"Let's undress just like cross-eyed strangers..." *

Why do the public schools have off today? I know it’s Veterans’ Day, and while I am all for honoring our veterans (my dad was one, as are most of my uncles, and I dated at least one guy from each branch of the service at the height of my dating life, so you know I am all for supporting our men in uniform), I fail to see why my child can’t go to school, honor the vets there, and, you know, get the hell out of my hair.

Although, in his defense, Primo has been entertaining himself since nine a.m. (which is the absolute earliest I permit any radio/drumming/guitar-playing) by listening over and over AND OVER to Wilco’s “Kidsmoke.” (Have I mentioned it is the only Wilco song I actively dislike?) to ‘learn the words.’ He also seems to be learning the guitar chords, if the energetic strumming and twanging coming from his little plastic electric guitar he got for Christmas last year is any indication. I only hope the strings and tuning mechanisms hold up.

Meanwhile, the two younger boys are carefully stripping all the bedclothes off their beds, ‘because,’ and making tunnels. Well, since I change sheets in the beginning of the week anyway, I might as well let them have their fun. (See how much good not vomiting up the Zoloft does my mental state?)

I am about to shower, pack up all the boys and some lunch, and head to the Center for Creative Play. Since it’s way too soggy to throw them outside today, and so they can go run around there in the supermarket-sized space, and I can have a coffee and read and be glared at by more attentive, caring mothers.

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* "I am Trying to Break Your Heart," Wilco

"The richest person in the world...couldn't provide you with anything like the endless, incredible loot available at your local library." *

Now, I know this stack can’t possibly compete with Lazy Cow’s towering, er, tower, but I gave it my best shot.

These Is My Words - Nancy Turner. This is cheating, I guess, but I really just needed to renew this one. I have been so wrapped up in reading about disgusting psychopathic murders that I have been too busy to read a nice wholesome book about life on the prairie.

One Perfect Day - Rebecca Mead. My Favorite Librarian told me she’d just gotten married two months ago (and I wasn’t even invited, sob!) and of all the books well-meaning people sent her prior to the festivities, this was far and away the most entertaining. I can’t wait. Everyone’s worked with one of those chickies that gets engaged and turns into a wedding-planning monster (as opposed to clueless child-bride morons like me who just said, “Yup, that’s fine. Uh-huh, sure, Mom. Okey dokey, dear MIL.” See, I am so EASY). I am looking forward to this book with a somewhat disturbing tendency to salivate already beginning. [Ohmigod, I started it last night and this woman is BITTER. She’s married, so other than being so plain as to verge on homely, I have no idea what her issue is.]

Garnethill - Denise Mina. Mina gets mentioned in many of the same breaths as Val McDermid and Henning Mankell. We all know I like McDermid, if I do consider her mysteries a tad superficial; I own two Mankells but haven’t actually read any. I have read one previous Mina, and was…underwhelmed. But this one. This One is supposed to be AMAZING. We shall see. See what cruising book review sites in the middle of the night will make you go request…?

When We Were Bad - Charlotte Mendelson. Even though I do not have a curl right in the middle of my forehead, this title spoke to me. Plus, it won awards of some sort or another, which my reptile brain recalled when I saw it on the new shelf…[started this one today. Reminds me of Myla Goldberg’s Bee Season for some reason – could be all the secrets swirling throughout the narrative…]

Once Upon a Day - Lisa Tucker. It was sitting in a display with other books I read and liked, including Kite Runner and Spot of Bother. The cover was cool. And MFL said, “I arranged that display, I loved every single one of those books.” So I grabbed it.

From Hell - Alan Moore. To satisfy my graphic novel jones, once I devoured Marvel 1602 in like two hours. It’s about Jack the Ripper. I seem to be on a serial killer kick.

The TinTin is for Primo, it’s the only one he hadn’t read. What AM I going to do with that boy?

I have to point out how much I enjoy the stickers on the spines – the obvious “New Book” sticker, which may or may not mean it’s a one-week book, bright green for graphic novels (“I am NOT a real book!” it seems to shout), the starkly drawn skull for mysteries (“Read at your own risk!”). I like ‘em.

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* Malcolm Forbes