Snowflakes that Stay on My Nose and Eyelashes

Okay, so I didn't actually see snow this morning, but my parents did! I am a cold-weather girl, so I'm thrilled! Thrilled, I say! I busted out the scarves and mittens this morning. I'm wearing a turtleneck. I couldn't be happier.

I'm also happy about the fact that my car has been parked in my garage since Saturday. Saturday! I've been kicking myself for a while for driving more than I need to, because I live in the city and one of the reasons I live in the city is so I can be smug about not needing a car. Anyway, I've been biking and bussing and walking, and feeling like God's gift to the environment. (I haven't turned on my furnace yet, either. Sweater and slippers, anyone? Take *that*, Dependence on Foreign Oil!)

In other news, I've been reading some stuff lately. Hana's Suitcase: A True Story is a story within a story about a woman in Japan who wanted to teach local children about the Holocaust. She applied to various museums for some artifacts to borrow for her own small museum, and one of the items she received was a suitcase the belonged to a girl named Hana Brady. The Japanese woman and her students become fascinated with Hana, whose story makes the history dreadfully real to them, and as the book unfolds we learn the lengths they went to to gather information, as well as the heartbreaking story of Hana and her family. This book is sad but fantastic--an honest way to present the horror of the Holocaust to older children in hopes that something like this will never happen again.

Here's the thing, though: It's *so* sad that I don't want to give it to Teddy yet. I don't generally shelter him from too much--he's been to lots of funeral homes and funerals. I make sure he keeps vaguely abreast of current world events, like last year's tsunami and Katrina, and what-not. He's aware of the concept of the Holocaust and the fact that people did and do hate Jews and Black people and gay people, etc. But this just feels like too much. It's so personal. Any thoughts? Am I chickening out and doing him a disservice?

In happier reading, I just read Gidget for the first time. Why? Because The Onion A/V Club told me to. It's very different from what I remember of the TV show--much more overtly sexual, for one thing. This is a representation of the 50s that feels much more real than the whitewashed images I normally think of. And it amazes me that the stories that inspired the book were told to the author by his daughter. These aren't things I'd share with my dad *now*, let alone as a fifteen year old girl in the 50s. If you have 90 minutes or so to kill, you should check it out.

And finally, I grabbed this book as I was checking out at the library on Sunday. You'd think that something called "Theatre for Children: Fifteen Classic Plays" would be something fun and worthwhile. So much for truth in advertising, though! What crap! The version I picked up includes a few different titles, and Ted and I read about half of one ABOUT THE GRINCH STEALING CHRISTMAS last night. We had a blast laughing about how bad the damned thing was, and I'm glad (because again, reading is fun), but it got me to thinking about some of the *awful* plays I was in back in grade school. There was a Christmas play called G.T. (Glad Tidings was the name of the main character) wherein the audience was invited to travel through time and space to observe different Christmas stories and traditions . . . and then a musical featuring cave people named Rock and Martha. Gad. Are there no good plays for kids? Is this something I should start working on? :-)

Anyway, that's it for now. I should actually do some of the work they pay me the big bucks for.