Underground Bookclub Satellites

I'm always astonished at the interest in our little bookclub, everytime I post.  We just have so much fun, and I wish there was a way to share that with more people.  However, the club has reached maximum capacity, so we can't add any more bodies...BUT if you are interested in forming your own satellite UBC, that would be a great way to start a gathering that may take off into another sort of bookclub!

Here's our format:
As the founder, I assign everyone a month to host the club.  We have to work around pregnancies, calving, lambing, planting, school teacher schedules, and Bobby Burns night (the Scottish national holiday).  We picked the second Thursday of the month to meet at the house of the host, and it is potluck.  The hostess is in charge of lining out the potluck, and that is one of the funniest aspects of the group! I've had clubbers say they can't come up with enough things for people to bring....are you kidding me?!!! Bring food!!! Armloads! My biggest problem is the cutoff on menus, but apparently some people have a hard time assigning. 

The only people allowed to come are the members themselves, and a nursing child, if they have one.  If your kids are weaned, they stay home. The end of discussion.  This precedent was established early in UBC, and is one of the reasons we have people who will drag themselves to the group, with infected teeth, labor pains and broken bones.  It's truly a retreat for us women.  (We have had one author, as a guest, which was quite entertaining, and one mother-in-law as a guest, and I missed that one so I can't comment one way or the other...but guests are rare and apparently must be from out of state or published, and the author was the only male ever to break into the inner circle.  That was a sort of big thing. The husbands don't know what we talk about or what we do, but they know it involves food, and they know if we miss bookclub that the rest of the month will be nearly intolerable in their home. They make sure we get there, and don't ask questions when we return.)

Because we live 25-50 miles from each other, we often carpool, which ends up being an extension of UBC! We have pre and post- club discussions.  Free therapy.  And sometimes we sample the food on our laps, purely to determine the quality and worthiness of the dish for the exalted members. Of course. We have, in emergency instances, met at the local cafe in the backroom, but it's very hard to be Underground that way.  And we aren't nearly as candid, because the walls have ears, don't you know?

So, if you want to join us, virtually, check on my blog for the report every second Friday of the month for the new selection, and if you are doing a satellite group, please let me know and we can link together! 

Karen's Choice

The Underground Bookclub met again last night, after a summer hiatus. We always agree, in April or May that we should take the summer off, but by the end of June, are groaning and wishing we had bookclub to run to. It makes returning in September very sweet, though.

Karen chose the summer book for us: Sophie's Choice. It was a rough read for some, and others just didn't get it read for personal reasons or because they got the wrong book and then were unable to get the right book from their friend who forgot to leave it at the Cohagen Post office, or something like that....
It was a great discussion. We have such interesting, intelligent women with varied backgrounds and stages of life, so you just never know what will come up or be examined. I always leave bookclub thinking, "Well, drats. Now I have to re-read that part!"

Anyway, if you had been sitting outside the window, looking in last night, you would've shaken your head in disbelief. We were all just so happy to be there, and so relaxed, that 8 women talked, laughed, ate, laughed, ate, talked, and so forth, for about three hours. And when you go to Karen's, pretty much all you get accomplished is eating, because the woman is a consummate hostess, and there's stupendous food in every room. (I didn't make it to the bathroom, but I wouldn't have been surprised to find a little covered dish of chocolate truffles there. Come to think of it, those little pregnant bookclubbers spent an inordinate amount of time in the loo. Hmmm...)

Here's the menu breakdown:

Appetizers: Sheepherder's Hors' Doerves (saltine crackers, onion, cheddar cheese and orange slices...it is REALLY GOOD, and hails from Ingomar's Jersey Lily) and some really divine melba toast, cream cheese, sliced pork and sweet/sour horseradish sauce. And that was in the living room. With wine and hand squoze lemonade. I could've just stopped there and been content.

Main Dish: Chicken enchiladas, in corn or flour tortillas, with homemade guacamole, salsa, sour cream and fresh tomatos to top it with.

Sides: Scallopy sort of potatoes, a bean/shrimp salad, and fruit salad.

Dessert: Banana splits, with the works, and Kafe Utza coffee.

By the time we got done eating and laughing and talking, I actually ached, and it almost hurt to drive home. Now THAT'S a successful evening!

Our next book selection, for those that are following along in satellite bookclubs, is Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, by Lisa See. (Beth chooses a book, then in the same breath changes her mind. But I believe this was the final choice.)

What happened after the bus left....

Rather like Paul Harvey's Rest of the Story...

My day went something like this:

1. Maggie on the bus! Wait until the bus goes over the hill, then drive that same direction to go to PopPop's house to pick up the Boy. (Didn't want Mr. Kluck to think I was following him, checking on his speed and safety procedures....even though the thought HAD occured to me.)
2. Ranch meeting in the entry of PopPop's house, with the outcome being a vaccine/calf creep/hydraulic hose trip to Jordan. After I get my hair and make-up done. And could I do that in about 45 minutes, if it isn't too much trouble?
3. After minimal primping, load the Boy up and make an Agricultural tour of the little hometown burg, 23 miles away.
4. Back to PopPop's house to deliver the watermelon cookies (I know, ew!) that Angus picked out for his granddad, and to phone in the vet supplies that weren't on the list and that I had miscounted on. Drats.
5. Lunch with the Farmer and his son. This was eventful, as the young man who bought the cookies thought he should stay with PopPop for lunch, and was transported, kicking and screaming, to his own table. It was not pretty. We had leftover pizza and spanish rice and cucumbers, since I didn't get home in time to make a fresh lunch.
6. Angus went down for a nap; I posted the blog.
7. Wake the boy up, kicking and screaming, to meet the bus.
8. Many hugs, kisses, milk and cookies and the report on Kindergarten!
9. I'll spare you the rest of the evening....

