Wordful Wednesday: The Castle of Llyr
Take any five-book series, and you can probably count on having strong feelings about the first and last, and then a mixture of impressions of the rest. Of course, my own opinions on The Prydain Chronicles are somewhat different, having great affection for books two and five. If anything, book one (The Book of Three), is the one I’m ambivalent about.
Well, I just finished reading book three, The Castle of Llyr, and I can honestly say that I was surprised. Now, this is probably my third or fourth reading of the book, but I honestly didn’t remember anything about it except for one particular scene. So you can imagine that I’d consider the book forgettable.
Not so! I don’t know if it was just the difference in reading it aloud to my son, but I really, really enjoyed The Castle of Llyr
this time.
The story is less complicated than the previous books, but it did something that I guess I should have expected: It focused on Taran. But, of course, it focused on Taran’s reaction to Eilonwy’s leaving Caer Dallben in order to become a Lady (she’s already a Princess, but a bit of a tomboy).
I do remember that reading The Prydain Chronicles was the first time I really identified with the idea of love and marriage being a cool thing. I just didn’t remember that those themes started to come out so early.
In this book, Taran once again grows more into manhood by accepting responsibility for someone he doesn’t really like, though the readers do like him. While Taran views Prince Rhun as a feckless fool, the reader can see that he’s really a good sort, just a bit scatterbrained and ill-equipped to be a leader. And he’s not entirely worthless, of course.
Once again, of course, Fflewddur Flam shines as my favorite character, and Gurgi as The Boy’s favorite. I prefer lines like this one:
“If there were a field with one stone in it he’d trip over it. A Fflam is patient, but there are limits!”
The Boy prefers this kind:
“Move aside heavy stone, evil, wicked little giant! Take away lockings and blockings! Or rageful Gurgi will smack your great feeble head!”
Actually, they’re both gold.
We actually finished reading this one on Amtrak Cascades on the way to Seattle. Very cool, that. But it made for a long day which capped an even longer long weekend. We were up at the crack of dawn Saturday and Sunday, taking Swimmer Son (aka The Pancake Eater) to a meet in Portland. It was a Sextathlon, where each swimmer in the various age-groups swam the same six events, and then were ranked based on their total time. The Boy was pretty happy with the huge second-place trophy he got. Check it out if you like.
And then there was the early morning wake-up for getting to Union Station on Monday. And the late night getting back.
Anyhow, I stopped into the Library yesterday and discovered that I’d lost track of some of my Hold Requests. You see, I like to request a book as soon as I decide to read it, but then set the activation date for it so that it doesn’t impact anything I’m currently working on. Then, I monitor those requests and re-set the activation date if my schedule doesn’t clear at the right time. But sometimes I get lazy and set a whole block of them to activate on May 15. And then they all show up at the Library on May 18.
So now I have five books out from the Library, and much as my common sense tells me to just return two of them, I fully intend to read all five in the next three weeks. Pending thumb-through, of course. But I think it’s going to happen. So those other two I’d recently checked out, which are actually on my To Be Read list, will just have to wait.
And so, I’ll reveal that next up is The Titan’s Curse, Book Three in the Percy Jackson series. It was the easiest choice among the five.
MM: Carolers, Award, Recipes
Well, my first performance with Fireside Carolers went as well as I could’ve hoped. We did our free concert at the church that hosts our rehearsals, and I didn’t flub anything in a way that could’ve been noticed. The Fair Elaine snapped a picture of me singing, looking like I was maybe a wee bit tentative. Guilty. (She also posted some pictures from our Thanksgiving Weekend on her blog.)
Next weekend I get my first real Carolers experience, as I’ll be going out in an octet on Friday and Saturday. Today’s singing actually gave me a bit of a confidence boost.
Oh, and I think I looked pretty good in my tux. Is it weird that I have a tuxedo, but don’t own even so much as a sport jacket?
BTW, for anyone needing a budget tuxedo and living in or around Portland, head over to Mr. Formal Clearance Center on SE 7th in Portland.
