, I had spent time with myself while I waited for my daughter and the spare key. And while I waited, my body did some talking to me and, forced by circumstances, I listened to it. I really should be getting the messages my body is sending after all these years. Somehow, though, I still need the really loud broadcasts that are impossible to ignore. At least I listen to those!
 I haven’t used this particular kind of cluelessness in a story yet, but I know it’s just a matter of time. I have certainly read books and seen movies where I KNEW what was wrong with the heroine or hero before s/he did. Ages before! So why can’t real life be more like books and movies? That way I would say, “Hey, she sure does look pale and exhausted. I’ll bet she has iron-deficiency anemia. Again.” If only! 
Has your body got a secret code you’ve figured out (maybe the hard way)? Ever want to scream at a character in a movie, TV show or book because they are so clueless about issues you have worked out for them? What’s your favorite “reveal” of a character’s shocking illness or news from movies, TV or books? And am I the only one with a thing about locking the keys in the car…?
Posted by Caren Crane Feb 5 2012, 12:11 am in author teams, Caren Crane, collaboration, group project, lone wolf, teamwork, writing
Growing up, I considered myself something of a Lone Wolf: independent, needing no one, going it alone. I laugh at my young self now, because I grew up in a large family, where time alone was invariably at a premium? I was more pack animal than lone wolf, but I suppose it was the Lone Wolf attitude I adopted more than its actuality. My husband was much the same when I met him: fiercely independent, determined to do everything by and for himself. After we married, learning to depend on each other was quite a challenge, but having three children forces even the most stalwart loner to become quite interdependent.
 I also recall that at work in the 1990s, “teamwork” was the buzzword in my office and companies everywhere. Learning to do group brainstorming, listening to others and incorporating the best ideas, regardless of their origin, was suddenly the fashion. I worked in engineering and the many lone wolves in the profession had trouble adjusting to this new corporate culture. For better or worse, those whose home lives hadn’t forced it on them had to learn to collaborate at last. Even in the writing industry, teamwork has taken off. Writing teams and collaborative story collections have gained popularity and seem to be here to stay.
 I certainly have learned to love working, at home and in volunteer positions, alongside my husband. It made me realize that, rather than losing my independence, working with others has been a huge gain to me in any number of ways. I, and many others, have realized that we can accomplish more, do more good and work more efficiently when we work together. We are, hands down, better together. This was brought home to me recently when I realized that my husband and I had, once again, overcommitted ourselves. This particular day, we had a Board meeting at 2:00, dinner for 60 to start cooking at 3:00, a reunion meeting of this volunteer group at 5:00, dinner at 6:00, dinner clean-up while part of the group did sponsorship training at 7:00, a communion service at 8:00 and a candlelight service at 9:30. Which put us home right before 11:00. I was exhausted just thinking about it!
 But then a wonderful, unexpected thing happened. After the Board meeting, all the Board members streamed outside to help us unload food and equipment. Then, they hung around and helped in the kitchen. Anything we needed done was done quickly and happily. We finished food prep in record time and had plenty of time to visit, catch up with old friends, meet new ones and enjoy the rest of the evening. It was still long and rather tiring, but altogether an amazing experience. I should have known we wouldn’t have to do all those things alone, especially with this group, but I was forcefully reminded how much better we are as a team. Better together. The words that once made me shake my head in disdain – as if people who needed others were somehow wanting – are now words I live by. Happily! 
How about you? Are you naturally a Lone Wolf type or a born collaborator? Have you had any great experiences of being Better Together? Or were they all like that 8th grade “group project” you ended up doing by yourself? I can’t wait to hear your stories!
Posted by Caren Crane Jan 8 2012, 1:01 am in Amazon, book piracy, Caren Crane, free books, free download, kindle, piracy
by Caren Crane
Yeah, I though that would get your attention. It certainly gets mine! As much as I love to read, free books make me feel like a crack addict in line at the methadone clinic. Must. Have. Books! As I have mentioned (ad nauseum), I got a Kindle for my birthday last May. As soon as I did, my son came over and loaded a number of books onto it for me as a gift. Free books!
