This one.

But, hey, it was my favorite dress and apparently all the rage in amusement-park fashion.

I remember waiting in lines and a “ride” that looked like a giant tree. (If I’d been back since then, I might actually know what some of these things are called.) I remember eating in a real restaurant, one that served shrimp. I remember the haunted-house ride that made it look like the person in the middle seat was a ghost. I was the ghost. I remember going through the It’s a Small World ride more than once at the end of the day.

I left that place with magic dust in my eyes and the desire to believe fairy tales.

Ah, yes. Fairy tales.

I’ve always known certain things in my head about my family, but I made up a fairy tale for my heart. This is a family with an abusive father (my grandfather), who tormented and tortured his children and then all but forgot them when he left them behind. While he was abusive to his own children, he never laid a hand on his grandchildren (as far as I know) or great-grandchildren, but they lived with the effects of his abuse every day.

You see, I knew the truth of the secrets that lurk just below the surface of a six-pack or two — abandonment and abuse of every kind. I knew the truth of addiction — whether it was to alcohol, drugs, food or religion — and the continuing cycle of abuse, whether it was inflicted on others or oneself.

But I wanted to believe my fairy tale. The one that said I was different. I had people who loved me, saw the best in me and wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. Oh, how I wanted to believe that fairy tale. I did for many, many years. Because it was so much prettier than the truth.

The truth is, this is a family with sisters who haven’t seen each other in 20 years.

This is a family where you could say something wrong and be banished for life, without notice, leaving you to wonder just what you did wrong. If you ask, nobody knows. Or, even if they do know, they won’t say.

This is a family where a mother asked at the start of every telephone conversation with one of her daughters, “Are you still fat?”

This is a family with another father (my grandfather’s son) who disowned his own son, reclaimed him and then flipped him a big old bird from his grave, intentionally naming him in his will for the sole purpose of saying, in front of everyone, that his son gets nothing from his father.

I don’t understand intentional cruelty like that (fairy tale), and, yet, I do (head).

Ah, yes. Fairy tales.

I was the only one who believed my fairy tale. It was pretty and sparkly and sprinkled with magic dust. But now it’s time to put the storybook back on the shelf.

…

The princess has been kissed, and she’s awake now. Wide awake. For herself. For her children. For their children.

The Beginning

We just read Pinkalicious by sisters Victoria Kann & Elizabeth Kann. We enjoyed Goldilicious so much that we wanted to read this one, which was actually published first. Now, we’ll just have to get our hands on Purplicious, and our “licious” life will be complete.

We just read Listen to the Wind: The Story of Dr. Greg & Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and Susan L. Roth (who also did the collages).

It’s the children’s version of Three Cups of Tea, which I read two years ago. It tells the story of building a bridge and a school for the children of Korphe.

The story was very simple, so I had to answer questions about veils on girls and why they wear them and boys don’t. I also explained that girls in that part of the world often aren’t allowed to go to school.

The Pearson Foundation has a nice video of Mortenson and his daughter explaining the Pennies for Peace program, which was set up to educate children and give them a way to help.

He also has a “youth” version of his book and a song, featuring Jeni Fleming and his daughter, Amira.

Speaking of pennies, maybe we should send that fancy Lincoln bicentennial penny and the rest from my son’s money unit at school to Pennies for Peace. Eh?

I just finished reading Origin by Diana Abu-Jaber. What a great mystery and thriller! I read her book Crescent (enjoyed it very much), which had a completely different feel to it. Abu-Jaber is a wonderful writer. I love her descriptions.

Did you know there’s a Little House on the Prairie Cookbook? It’s called The Little House Cookbook: Frontier Foods from Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Classic Stories by Barbara M. Walker and illustrated by Garth Williams. This would be a great addition to our Little House library.

Anne-Marie Nichols wrote about it at her blog, This Mama Cooks! She has lots of great information, recipes and lists of other books and activities to celebrate reading in March.

We watched Elling last night. I’m trying to remember who recommended it, but it was someone on Twitter. Anyway. Great recommendation. It’s a Norwegian film directed by Petter Næss and based on Ingvar Ambjørnsen’s novel from 1996, Brødre i blodet (Blood Brothers). We enjoyed the movie. It was very funny at times, a bit sad at times but sweet and touching the whole time.

This.

Know what makes it taste even better?

This.

My son will be studying money at school again, and he’s supposed to bring four quarters, 10 dimes, 10 nickels and 25 pennies Monday. Wouldn’t you know it? I just took in a huge bag of coins to the bank the other day. The kids bought me a Wii remote for Valentine’s Day (totally their idea, I swear) and paid for it themselves. Only thing is, we bought it online, so I took their change and deposited it into their savings accounts.

So here I am fishing around the house and in the cars for all the change I can find, and I ran across this new penny. At first I thought it was Canadian or something. But, no. It’s ours. And I wondered when the heck they started doing weird stuff with pennies.

Turns out: last year, after almost 50 years of the same thing on the back of a penny. The back of the penny was redesigned to celebrate the bicentennial of Abraham Lincoln’s birth. This one is known as the “Indiana Penny” because it shows him “reading while taking a break from rail splitting” in Indiana.

Ah well. Learn something new every day.

Anyone have nickels? I’m still four short.

So I’m on page 13 of Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, thoroughly enjoying myself and the way she writes, thinking, “Hey, I really like this author.” Can anyone tell me why I’ve never read her before? Ah well. At least now I know what I was missing.