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So, it’s weird enough having readers of my blog whom I don’t personally know. (Like the time the other Seth Heasley’s mom dropped by.)
It’s even stranger when they like my writing enough to lob an award at me. Yes, it’s true. My Orthodox reader, DebD (of Deb on the Run), has awarded me with the Superior Scribbler award.
It’s both an award and a meme. I don’t do much meme-ing, because I’ve just gotta be meme…heh. But I’ll do my best here. First, the rules:
- Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
- Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
- Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
- Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!
- Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.
I’m fine with all these steps except for the first one. Because I simply don’t have that many Bloggy Friends that I don’t know personally. And I’d feel funny linking them, like there was a conflict of interest. So I feel that I should choose from people I’ve found online and started following.
But I haven’t done all that much of that. I’m more of a window shopper, and I know it’s wrong and all, but I click through to a lot of book review posts from Semicolon Blog’s Saturday Book Reviews, and I haven’t managed to look back at many of the authors’ non-book-review work. Except for DebD’s, and that’s because she’s posted interesting comments on my Theology Thursday ramblings.
In short, I know I must mend my ways and be a better blog commenter/follower.
But I’ll attempt to fulfill at least the spirit of the meme. I’m not planning on notifying all these folks, because a couple of them are already Big Time, so why would they care what I think?
JonV at Into the Darkness. I’ve known him since he was just a pup (Read: when he was twelve and not yet taller than me. And when he called me Mr. Heasley). Now he’s doing engineering work for the Mennonite Central Committee in Mozambique, and writing extremely verbose posts about his life there. I know I’m not really entitled to be proud of him, but I was the worship leader for the youth program way back then… (Yes, I know him personally, but he’s in Africa!!!)
Apostrophe Abuse. I’ve written quite a bit about the signs of the Apostrolypse on this here blog. But Apostrophe Abuse has pages and pages of evidence. It’s serious, folks.
Keith Law at Meadow Party. Baseball writer, food critic, book reviewer. Good work if you can get it (though I think he mostly gets paid for the baseball stuff). He inspires me to read more, and I already feel like I read a lot.
Amos at The Amateur Entymologist and Outside the Camp. His musings on English, as a non-native speaker, are always interesting. And while I don’t agree with his Calvinism, I still enjoy his theology thoughts on Outside the Camp. (BTW, I initially found him while searching “A While vs. Awhile”.)
Michael Brooks at Aetherwatch. I very much enjoyed his book, Thirteen Things that Don’t Make Sense last year. On his blog, he posts other such weirdities and his general musings.
Hey, I managed five awards! Whee!
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We had a great Thanksgiving feast, with actually a lot of vegetables. We had Marinated Vegetable Salad, which is a favorite of mine, and Roasted Carrots, Asparagus, and Brussels Sprouts.
Yes, Brussels Sprouts. Seriously. Actually, I’ve always liked them, but after reading about how much my niece and nephews enjoyed them, we had to try the recipe.
It’s a deep, dark, secret. Very complicated.
(Toss the veggies in olive oil and sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. Bake at 400-ish until done. Half-hour or so. Longer for the carrots, shorter for the asparagus.)
Yes, I used the word Recipes up in my title, so I should give a couple more away.
My sister made this killer Sweet Potato and Apple Casserole at Christmas last year, so we had to try it. (Layer sliced sweet potatoes with thinly sliced Granny Smith Apples, sprinkle some pecans over it, add some butter, orange juice, and brown sugar, and dust with cinnamon. Bake at 400-ish and take it out before it burns. Yes, it was a close call but still delicious.)
Well, we had leftovers of that dish, so I made Leftover Sweet Potato Casserole Pancakes!!!!
I threw the leftovers in the food processor (probably one and a half cups total after pureeing), then mixed in about a cup and a half of flour, a couple of eggs, a cup or so of soymilk, a tablespoon of baking powder, a dash of salt, and some orange zest, and threw it on the griddle.
Awesome! BTW, my opinions of apple desserts are well known and acknowledged by all as wrong. (Weirdly, they’re recorded in that post Other Seth’s mom commented on.)