That was enough to get me solidly hooked on the splendors of reading on the Kindle. But then I found out that Amazon offers all kinds of free books(!) for the Kindle. I was hooked for LIFE, people. But then my husband got a Kindle of his own and he started on a free book frenzy, too. The circumstances of this brought vividly to life that there is a Light Side and a Dark Side of all this electronic book availability. Let’s peek behind the curtain, shall we?
The Light Side
 On the Light Side there are, as I said, many free books available for the Kindle and in other e-book formats. Most of these are classics which are in the public domain. That means the copyright has expired and the author has no claim to royalties, basically. Anyone can publish it, in its entirety, and offer it free wherever they like. Of course, publishers still make money on many of these by packaging “special editions” or academic editions, but the money goes to the publishers not the authors (who are, in most cases, deceased) or their heirs. I have no compunction about downloading and enjoying these books.
Many authors and publishers also offer free books, short stories, or other content, to readers. Although they do not get compensated directly, these “teasers” often hook readers on a new author they may not otherwise have discovered. In those cases, the free book resulted in sales of other books so the author, at last, is compensated for their work. Win-win!
The Dark Side
 On the Dark Side, there are many free books that are offered by websites who have no rights to the books they offer that are still copyright-protected. In other cases, people may buy books and share them with friends by sending them a file. Unless they have permission, such as is granted for some books on Amazon, allowing you to lend them to another Kindle user, this is a violation of the book’s purchase since the publisher and author receive no money. The ugly name for this is piracy. My husband has a friend who has given him hundreds of books. I don’t know whether he purchased or simply downloaded pirated content, but in either case, my husband is getting a TON of content free and no publisher nor author is receiving a penny from him. Win-Lose. 
 This really burns my biscuits and has been the subject of many heated – and unresolved – conflicts between us. As a writer, I feel it is plain wrong for anyone to download pirated content and deny the author of the content of any compensation for their consumption. I completely understand the temptation to download free content from a sketchy source, and I try hard not to judge others for doing so, but I simply cannot support it. My husband, on the other hand, sees no harm in downloading books his friend sent him. His argument is, he wouldn’t have paid for the books anyway. He either would never have read them or would have checked them out of the public library. He is very cheap, so I believe him on this point. Still…burned biscuits!!
So where do you fall in this debate? Is it okay to download books as long as you are not knowingly robbing the author of royalties? Can you support a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy like my husband’s? And have you ever found a new Great Author by downloading a free book first? Do tell!
Posted by Caren Crane Dec 30 2011, 11:02 am in Aches and Pains, Caren Crane, Excuses, Gray Hair, Growing Old, Old Age, reading, Sherlock Holmes, The Night Circus
There is a reason this blog posted in the middle of the day rather than the middle of the night (USA Eastern time, anyway): I am getting old. Not like senile, losing track of who I am old – although I can see it coming – but run-of-the-mill, life is getting away from me old. I intentionally took today off work, since it’s the last workday of the year and I had one more day to burn. Plus, I had traded days with Jo and was supposed to blog – perfect! Except…then I got sidetracked. Totally sidelined by things like:
 1. Sherlock Holmes – My BFF and I had a Groupon for Indian food last night AND the added bonus of passes to our favorite art house movie theater, The Galaxy. Instead of staying home and drafting the blog as I should have done, I went out to play. Please understand, seeing Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law kick some Moriarty butt (or get their butts kicked, as sometimes happened) was an awesomely good time. The vegetable biryani, too, was incredibly delightful. Best of all was spending time with my best friend, who has been dealing with a very ill mother-in-law who lives 5 hours away and her poor husband, who is very concerned about his mama. Altogether, a delectable distraction for us both, but a distraction nonetheless.
 2. Graying Hair - Why? Why do we have to worry with hiding the gray or learning to accept the gray or even learning to style the gray? It seems a harsh icing on top of the aging cake, if you ask me. I’ve been letting the gray show the past month, partly due to sheer indolence and partly due to a combination of Christmas craziness and curiosity about how much gray there is. The How Much Is There question has been answered: not enough to bother me, really, but enough that I can’t style my hair. Gray hair, for you youngsters, is not at all porous and will not “take” any hair product at all. Believe me. So, I have been a bit obsessed this week with Getting To Friday so I can color my hair. Miss Clairol and I have a date right after I post this.
