Hunger Games. . .Not

I know it may seem like the popular thing to do, but I cannot help but weigh in on the Hunger Games. My daughter, the middle school teacher, bought the book and began reading it to me on the two hour drive between Jefferson City (where my dad has been newly installed into a nursing home) and our home in Lee's Summit (food for another blog). After about a chapter, I made her stop. I couldn't take it. Children selected at random for "games" that seem nothing short of the days of gladiators. . .a dystopian future, destroyed by nuclear or some other kind of war, where the US is carved into districts and Denver. . .repeat. . .Denver is the capital? Enough already. I hated it. I know. Everyone, including my daughter, and my 50 year old brother, LOVE the book. I did not. I am not much on futuristic fiction anyway. . .the future is scaring enough without authors imagining how it will be. . .I prefer my fiction murderous, cozy, and in the past.

Exhausted AGAIN

It's March 22. As the parking garage attendant reminded me today, "miss, it's not the 21st. . .that was yesterday. The first day of spring." Wow. Of course, the nice lady at the National Council for History Education who handed me a free parking pass is to blame. . .it said March 21st. But, really, the whole experience is sort of a metaphor for my life. Seriously. I am SO tired and so busy. How could spring have gotten here? It's completely lovely in KC this year. The redbud and dogwood are in bloom, already. It's at least a month too early. But, it's lovely. The grass is a foot high. And, there's dad's yard. . .the conference. . .school. . .grading. . .housework. . .Legacy job. Park classes. WW classes. Even looking at the list wears me out. I CANNOT wait for spring break!