But the Sweet Potato and Apple Casserole is seriously good, and the pancakes were, as My Son the Breakfast Appetite would say, “ridiclius.” Unfortunately, it only made eleven small pancakes, which is just not enough for five people including the Breakfast Appetite.
(BTW, I’ve been thinking I need a nickname for the Offspring, and I think I have it. The Breakfast Appetite just fits so perfectly. Or maybe The One Whose Spiritual Gift is Breakfast Eating. Or just the Breakfast Eater. Or Ethan the Breakfast Eater. Or maybe a Dances with Wolves-style name like Eats Many Pancakes. Votes? Suggestions?)
We also made from-the-hip Turkey Soup, using the leftover giblet stock and pan drippings that I didn’t turn into the world’s greatest gravy in the world. Yes, it’s perfectly acceptable to be redundant when talking about gravy. Especially when you’re a semi-veg family.
(Oh, the Turkey Soup recipe. Some of the amounts are approximate.)
- Some Turkey, chopped.
- A few carrots, chopped.
- Some celery, chopped.
- Some potatoes, chopped.
- An onion, executed in a food processor until dead, then kept on bread and water for two weeks, then beaten roundly with sticks. Please, someone get my clumsy literary reference…
- Garlic, a truckload, to taste.
- Leftover green beans (yes, we had those, too), chopped
- Spices of various kinds. One or more of the bay/basil/marjoram/thyme category.
Sauté the veggies in olive oil until you stop. Then add liquids. Like stock. Or gravy. Or a partial box of Pacific Foods Chicken Broth. (Add leftover mashed potatoes if you somehow managed to run out of gravy before potatoes. It’ll thicken the soup nicely.)
Add fresh cracked pepper and consume with leftover Non-Hockey-Puck Rolls.
MM: Birthday, Size
If my math is correct, I turn 37 today. Hard to believe, really. Especially with the amount of tree-climbing I did as a kid. In trees taller than the power lines. Through the branches of which the power lines passed. Around which power lines I climbed to get to the top.
(We were really bummed when the power company finally came along and cut the top off that tree. We could see everything from up there!)
Somehow I’ve managed to never do a birthday post before. Oh, I’ve posted on other topics on my birthday, but never one about my birthday. Strange. So I thought I’d share some deep thoughts. Or just ramble. My blog, my birthday, my rules.
Warning: this will be quite random.
I remember when I had my birthday in Kindergarten that we had a piñata. I wonder if they still allow five-year-olds (well, six in my case) to swing long wooden poles in class? Kinda doubtful, considering that most schools don’t even let you bring cupcakes anymore.
(I had this wicked-cool Star Trek jumpsuit I remember wearing on my birthday. Oh, yeah!)
Is it a sign of getting old when there are long periods of my life in which my only substantial memory is watching The Empire Strikes Back over and over? Well, there was some The Last Starfighter mixed in there, too. (BTW: First line of Starfighter: “Mmm…gonna be a sparklin’ day. Sparklin’!”)
I quote movies, therefore I am. When I read the lovely list of positive attributes The Fair Elaine wrote about me, my initial thought was “Who’s scruffy lookin’?” Anybody care to provide the movie for that quote? Or explain why it popped into my head? Because she didn’t call me half-witted or a Nerfherder. (D’oh! I gave it away, didn’t I?)
(By the way, I’m sure she wanted to do a full list, including negatives, but couldn’t think of any. Right, honey?)
As I’ve aged, I’ve found I’m an increasingly gifted sleeper. Oh, I’ve got some years to go and some skilz to develop before I’m my Dad’s equal, but has he ever fallen asleep while riding a bike? So let’s just say I have the potential to surpass him. (Bike-sleeping: Caused by morning paper route.)
And maybe the sleeping thing is just to make up for all the hours of lost sleep from college. I once fell asleep in an apartment full of people. It was my apartment. I’d been up for forty hours or so. The sacrifices one makes for an engineering degree.
I often wonder why I didn’t discover my love for reading and writing before I declared my major. Maybe it was God’s way of making sure I’d get a good job. Plus, maybe I wouldn’t love writing if I did it for a paycheck. And I’m glad I have my job.