 3. Creaks and Moans – Some of you know that I have been battling an ongoing problem with my hip(s) and all the muscles and tendons attached to them this fall (and now winter). My brain has been screaming that I’m too young for this for months now, but the stiffness, aches and pains linger on. So, I get to do stretches and exercises as soon as I awake, during the day (which is fun to try to do at work) and before bed. It’s quite time-consuming, really. It also tends to take up time that I normally spend commenting on blogs (ours and others) and, in general, keeping up with things I’m supposed to be doing – like blogging!
 4. Reading – A side effect of my recent Period Of Rest for my hip(s) has been that I have been forced to be still. Those of you who know me understand that I can be still, but I don’t care to be still for very long. In an effort to not Lose My Freaking Mind, I have watched many movies from my streaming Netflix (via Roku) and I have read many, many books. Most of you will empathize with me when I say: Reading Is Addictive. It is! I find it hard, now that my physical therapist has rendered me quasi-mobile, to give it up. I am currently reading Erin Morgenstern’s ‘The Night Circus’, which is the Most Amazing Book I have read since…yes, I’m going to say it…since George R. R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series. If you haven’t read an excerpt or checked out her Amazing Website, run off and do that after you comment.
So, there are plenty of REASONS I can blame Old Age for this Very Tardy Post; however, there are no Excuses. Please forgive me, dear Bandita Buddies, for allowing my gray hair and Robert Downey Jr. to distract me. And while you’re at it, please do let us know what your favorite REASON for being late is. We all have one – checking on the animals, dropping off/picking up kids, phone calls from your mother – so please share. Meanwhile, I’ll be over here with Miss Clairol, temporarily covering one of my own. 
Posted by Caren Crane Sep 4 2011, 4:18 am in Bach, baroque music, Caren Crane, classical music, hobbies, sore fingers, violin
by Caren Crane
 Dearest Banditas and Buddies, I have a confession to make. In my misspent youth, I devoted hours every day to study and practice of a cruel instrument of torture. I evoked scorn in my siblings, forbearance in my parents and derision in my friends. I suffered bodily pain and nauseating uncertainty on a daily basis. Some of you may have suffered a similar sort of obsession in your youth. My dear ones, I was a slave to…the violin.
Please do not mistake my devotion for actual talent. God gave me a boundless love of beautiful music and a very modest gift for it. I am not being modest, as Johann Sebastian Bach was when he referred to “the small talents for music which Heaven had granted him.” No, I seriously have only a competence for playing violin. That is about what one can expect from 10 years of public school strings ensemble/orchestra and zero private instruction, so I try to be content.
Another confession: I have taken up playing violin again. This is after a 28-year hiatus. Twenty-eight years. Some of you haven’t been alive that long! To recap: 10 years of enthusiastic, but dubious, study and instruction followed by 28 years of almost never touching my violin. This doesn’t seem like it would bode well for my abilities these days. Believe me, it doesn’t!
 But I looked around at my little nest after we moved the second child to college last month. I scanned my calendar. I noted all the free time I have now that my neediest child is away for much of the year. I noted, with an aching heart, that my youngest – my baby! – is now a senior in high school. I wondered how I would fill the time after she, too, goes away to school. The answer seemed both obvious and crazy to me: start playing violin again.
 So, I contacted a man at church who encourages members of the congregation every fall to “dust off their instruments” and join the String Ensemble. He was initially excited that I was interested, but was disconcerted with my level of need. I don’t think he took me seriously when I said I hadn’t played in 28 years. He figured out pretty quick, though, that I was in no way exaggerating my rustiness. (Actual portrait of me playing violin in high school – hand-tinted sepia, which was all the rage in the 20s!)
I picked up my long-neglected violin 12 days ago.  Since then, I have spent lots of money on new strings, a new bridge, a new sound post, 2 new shoulder rests, a new chin rest, a new bow and getting my old bow rehaired (not to mention the labor that went into setting up the new bridge and soundpost). I remembered that I like the guys in the fiddle shop much better than the snooty “luthier” who caters to professional musicians. I also learned from the snooty luthier that my violin has a level fingerboard – a near-fatal flaw according to this guy and the source of some back pain. He looked quite disgusted when I told him I couldn’t afford another violin, so I was going to have to work around it.
