Several years ago I attempted to read Tolstoy’s War and Peace, “attempted” being the operative word. I got knee-deep (okay, maybe ankle-deep) in this great piece of literature before abandoning it for other reading endeavors. So, a few weeks ago, in the traveling library we like to call the Bookmobile, I was somewhat suprised that the cover of another Tolstoy novel beckoned to me… Anna Karenina. Upon seeing the Oprah’s Book Club symbol I almost put the book back out of embarrassment as if reading an “Oprah” book was too trendy and housewife-ish. I’m glad I didn’t let pride interfere with this book choice, though, as I now understand why Tolstoy is such a revered author. His command of the written word is truly amazing and if I had not been reading a borrowed copy of the book I would have highlighted and underlined enormous sections of the novel. I believe Tolstoy has exceptional insight into human nature, which he then records in astounding detail. My one recommendation is that if you choose to read Anna Karenina, pick the version translated by Volokhonsky and Pevear; I’m convinced their meticulous translation allowed me to enjoy and finish the entire novel.

After completing the book I got online and looked around for some analysis on the tale—lo and behold I discovered Bernard Rose’s motion picture, released in 1997. A quick look at the cast revealed great promise: Sophie Marceau as Anna, Sean Bean as her lover Count Vronksy, and Alfred Molina as Levin (my favorite character). With great expectation, and forgetting that typically movies are never as good as their written counterparts, I watched the flick and discovered that looks aren’t everything. The movie is beautiful—the actors, costumes and sets are very well-done—but I was disappointed at the film’s outset due to Levin’s voiceover narration (which annoyingly continued throughout the entire movie). In addition, I disagreed with the director’s interpretation of the tale’s two romantic relationships (Anna/Vronksy and Levin/Kitty) as being parallel stories. Tolstoy’s novel contains several examples of love and marriage, infidelity and fidelity; these two storylines are simply the most prominent. My last complaint is somewhat minor, but nagging nonetheless… All actors spoke English (with a smattering of Russian), but each with an accent from his or her own country. You’ve got Molina and Bean with British accents, Marceau with a French twist, and even worse, Mia Kirshner (a darling Kitty) with an American accent. Argh! If Kirshner had attempted even a semi-British accent I would have been much happier. (The same thing bothered me in Troy as well.)

As often is the case, the book is excellent and the 1997 movie is fair-to-middling. If you want to conquer Tolstoy, I’d suggest Anna Karenina… but don’t take my word for it [said in Lavar Burton voice]. For just a hint of Tolstoy’s genius, read the first two paragraphs of this passage on Levin’s adjustment to married life.

IT’S FINAL!

Our adoption was finalized this morning—praise the Lord!! Do a little jig, crack a smile, or laugh out loud with joy! Get your happy face on and thank the good Lord with us. May God grant us the grace to raise Livia with wisdom and lots of love.

I’m in the midst of a transition from part-time administrative assistant to full-time homemaker. First I must say that I LOVE MY DAUGHTER, she’s my joy and delight and I’m incredibly blessed to spend my days with her. Nonetheless, this transition is a bit of a challenge and it’s pulling on my heart some tonight. Tonight I began missing my office. I miss the daily discussions with my coworkers. I miss knowing what’s going on both within the office and within the church. I miss the satisfaction of working five hours each day and mentally calculating my monetary earnings. I miss the organization (don’t laugh, the Zion office does have *some* organization!) of my desk, this posted here and that filed there. I just miss it. My home right now feels like the opposite of my sentimental office longings… There’s baby stuff, Becca stuff, Jeremy stuff everywhere. Here stuff, there stuff, everywhere stuff-stuff. Old McTredway had a house—E-I-E-I-O. My tasks seem never-ending and unrewarding at times. What? Another dish is dirty? Didn’t I just wash that dish??? Huh? A bag of Doritos in the bathroom and baby socks on the stairs? How’d they get there? When Jeremy comes home at the end of the day and I try to give him a synopsis of my doings, I’m left with very little to talk about. The mental calculations add up to: fed Livia, diapered Livia and generally kept Livia happy. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE LIVIA and would sacrifice my body to wild wolves in order to keep her tummy full, bottom clean and a smile on her adorable face. That’s not the point. The point is that I’m experiencing some change in my life and I’ve never been one to eagerly embrace change. I miss the office. Things just seemed easier there.

We’re officially doing the Blockbuster-imitates-Netflix-deal for the next month. Couldn’t resist when they offered $10 off the normal price. So hold onto your hats, it’s movie time. If you want to get in touch with us for the next four weeks, plan on leaving a message&#151’cuz, baby, we’re watchin’ the boob tube! Pookie’s sleeping (which means I need to grab a quick nap, too), so for now I’ll leave a review of our recent viewings.