(I had inklings about both reading and writing before I graduated, partly evidenced by the amount of extracurricular reading I was doing when I probably should’ve been paying attention in Thermodynamics.)
One thing I definitely know, with my acquired wisdom: When you’re lighting firecrackers and then throwing them, sometimes you get a Quick Fuse. And you have to get rid of it quickly. And sometimes it lands on the guy-next-to-you’s head. I was the guy-next-to-you, and I can’t remember who you were. So email me if you remember the incident. My lawyer will be contacting you. (Okay, I don’t have a lawyer.)
You know, a lot of my memories involve head injury. Like the time my wet swimming clothes caught in my spokes and sent me end-over-end. In twelfth gear, full-tilt-boogie. I held on to the handlebars admirably. In hindsight, choosing to land on my hands might’ve redirected the point of impact a bit.
And yet again, a head-injury lesson: When hurrying over to render aid to a small plane that’s just crashed on a sandbar, don’t crash your boat. Sometimes the kid at the back of the boat becomes an Undignified Flying Object and ends up with a nasty gash through his eyebrow.
(The folks in the plane were fine, BTW. And it’s not like I needed that part of my left eyebrow, anyway. It actually evened them up since the previously mentioned bike crash involved the grating off of part of my right one.)
Finally, my favorite birthday wish so far. (Apart from hugs and kisses from my wife and son, of course.) Jay McKenney instructed me to learn the baritone part to “Happy Birthday” and sing it to myself.
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Okay, from Birthday ramblings to actual fun linkage!
You’ve probably seen those cool graphics that show how small the Earth is relative to a bunch of other planets and stars, right? No? Well, check one out:
Of course, size isn’t everything. What about how small small stuff is?
The University of Utah has a cool demonstration of the relative sizes of really small stuff. Unfortunately, I can’t embed it, so you’ll have to just go check it out for yourself.
Monday Musings: Moustache, Ticket Refund, Pumpkin Recipes
Evidently, there are some people who would now characterize me as having a moustache. And it’s true, to some extent, as my current facial hair involves both a goatee and moustache, also known as the very arcane “moutee” (or Circle Beard). “Van Dyck” is another possible name for it.
(These days, most people just call it a goatee.)
My antipathy for the moustache alone can hardly be overstated. I agree with the statement I once read in the local fish-wrap that “a moustache is no less than a man’s admission to being unable to grow a full beard.”
By the way, for those in my family who may be wondering about the new facial foliage (perhaps seen over on The Fair Elaine’s blog), it was for my Halloween costume. (Dressing up as a coworker who shares my first name, whom we sometimes – affectionately? – call “Evil Seth.”)
I like having less beard to shave. And I’ll enjoy it for a while, then probably tire of the beard and let it go.
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I don’t believe I blogged about the speeding ticket I got on the way to go camping at Fort Stevens. A coworker advised me to mail the fine in along with a letter asking for leniency (or is that lenience?)
Well, it apparently worked, at least a little bit. Because I got a Ticket Refund (25% off, which doesn’t hurt).
However, I’d like to amuse myself, and perhaps some others, by reporting that my name, in full, was written on the citation itself. It was also written on the outside of the envelope in which I mailed the letter. It was further written on the letter itself, in TWO PLACES (business format, you know). So that’s a good four occurrences of my name.
So why, exactly, is my refund check made out to one Seth Morgon Hedsley? (Admittedly, I didn’t include my middle name, so I’ll give them a pass for that and be relieved it didn’t say “Moron.”
Evidently, typing instruction in Clatsop County is somewhat lacking.
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Since I referenced Pumpkin Carving, I figured I’d pass along a few Pumpkin Recipes.
If you’re just the carving type, you can at least roast the seeds:
Roasted Seeds
- Rinsed, dried seeds
- a bit of cooking oil (I used olive)
- seasoning, to taste (I used Mama Garlic – garlic salt)
Mix the seeds and seasoning in a bowl or zip-top bag, then spread out on a cookie sheet and bake for ~30 minutes at 300 degrees, until they begin to brown.