My fatally-flawed violin and I have been practicing – okay, relearning – absolutely everything in the past 12 days. We have also rekindled a deep affection for Bach. I am working on a Bach menuet for an audition with the Really Terrible Orchestra Of the Triangle (that’s a real thing – Google it!). I may be too terrible for them; time will tell. I do know that my left-hand fingers have never been so sore and that I haven’t been this happy in years.
So do you have an interest, hobby or love have you rediscovered from your misspent youth? Or do you have something in mind you would like to take up “one of these days”? Do share! And if you have any suggestions for toughening up tender fingertips, please pass them along. 
Posted by Caren Crane Aug 21 2011, 4:14 am in Caren Crane, college move-in, UNC-Chapel Hill
by Caren Crane
 Before anyone gets concerned, this blog is not about me going anywhere. No, this is about something that is happening all over the country. It started last week and will continue for several weeks to come. This is about a bunch of parents – me and my husband included – packing their cars, vans and SUVs full of junk and hauling it all to universities near and far. This is about the stuff of dreams and all-too-much drama: college move-in day.
 On Friday, we had the dubious pleasure of moving our middle child and older daughter to college. She happens to be attending the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (yes, I own one of these buttons – Go Tarheels!), but I’m sure our experience was fairly common. We followed a series of signs along a convoluted route to get in a line to be assigned a parking area where we were allotted a generous 45 minutes to “unload”.
Now, we have an ancient Plymouth Voyager SE minivan – the extra long kind.  We took out the back bench seat and were able to load the 10-foot-long roll of carpet into it. It fit perfectly, as if designed for just such duty. I have a feeling those minivan engineers had packed more than one kid off to college! In addition to the carpet, we had a dorm fridge, saucer chair, all manner of clothes, shoes, bedding, books, hangers, toiletries, laptop, etc. I don’t recall my son having nearly as much stuff, but guys have different priorities. I recall lots of angst over routers, ethernet connections and gaming systems when he went to college.
We managed to get the van unloaded and everything carted to the 9th floor (yes, the 9th of 10 floors) in the furthest dorm from the main campus. The RAs and residence hall staff were all great. They arranged it so only half the kids were moving into the dorm on Friday and the other half Saturday. It seemed – on Friday – to http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifbe working fairly seamlessly. (For fun, click on this time lapse movie of move-in to my daughter’s dorm – it’s #4, Hinton James. It looks like it was taken last year, when there was a big storm moving through, and I have to say there were LOTS more cars there this year.)
 I was fine while we dropped the daughter off. She was more than ready for us to leave by the time we left. My husband and I were both rather down and depressed Friday night. It didn’t help that the youngest – who will be a high school senior this year – spent the night with a friend and was gone all day Saturday at a church event. We got a real taste of the empty nest. I had to call my mother on Saturday and whine a bit. She understood exactly what I was whining about.
 On Saturday, I had to go back to the university to deliver the second load. This load was everything that she had forgotten on Friday. By late Saturday afternoon, when I arrived with said second load, things were winding down and there wasn’t an RA in sight. The parents who had driven down from places like New York and Minnesota looked dazed by the heat, humidity and lack of air conditioning in the elevators. But hey, at least they have A/C units in all the rooms now. They just finished air conditioning the last of the dorms LAST YEAR, if you can believe it. As balmy as it was in my daughter’s suite on the 9th floor, at least there was a window unit chugging away. Again, my daughter was more than ready for me to be gone when I left.
 Meanwhile, one my friends reported that when her son went to drop his daughter off at college on Friday, she cried and begged to be taken home. It took all his powers of persuasion to get his daughter to tearfully agree to stay and give it a try. While I was a bit disappointed that our daughter didn’t even pretend she would miss us, I was really glad that she didn’t cry and beg to be taken home. I’m not sure I could have steeled myself to leave her there if she had. Kindergarten was bad enough!
