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Book Club: Olive Kitteridge By Elizabeth Strout

Gush, gush, gush, gush, gush! I LOVED this book. Go read it, now!

Okay, now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I’ll tell you a little about it: Olive Kitteridge is a retired schoolteacher in her early seventies living in the small coastal town of Crosby, Maine. She is sometimes harsh and sarcastic, sometimes witty, sometimes feisty and possessive, sometimes strangely compassionate and intuitive. She is deeply flawed, and yet I loved her.

Each chapter in this novel is a story unto itself. In many of them, Olive is the main character, but in some she just passes through, or is briefly mentioned. We learn about her husband Henry and her grown son Christopher, as well as a host of other townspeople. There wasn’t a single story that I didn’t like. I must have marked a dozen passages that I want to go back and read over and over again because they are so perfectly described, so poignant, so true, so inspiring.

This book is supremely well-written. It’s easy to see how it won the Pulitzer Prize. I didn’t breeze through it, but took the entire month to read it. After each story I wanted to decompress, to take it all in. The main thing I liked about it was that it made me appreciate life. It made me not want to take anything for granted, which seems to be a theme with me lately. I kind of feel like I’m an elderly person stuck in a 27-year-old body, for all the premature nostalgia I experience on a daily basis.

Five out of five stars, no question. I’d like to read it again someday.

***

Next month’s book will be The Guernsey Literary Potato Peel and Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer. As always, you’re welcome to read along!

November 9, 2009
#47. Go To Another Dynamo Game

The Dynamo are Houston’s major league soccer team. I know most of you are probably like, “Who cares?” and that’s fine. If you were writing about, say, water polo, I would have the same reaction. But I love soccer. I have played it since I was seven years old, and I pretty much lived and breathed it from the time I was in junior high through college. I’ve been playing on adult teams since then, but because of my schedule I can now only play during the summers. So I consider it my duty to support our pro team.

I was so excited when my parents told me they had an extra ticket to today’s game! It’s the first round of the playoffs, it would be a fun chance to hang out with my family, and it was free! We had great seats that enabled us to see the whole field well, with the bonus of a nice view of the Houston skyline.

A sea of orange!

It also gave me a chance to wear the super cute Dynamo jersey I own.

My mom, me, and brother David. My husband’s not really into soccer, unless I’m playing. :)

I tell you what, there is nothing quite like soccer fans. They are wild and tireless. There was a small section of Seattle fans right across the aisle from us, and every time our goalkeeper took a goal kick they would shout, “You suck, a**hole!” It didn’t take our fans long to catch on, and every subsequent time they would repeat the phrase, but directed at the Seattle section. I was thinking to myself how tacky the opposing teams fans were, until I realized that every time Seattle’s goalkeeper took a goal kick we were shouting this which, if you grow up playing soccer in south Texas, you learn is Spanish for something not very nice at all. I can’t even bring myself to type it, because I try to keep things family friendly around here. So apparently it’s just vehement hate on both sides.

Enjoying the game

But guess what? We won! 1-0 in overtime. My husband says soccer hasn’t caught on in America because there’s not enough scoring. But I say that the entire game is exciting even without the goals. You will rarely see The Wave being started at a soccer game, because The Wave is a sign of boredom. (And for the record, I detest The Wave, and yet find it strangely fascinating.)

Celebration at the end of the game

Seeing soccer made me so nostalgic for it. There’s just something about lacing up your cleats, stepping onto the grass, and having that whole field in front of you. The feel of the ball at your feet, and coming together as a team. I’m lucky I still get to play at all, but I miss the competitive days of my youth where I could play three full games during a summer tournament and wake up for another the next day. My body would revolt if I tried that now.

At least I can still be a fan!

November 8, 2009
Breakfast Casserole

I’ve been craving a breakfast casserole all week long, because I’m high class like that. I decided to make one for our dinner exchange tonight, with a fruit salad side. I didn’t have a recipe, so I searched and searched. I ended up combining a few of the ones I found, and it turned out pretty well. Next time I’ll probably use less hash browns and sausage and more eggs.

Ingredients:

1 (2-pound) bag frozen hash browns, thawed
1 pound pork sausage
2 slices cooked ham, diced
6 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/8 teaspoon garlic powder
salt and pepper to taste
12 ounces shredded cheddar cheese

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 13×9 inch baking dish. Place the hash brown potatoes in the bottom of the baking dish.

This already takes up half of the dish. Like I said, next time I’ll use less potatoes.

2. Heat a skillet over medium heat and cook and stir the sausage until the it is crumbly, evenly browned, and no longer pink; drain. (If your husband likes onion this would be the time to cook a small diced onion along with the meat. Also, I decided to include some diced ham, because we had some on hand.)

Mmm, meat. A lot of it. Too much, actually, but oh well.

3. Meanwhile, whisk together the eggs, milk, onion powder, garlic powder, salt, and pepper, and pour over the potatoes. Layer with half the Cheddar cheese, the sausage mixture, and the remaining Cheddar cheese. Cover with aluminum foil.

That is a lot of cheese, my friends. Just how I like it.