(check on them about halfway through and give them a stir/flip)
By the way, seeds from most varieties of squash can be done this way. Butternut Squash seeds are delicious, but there aren’t many of them in a typical one.
Roasting the actual pumpkin is reeeeeeeaaalllllly easy.
Roasted Pumpkin
(Best done with a pie pumpkin)
Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds and orange gunk (roast the seeds!).
Place the pumpkin halves face down in a shallow pan (jelly roll pan) with about a quarter inch or so of water.
Bake at ~425-450 degrees until a fork goes in easily. (Figure about 40 minutes to an hour, depending on size.)
When cooled, the skin will peel off pretty easily. (Or you can scrape the pumpkin out with a spoon.) If you want to use it in recipes, puree it in a food processor or blender until smooth. Freeze it in small amounts (a cup or two) for use in other recipes.
(You can also just serve it with butter, without pureeing it. It’s got a nice, sweet flavor.)
My favorite way to use cooked pumpkin?
Pumpkin Pancakes
(substitute where desired)
- 2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
- ¼ cup brown sugar
- 1 Tbsp baking powder
- ½ Tbsp cinnamon
- ½ tsp ground ginger
- ¼ tsp ground cloves
- ¼ tsp ground nutmeg
- ¼ tsp salt
- 1 ½ cups milk (or soy milk)
- 1 to 1 ½ cup pureed pumpkin
- 2 eggs
- ¼ cup butter, melted
(The original recipe calls for 4 eggs, separated, and then whipping the whites and folding them in. Too much work, IMHO, and it works just fine with fewer eggs and no extra work.)
Combine flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and spices in a large bowl.
Combine eggs, pumpkin, milk, and melted butter in a small bowl.
Add wet to dry and stir until just combined. Allow the baking powder to start working for a few minutes (also lets the flour hydrate a bit). Ladle onto a 350 degree skillet.
Serve with maple syrup (don’t even think about using the fake stuff or I’ll take the recipe back).
The Fair Elaine also makes a killer pumpkin bundt cake, but I’ll let her share the recipe if she so chooses.
True Love Tuesday
I'm sending this message out into the blogosphere, where it will be read by ones of people, I'm sure. But there's only one who really matters.
Happy Birthday, Elaine! I love you more than I can say. But here’s a short list of things I love about you:
I love that you persist in trying to talk to me while brushing your teeth, even though you know it bothers me. (And I get that you do it just to tweak me, and I'm cool with that.)
I love that you watch sports with me. I figure I owe you a few Chick Flicks by now.
I love that you mow the lawn. I’ll keep doing the dishes…(well, I do know the optimal way to load the dishwasher…)
I love that you love my pancakes and encourage me generally in my cooking (and I've gotten better since we were first married and I thought chicken had to be cooked for twenty minutes and basically turned into shoe-leather).
I love that you don’t complain about how hairy I am. That can’t have been high on your list of husbandly traits to look for.
I love that you haul around that heavy (and expensive, but we won't mention that) camera equipment and document our lives, and especially the life of our Little Man. Even when sometimes that means just documenting our getting take-out for dinner.
I love that you enjoyed it when Ethan discovered armpit music.
I love that you encourage me to write, and to even be a writer, even though you’re the English Major. And even though I want to write about bathrooms and theology.
I love that you nod politely when I talk about science fiction. And allow Ethan and me to enjoy Star Wars even though you’re not into it.
I love that you occasionally do random movie quotes, and don’t complain that I do it way too much.
I love that you have vision. For our home, for our yard, for our family.
And I love that you stretch your comfort zone. That you pour yourself into Ethan. Into homeschooling him, even though you don’t feel up to it. Even when you don’t feel good about how it’s going.
I love that you rebel against the “I could never homeschool” line we hear so often. That you do it even when it’s hard.
I love that you found something that worked and taught Ethan to read even though he wasn’t always into it. (You’re a big reason he loves to read now.)
I love you. I hope you have a great Birthday Week.