Do you have a college move-in day experience to share? Yours or your kids or someone you know? I recall my own being fairly calm, like my daughter’s. Did you beg your parents to take you home – or did your kids beg you to take them home? I’ll bet there are as many stories as their are kids. Do share! Meanwhile, I’ll be waiting to see if more urgent phone calls come in for more urgently-needed “stuff”. I’ll also be planning how to get it all moved out at the end of the semester! ; )
Posted by Caren Crane Jul 16 2011, 4:15 am in Caren Crane, Damsel in Distress, home improvement, home repair, plumbing woes, Rosie the Riveter, stuck faucet diverter
by Caren Crane
 A few weeks ago, my best friend confessed that she had no water running from her kitchen faucet, although the side sprayer worked fine. Her husband has been dealing with a mother in very poor health, who lives 4-1/2 hours away from them. He has been trying to work his full-time job while also running her to dialysis, therapy, doctor’s appointments and the hospital (which is 3 hours from where she lives). Bad situation and not one that is conducive to DIY plumbing repairs. They don’t have money to call a plumber, so the faucet is still not working.
 My friend has friends from out of town coming to stay in a little over a week, so the plumbing issue is making her anxious. After listening to her lament about it this week, I finally said the words I had been carefully holding back behind my bitten tongue ever since I first heard about the faucet. “Why don’t you fix it yourself?”
As most women know, those words can put a strain on a friendship if not said with lots of love and every intention of pitching in to help. I said them with love and promptly began to offer help – from my desk at work, with links to articles and videos on the Internet. Every suggestion was met with stumbling blocks as to why it wouldn’t work in her case. Finally, I realized the real issue was the same one I knew existed all along: my BFF, whom I love so dearly, is a Damsel In Distress.
 Now, there is nothing wrong with being a Damsel In Distress. Most of the time, the Damsel flings her soft white hands in the air and rushes off to inform the closest male (significant other, relative, friend or co-worker) of her plight. He rushes in (or moseys over, or rolls his eyes) and fixes it (or promises to…someday or calls someone). I confess, I am not a Damsel In Distress, but I have played one on occasion, especially when it’s computer-related and my techno-nerd husband is just upstairs. Or, you know, when I just don’t feel like cleaning the dead bird off the porch or mucking out the gutters or whatever.
Damsels are very clever women, well-versed in the art of getting men (or other women) to do distasteful things for them. But they need lots of patience and I simply don’t have enough! I tend to be more of a Rosie the Riveter. The kind of woman who rolls up her sleeves and gets things done, by gum. I come from a long line of Rosies and my mother and oldest sister were (and are) amazing DIY role models.
After my lovingly offered advice was dispensed, I took what was, perhaps, a rather unhealthy interest in my BFF’s faucet with the stuck diverter (my diagnosis). I learned more about kitchen faucets this week than I ever wanted to know! I was determined we would fix it this weekend while her husband was out of town. I also figured if the Allen screw was corroded in place or something, I could always call my husband, Damsel-style, to come lend us his muscle.  Then we found out it is impossible to get replacement parts for this particular faucet, so my poor BFF will have to get by with the sprayer alone until they can afford a new faucet. So much for me playing Rosie and getting things done! 
 So, are you a Damsel in Distress, willing and able to coax men (or other women) into riding to your rescue? Or are you a Rosie the Riveter, hitting the home improvement store for parts and the Internet (or even a man) for advice? And what is the toughest home repair you have either tackled yourself or convinced someone to tackle for you? I can’t wait to hear your stories!
Posted by Caren Crane Jul 3 2011, 5:33 pm in Caren Crane, indolence, Lazy Sunday
by Caren Crane
 Here in the Lair, holidays often sneak up on us – especially when they are on a Monday. Tomorrow is Independence Day here in the U.S.A. and most people are traveling this weekend. Or, like me, they plan to be especially indolent the entire three-day weekend.
My list of accomplishments so far:
1. Got hooked on a new (to me) series: Lie To Me. It’s available for Instant View on Netflix and I totally got sucked in last night! More of that to come today, I’m sure.