The stay-at-home mom’s work apparel is negotiable. She could just as easily wash bottles and clean toilets in her pajamas as well as in shorts and a t-shirt. I was aware of this truth prior to bringing Livia home and was prepared for at least one aspect of the transition from working outside the home to working inside the home. I once heard another mom say that she needed to shower and get dressed each day, just as she would for any other job. (Those of you with kids understand that the seemingly simple tasks of showering and dressing are not simple whatsoever when you are caring for every need of another human being.) I’m quickly realizing that my self-esteem is based, at least to a degree, on the way I present myself physically. If I’m scruffy all day long, in junky jean shorts and a t-shirt with little to no makeup, I don’t exactly feel great about myself. It’s important for me to maintain a respectable persona apart from the dirtier aspects of stay-at-home mommyhood… So this is my goal: to wake up each day, find a few moments to spend quietly in God’s Word, and to bathe and get dressed in clothes other people can see me in. If you happen to see me around town in a sweatsuit and no lipstick, smack me hard, quote this blog entry, and send me home.

This photo has nothing to do with the above paragraph (and yes, I did add it after posting the other stuff)… other than the fact that it makes me feel better about myself when I do go out in sweats and no makeup. Hee hee. (Thanks, Noon, for being so darn photogenic and for being such a good sport as to allow your meanie, blogging sister to show it to the world!)

In preparation for the weekly weekend blog drought, I wanted to leave something new on View from the Prairie Box. The question is: what to write? Doesn’t matter, says my opinionated internal blogger, just leave something! Everyday I have a ritual of websites to visit, most of which are blogs. And everyday I’m just a little bummed out when a blogger hasn’t posted for days. So this particular post doesn’t have to be interesting or funny, fascinating or poignant… It just has to BE.

Upon digging through my iPhoto stash, I found something to share—so I actually do have something to write about. Sometime last week Sarah brought Calvin over and the kiddos both napped and lunched while us mamas also lunched (the nap would’ve been nice, but no). Livia, in her happiest of positions, stretched out on my legs, was being poked and prodded for the camera: “Smile for Mama, Livia! Come on, babe! Smile for Mama!” No smile. Not for Mama and certainly not for the camera two inches from her face. Someone was smiling, however. Calvin, in all his carrot-faced glory, gave multitudes of golden beams in my direction. Didn’t matter at all that I was asking a different little person for a grin!

Someday these little feet will be used for walking, jumping, dancing, running, swimming, kicking and jump-roping. But for now these new toes, only nine weeks in this world, are just kissed a lot by mom and dad.

A baby’s feet, like sea-shells pink,
Might tempt, should Heaven see meet,
An angel’s lips to kiss, we think,
A baby’s feet.

No flower-bells that expand and shrink
Gleam half so heavenly sweet
As shine on life’s untrodden brink
A baby’s feet.

– Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909)

In an attempt to write about something other than my fascinating baby, I will now turn the discussion to gardening. The garden has been somewhat neglected for the sake of said baby—it’s awfully mean to subject her to 90+ degree heat and hungry mosquitoes—but fortunately we’re at the stage of garden growth where little is required of me. I am reminded why my backyard looks incredibly barren in the winter as our little patch of fruits looks amazingly like a jungle right now. One zucchinni plant is so enormous it can’t even stand upright any longer and the cucumber vines are planning a garden coup d’etat; really, I fear for the safety of our beefy tomatoes. The first Romas were plucked yesterday. They don’t look the greatest, as the “zipper” effect shows, but I’m sure they’ll taste just fine. We’ve been enjoying fresh zucchini and cucumbers for a couple of weeks now. There’s just nothing better than fresh cucumbers and Ranch dressing to accompany a meal.

In the foreground of the second photo you’ll notice a sunflower… This one grew from some birdseed that fell to the ground. In the background you can see another one in the form of Jack’s beanstalk. Last year I grew one of these gargantuan flowers; this year we have two. The bold cucumbers are attempting to overthrow Sunflower #1 as well. Sunflower #1 simply scoffs and continues to demonstrate his skyscraping abilities. We have yet to see the actual flower heads on these mammoths, but they’ll show up before long.

Please don’t tell me that this is an actual CNN.com headline:

“Schwarzenegger’s ‘girlie men’ line under fire”

This is news? According to the article, some Democrats are protesting the comment as “sexist and homophobic.” Oh no… Someone shoot me now. Actually, I wasn’t aware that these lawmakers have the ability to claim what a homosexual does and doesn’t think about a particular choice of words!! How exasperating. Poor journalist who had to cover this story… I think of my dear friend Haley Wachdorf and know that usually such professionals don’t choose their topics!

Call it the tragedy of the century in television programming: Freaks and Geeks lasted only one season. Apparently, Jeremy and I caught most of its 18 episodes when it aired in 1999 and 2000 while we were at seminary. But we’ve been enjoying it again, in all it’s DVD glory, over the past week. It’s one of the best programs ever… The characters are delightfully rich. Where the writers could have stopped at caricaturing Freaks and Geeks, they chose instead to give each one depth — and thus the beauty of this show. My favorite? Bill. If anyone knows what he’s been doing since Freaks and Geeks, let me know. Favorite scene? Sam and his Parisian nightsuit. Someone give the kid an Emmy for that performance!

Band of Brothers is the other DVD series we’re knee-deep in. Having watched it once before and having read Stephen Ambrose’s book, I understand the manueverings of war much better now. This HBO creation is simply outstanding and I highly recommend watching it at some point in your life. It’s television like this that actually makes me wish I was teaching again… History brought to life with such realism and interest. I hope the men of E Company were honored by this depiction of World War II.