4. Bake in the preheated oven for 1 hour. Remove cover; return casserole to the oven and bake until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean, about 10 minutes. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving.

Forgot to take a picture of the finished product until after we had already eaten. We just couldn’t wait!

This was definitely good, but I’m not ready to declare my undying love for it. There was so much meat and potatoes that I could hardly taste the egg. I’d like to try it with some modifications, but if you’ve got a tried and true recipe for a breakfast casserole, I’d love for you to share.

November 7, 2009
My Self-Conscious Friday

I used to hate driving to work, but now that I’ve started making coffee at home and drinking it before the drive, I’m coming to enjoy the 40 minutes to myself (probably because I no longer fear that I will fall asleep and die). I was sleepy when I woke up this morning, but that made the coffee taste even better. I got in my car with my mug in hand and my favorite U2 song queued up, “Stuck In A Moment”. I was just coming back to work from two days off and looking forward to the weekend off too. I was ready for it to be a good day.

But since I don’t have a travel mug, I immediately dribbled some coffee on my cute pink scrubs. It was only a little bit, and it’s not blatantly noticeable, but it still makes me self-conscious. No big deal, I thought. No one will notice.

I got to work a tad late, and took my seat in the conference room where we listen to report. My mentor said hello and then looked at my hands with a confused expression. After report she approached me and said, “So what’s with the nail polish? Is it black?”

“No, it’s purple,” I replied. I want to say that I rarely–and I mean almost NEVER–paint my nails. I don’t like dealing with the polish chipping off, which it seems to do after only a few days. When I do paint my nails, it’s either clear or a light, neutral color. But all day yesterday I had the urge to try a dark color. I had some deep purple lying around left over from friend’s wedding. Finally I gave in, and it’s been weirding me out ever since. I kind of like it, but it’s totally not ME. I thought about taking it off, but I wanted to try and be bold and branch out a little anyway.

“I’ve gotta say, it looks really unprofessional,” said my mentor, and then she patted me on the shoulder and walked away. I flushed. I know a lot of people wouldn’t agree, but she’s probably right. Technically we’re allowed to wear polish if it’s intact, but it’s a harbor for germs if it starts chipping. Also, I really respect my mentor and want to please her. I tried to wipe it off with alcohol swabs, but that didn’t work. I’ll just remove it tonight.

So after I obsessed about the nail polish a little bit, I moved on and was just going about my business. Out of nowhere one of my coworkers said to me, “Kathleen it looks like you’re gaining some weight! What’s going on there?”

I flushed again. “I haven’t gained weight, it must be the pink scrubs I have on today.”

“But I noticed it the other day in the teal color too. I mean it doesn’t look BAD, I’m just used to you being really skinny.”

I mean, come ON. Don’t you think women should know to never say that to another woman, even if it’s true? And for the record, I HAVEN’T gained weight. I checked. I’ve actually been eating a bit healthier lately, and exercising more regularly. Maybe my fat is just rearranging itself, I don’t know.

I think I have a fairly healthy view of myself, so I’m not distraught over these petty comments. But one after another, they don’t help improve my day. At this point, I’m just ready for 7 p.m. to get here so I can go home and be hugged by my husband.

November 6, 2009
A Good Night’s Sleep

Since I worked so late on Tuesday I didn’t get to sleep until many hours later than my usual bedtime. The consequence of such a circumstance is that I found myself reaching for my sleep mask when it started getting light in the morning, and didn’t wake up until around 11 a.m. Then I felt fuzzy around the edges all day long. That was yesterday.

After getting a lot of nothing accomplished during the day, David and I went to church because we help lead the youth group. On our way home I was feeling a little sleepy again. David rolled his eyes and told me, “I feel bad for you when you get home after a 16-hour shift, but not after you slept in until 11 and had the whole day off.” I tried to explain to him how I thrive on routine and one whacked out sleep cycle ruins me for the next few days, but he wasn’t buying it. I figured I’d crawl in bed when I got home.

But when I got home something of a second wind came upon me, which isn’t that surprising considering I had only been awake for ten hours. For one reason or another (mostly my schedule) David and I don’t get a lot of chances to just unwind and relax together in the evenings, so I decided to take advantage of this chance. I changed into my lounge pants (that I had only taken off a few hours earlier), settled myself on the couch near David, and we enjoyed a comfortable silence while he worked on his computer and I browsed on mine.

After a little while he put on a movie. I wasn’t really interested in it, so I didn’t pay much attention. But after a short amount of time I noticed him nodding off out of the corner of my eye. I love it when I catch him falling asleep. I can tell the exact moment it happens by the change in his breathing. There is something so sweet and vulnerable about him during those times, and it makes me want to grab onto him and never let go.

While I was thinking these thoughts a sudden little snore escaped him, and he immediately sat up straight, looked right at me, and smiled sheepishly. We both laughed, and my heart swelled with so much love that I thought it would burst. Then we put away our things, brushed our teeth, and crawled into bed, together, to fall asleep, together, a rare treat. I laid down next to him and he said, “Closer” and I moved closer. Cleo burrowed herself underneath the blankets and stretched out next to me on the other side, pushing me into him. We slept like that, the three of us, all night long.

November 5, 2009