 2. Shelled and cooked some purple-hull peas. My husband helped some immigrants from Budan start a community garden this spring. He went to check on some things yesterday and they sent him home with the peas, a bit of okra, a couple of honeydew melons and some cucumbers. Good eating for us this weekend! I cooked the peas in some chicken stock (which my husband make for me because I’ve been sick the past week) and some onions. They were Heaven!
3. Watched ‘The Lion King’ with my youngest, who was home for about a day and a half between camp sessions. Actually, we also watched ‘To Sir, With Love’, which she had never seen. She’s already on her way back to camp, so no more mothering for me this weekend.
 4. Read some back issues of ‘Rolling Stone’ magazine. I hadn’t read it in recent years and I must say that they are publishing some of the most in-depth and insightful articles on politics and current events in the U.S.A. that I have read in a long time. Great stuff! (And if you don’t know why you should be afraid of Roger Ailes, look up the article ‘Fear Factor’!)
5. Hm…trying for a fifth thing here. Oh, I changed the sheets on my bed! Well, I took them off and washed them and put the fitted sheet back on. Then I was exhausted and my husband finished it, but I’m going to count it anyway.
 As promised, complete indolence! I usually feel the need to get really busy and accomplish tasks I normally put off. Since I’ve been under the weather, though, I’ve taken the pressure off and succumbed to my natural state of sluggishness. (If you haven’t seen the ‘Lazy Sunday‘ videos and the others by Lonely Island, you’re missing out!)
What are you up to this lazy Sunday? If you’re in the U.S., any plans for Independence Day? And when you have a day to be lazy, what do you indulge in? Lazy Banditas want to know!
Posted by Caren Crane Jun 12 2011, 5:01 am in Caren Crane, childhood memories, life events, memories, photographs, Significant Milestones, writer's life
by Caren Crane
 I had a lovely daughter graduate from high school yesterday and it was one of those Significant Milestones that should be Caught On Film. I have a few pictures, most of which I am not in because I was taking the pictures, but I have some. They are now held hostage on my digital camera because I am too…let’s not call it lazy, rather unwilling to take the time to upload all the pictures to my PC (although I did this one time, just to have a picture for this blog post!).
 I have masses of picture prints from other Significant Milestones sitting in boxes in my dining room and guest room closet. (My husband would have consigned them to the attic and did not understand they would be ruined by being stored there!) I have no plans for these pictures, except to take them out from time to time and look at them or share them with others in the pictures. “Oh, look how cute they were then!”
 I do not scrapbook (which I need to, because I’ll forget this picture was Rachel’s last day of school someday). I don’t make cheesy photo collages to hang on the wall of the stairwell. There are no lines of framed school pictures from kindergarten through graduation on a mantle or wall or dresser in my home. I do have photos I have stuck in frames from time to time, more from shame and fear of being the Worst Mother Ever than any other motivation. I also have a very fragile and changeable collage of photos covering my fridge (ask anyone who has been to the house!) that spans the past couple of decades. I think there is even a baby picture of me up there!
 I have great photos that I feel I should do something with, but I realize I probably won’t. I may get them scanned one day – or I may give them to one of my kids to scan one day (seems much more likely). I don’t want to lose them or be without them. I also would love for my kids to do what I still do at my mother’s house: take down the boxes of photos and sift through them, remembering, laughing and smiling. Come to think of it, my mother never made scrapbooks or memory albums either. She tossed packets of photos in a drawer or box and still has them there. Maybe it’s hereditary – or maybe, like me, she’s just not a visually-oriented person. Then again, I’ve never thought she was the Worst Mom Ever, either. I am always thrilled to sift through and unearth the treasures that await me in her precious boxes.
 So maybe I’ll upload my photos to a memory stick and take them to Walgreens and have those Significant Milestones turned into pieces of colored paper. Then I’ll stick them in a box, put them in the closet, shut the door and let them age a bit. By the time they are pulled out, sifted through, smiled over, laughed at and remembered, they will be Treasured Memories. I may even be in a few of them!
 Do you make memory albums or scrapbooks or do you toss the photos in a box or file or drawer? Any particularly wonderful photos from your own Significant Milestones you would like to tell us about?
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