FreshMD

A waterbed covered with flannel

I just came across the most accurate description of the postpartum belly I've ever read, and it wasn't in a medical text. Perhaps you should read this only if you've had a child; it's a bit much for the uninitiated.

People kept trying to prepare me for how soft and mushy my stomach would be after I gave birth, but I secretly thought, Not this old buckerina. I think most people undergoing chemo secretly believe they won't lose their hair.

Oh, but my stomach, she is like a waterbed covered with flannel now. When I lie on my side in bed, my stomach lies politely beside me, like a puppy.

- from Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year

I have a crush on Charley Harper

This is my current favourite children's book:

I ordered it for Ariana for Christmas. I postponed wrapping it for a week so I could look at it every night before bed. The images are that gorgeous and soothing. Now it resides in the little turquoise backpack Ariana uses to store and transport her prized possessions.

Charley Harper (1922-2007) was an American artist known for his geometric, stylized depictions of wildlife. He commented once that while some artists counted the feathers in the wings, he merely counted the number of wings. His images are simple, playful and brilliantly coloured.

Harper grew up on a farm in Cincinnati and enjoyed wildlife from an early age. I find stories of nature-loving children who grow up to become artists/naturalists immensely appealing. It seems so pure. And what better blend of art and science? (Robert Bateman's story is similarly pleasing - now there's someone who counts every feather in the wing.)

So now I'm trying to pick a print or two for our home. My job would be easier if the man weren't so remarkably prolific and talented. I will soldier on.

Doris Lessing

I'm half-way through Doris Lessing's The Golden Notebook, and my only complaint is that I can't discuss it with anyone, because I don't know anyone else who is reading the book. Or who has read it. Or who's heard of it. And this structurally and stylistically unusual book, clearly the product of a superb mind, begs to be shared.

Lessing, who was born of British parents in Persia, raised in Southern Rhodesia and has lived in England since 1949, won the Nobel Prize in Literature last year. At eighty-eight, she's the oldest winner, and one of only a handful of women.

The Golden Notebook, published in 1962, is considered her most important work. The novel addresses such themes as women's experiences, being an artist, communism and mental illness.

Time interviewed Lessing this week, and it's worth checking out. I find her frankness refreshing.

The Nobel committee described you as the "epicist of the female experience." Do you agree with that?

Well, they had to say something.

But do you agree with it?

No. I can just see somebody sitting there thinking, "What the hell are we going to say about this one? She doesn't like being called a feminist so what'll we say?" So they scribbled that.

Watch this little video of Lessing's reaction to news of her Nobel Prize win and tell me you don't love her.

The scores on the Amazon reviews are scattered almost evenly from one to five stars. The unimpressed reviewers describe The Golden Notebook as a boring, self-indulgent, depressing and extremely long read. Those who gave it four or five stars hailed it as brilliant and life-changing.

When I pick up the book while sitting down for lunch with the kids, I'm too engrossed to refill the milk glasses the first time I'm asked, but it's not exactly lazy beach reading. I plan to finish and review the (635-page) book in about four weeks.

Consider picking it up yourself, and sharing your thoughts when I post on it next month. A sort of FreshMD book club.

The Architecture of Happiness

Taking architecture seriously . . . requires that we open ourselves to the idea that we are affected by our surroundings even when they are made of vinyl and would be expensive and time-consuming to ameliorate. It means conceding that we are inconveniently vulnerable to the colour of our wallpaper and that our sense of purpose may be derailed by an unfortunate bedspread.

I just finished The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton. It's a short, essayistic book examining how we determine which architecture is beautiful, and why aesthetic preferences vary between people and over time.

Buildings interest me, as does happiness, plus I wanted something to back up my request for an office with windows at work. So when I came across this title a year or two ago, I included it in my annual Amazon book spree. I can't remember any more who to thank for the recommendation, although for the first third of the book I was looking for someone to blame.

The book is not a light read. It's packed with ideas, it makes you think, and if you want to unwind after a day of challenging patients or children, pass this one over. I wondered a few times if English was de Botton's first language, because at times he uses it in such a wordy, complicated way that I had to reread the sentence three times to grasp the concept. Of course, the problem could be mine.

But if you pick up the book when you are feeling fresh and focused, and work on getting through it over the course of a week, it's a great read. What I loved about The Architecture of Happiness was that it is full of fascinating concepts applicable to our daily interactions with buildings.

Flower Fairies

Illustrations by Cicely Mary Barker

I've been looking for an alternative to the slutty princess market that's been trying for years to foist itself on my six-year-old daughter. These beautiful, botanically-correct flower fairies by Cicely Mary Barker (1895 - 1973), an English illustrator, satisfy us both.

Larry Schweiger of the National Wildlife Federation wrote in this editorial, "Our children are disconnecting with nature . . . By the time they are seven years old, most youngsters have been exposed to more than 20,000 advertisements. They can identify 200 corporate logos, but they cannot identify the trees growing in their front yards."

We're working on rectifying that, and Barker's books of illustrations are a very pleasant way to begin.