Maggie's day, from what I can tell, went something like this:

1. Ride the bus to school, and get off, wondering what to do.
2. Got help settling in, from one of the older girls...quite impressive.
3. This middle part is a little blurry, and we keep getting details as the day goes on. I think they did something with the letter L, and she says Mr. L has a squeaky voice in his song. Hmm. And they played a letter game and Billy Baker cried, but there's no crying allowed in school, and that's really strange, but then they did some other fun things and Billy Baker was better. (Not sure about this part, and that may be total fabrication, but that was the report.)
4. Ate lunch. Not really. But ate all the vegetables, and most of the cookies. There's no sharing food allowed in school, and that's really strange, but then they played the "Mashed Potato" game where the ball was hot, only it wasn't really hot, it was just pretend hot, but it burned her right there...see?
5. "I didn't take a nap" "But I rested, but I missed my family just so much."
6. Ate a snack. Out of the lunchbox. At the table.
7. The bus came and she left. But had to go back and get her packpack. And got on the bus. And the big girl brought her her lunchbox. And coat. (Which she left on the bus, by the way...got THAT call from Mr. Kluck this morning.)
8. Came home and had milk and cookies with Mom and Angus, who she really, really missed so much.
9. Went for a tractor ride with Daddy and then PopPops, to report on her day.

I'm sure there's more, but like I say, we are getting it in bits and pieces! Her day sounds infinitely more interesting than mine! I called Grandma Celestia, to see how HER day went, and the dear woman was still upright and sober, so we consider that a success! We'll see how Thursday goes. (I am to put soup in her little container, for that day, and also provide cheese and crackers and more cookies. We'll see.)

Maggie and Angus have been getting along like children I've never met, today, and they are playing big games outside, cooperatively. And no-one was up before 6:30, this morning. No one.

And today, the bus came and took my baby to school...

We've been preparing for this day since July.





"Now, I'm FIVE. Now, I can go to school, right, Mom?"

"Yes, baby, you will go to school this fall! Just two more months."

"How many days is that? A hundred?"

"No, about 60 days until you go to school. It's coming..."

And so the dialogue went, the numbers changing as we got closer.


We bought the backpack about 2 1/2 weeks ago, and the first morning after the UPS driver brought it to us, she came into our room to wake us up.

"Do you want to climb in, sweetie, for a snuggle?"

"Just let me take off my packpack, first."


Then we got the supplies for school. Pencils, markers, erasers, glittery pencil bag, princess folders, colored pencils, and, (best of all) a little thermos that looks like a crayon, with a lid that doubles as a cup. All these were carefully inventoried and stashed in the treasured backpack. Her brother had serious pack envy, and although Daddy tried to give him one from the garden shed, it was a dismal attempt, compared to the glossy lavender pack with the name "Maggie" emblazoned on the back.


She wanted to use my lunchbox, from when I was in school, and declined getting one of her own, which rather surprised me. We examined the box, checked the latch, and determined it was worthy. Then we started planning lunch menus. (A little note here: when a girl believes herself to be princess, she will request royal lunches. Tricky, when the Queen Mum has a trailer-house budget...)

The wardrobe was rather dicey, as well. You see, when you go to a country school, the best thing you can wear is good jeans, a nice tshirt, and sturdy shoes. That's not all that glamorous, and it took some talking on my part, to get her to submit to the dress code. The glitzy new boots helped.

Last night, I packed the royal lunch, we very carefully laid out the clothes, double-checked the supplies in the pack, rolled her bedroll up, packaged cookies for her bus driver, read "The Kissing Hand" and packed it, bathed WITH SOAP (that's big), and she wiggled her way through a couple of stories and her prayers. When I came back into the room, after getting her drink, she told me, very solemnly, that she would miss me, but that she'd write a letter to me, and promised to come home and have milk and cookies, and discuss her adventures. Then I turned out the light, checked my email with a big lump in my throat, and went to take a shower and cry for about 20 minutes. Wayland thought I had completely lost it.

This morning, I tiptoed out to make coffee and (yes, you know it's coming) have quiet time, only to be met by HRH in the kitchen. It was 5:30 a.m.

"Is it morning, yet, Momma?"
"Sort of...yes."
"I ride the bus, today!"
"After I've had coffee, child, after I've had coffee..."
"YES!"
"Why don't you take your cat back to your room and.....play something."
Skippety-skippety-skippety-skip! (She's obviously having a hard time leaving the nest, and I admire how she tries to protect me from all that drama. Don't you think?)

Which brings us to the pictures.

The only thing her heart has desired, for two months, has been to ride on the bus. She sees it as a symbol of growing up, I guess, and certain freedom. And she LOVES her bus driver, who by the way, is an ordained minister. Now, how cool is that, I ask you? Her teacher is her adopted grandmother, and her bus driver is a minister, AND she's got her very best buddies as co-kinders.

Here comes the bus!

No worries about traffic, here....

Around the bus....so fast it's almost a blur!

See the nifty thermos? Full of chocolate milk...mmmm.

Here's Mr. Kluck, pleased with his cookies. Maggie didn't even pause; she was on her way to find the seat and make friends. No tears, no clinging, no whining. And Maggie handled it well, too.

Shelf Life

I'm posting this so you know how truly crazy we are about books, in the Farmer's Homestead. We've actually talked about building a room like these, to house our growing library. You've never seen two bigger nerds, than us, when we get to bookstores! We love the smell, the feel, the sound, the colors of books, and honestly, I think we need to look into a 12 Step Program for people who love books too much. Really, the only thing missing in these pictures are huge, comfy chairs, an espresso bar, and a big old table on which to spread all the tomes and refreshments, and a couple of cats.

What do you think?
Crazy?

Or, do you want to come over, when we build the room, and spend a week or so...