I was helping the sweet girl brush her lower teeth tonight when I noticed again that the gap between her left lower front tooth and the tooth next to it seemed wider than usual. That had come to my attention yesterday, but I figured I was tired enough to think I was imagining things. Tonight it really grabbed my attention so I gently poked my finger in her mouth, suddenly alarmed because it looked as though one of her teeth was slightly misplaced, pushing into the tooth next to it.
She's been so incredibly active lately, with a major burst of physical energy and a sudden desire to run and climb all over everything. I wondered, could she maybe have bumped her tooth hard enough to push it closer to the one next to it? But I don't think so. I think my little girl just has a plain old loose tooth. Her first.
Is this early? She's still 2 and 1/2 months from her sixth birthday, and I can't remember when I lost my first tooth, though I think I was probably around six. (I recall it came out when I bit down on a twinkie!)
Ironically, we'd just been talking about loose teeth a couple of days ago. We were reading the second chapter of Betsy-Tacy (yes, we're reading it again...S. doesn't remember it very well from last summer) and a little boy named Tom was described as speaking with a lisp because of a missing tooth. The sweet girl wanted to know what a lisp was, and we had an interesting discussion. Good timing apparently!
But may I confess something? I'm just not feeling quite ready for this. It's not the wiggly little tooth itself, but the milestone aspect of it. She's my one and only kiddo, and it seems like just yesterday she was cutting teeth, and we were proudly counting up how many teeth she had.
I love having an almost six year old, I really do. But tonight (already struggling as I am with some discouragement and sadness over some completely unrelated things) just for a little while, I need to let myself be sad that baby days in our household are truly over.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
Poetry Month: Wendell Berry
It's funny that I found and posted the "poem in your pocket" idea, as I've been contemplating trying to do some other posts here in honor of National Poetry Month.
What I've decided to do is to share a few of my very favorite poems -- the ones that I've read and go back to reading time and again, because they touch me deeply.
I thought I'd start today with Wendell Berry's The Peace of Wild Things. You can find this poem many places online, including at the Poetry Foundation.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Wendell Berry, "The Peace of Wild Things" from The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry. Copyright © 1998.
I love this poem. I keep a copy of it on the side of my refrigerator, near enough so I can look up and read it while I'm chopping vegetables or stirring up batter.
Almost every spare line of this poem speaks to me. I think because it starts with an emotion that is so familiar to all of us, no matter how comfortable and joy-filled our lives are on so many levels. We all know the taste of despair: despair over our own ongoing daily brokenness and failures, even when we've been grasped and saved by grace, and despair over the large-scale fallenness and sufferings of the world. And we've all certainly had nights we can't sleep, when anxiety seems to well up out of the void and keeps us wide-eyed and fully awake.
I remember being moved by the line in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be even before I had children, but how much more achingly real that felt after becoming a mother. Especially in that first year or two of your child's life, when on the wakeful nights you still creep to their rooms in awe and gratitude over the magnitude of the gift you've been given, and yet realize how fragile (as well as amazing) that little life still feels. The nights you watch them breathe (partly to assure yourself they're still breathing) and see the way they fling their limbs in complete abandon. They look so vulnerable with their cheeks creased by sleep and their touseled, sweaty hair, and sometimes you can't help but wonder about the future -- your's but especially their's.
As beautiful as this poem is in its opening lines, I think it turns smoothly, like a bird settling into an air current after take-off, and strokes powerfully forward with the movement of the speaker from inside to outside. He goes to lie down outdoors, to move into the peace of wild things/who do not tax their lives with forethought/of grief. What's powerful here, what settles with weight into my throat as I read it, is that implicit contrast. The speaker is awake, is alive with worry, with hope, with wonderings and fears and questions, projecting into an unknown future, while all around him are parts of creation that can't do that, that don't do that, that simply are. They exist, they live fully in the present, they do what birds and water and stars are supposed to do by flying and lapping and shining, and that is their life and their praise. They have no forethought of grief. But we do. And that's painful, a hugely painful part of being human...and yet, even as I settle with the speaker into the temporary and welcome relief of the peace of wild things, I don't think I would give up the forethought of grief permanently if I could. If we have forethought of grief, we also have anticipation, forethought of joy. And the sweet, blessed relief of seeing grief abate or suffering averted, or -- maybe even more deeply -- knowing the moments of grace and peace right in the midst of suffering, as we share in it and as God shares in it with us.
The poet knows the peace of wild things is temporary too. He feels the day-blind stars waiting with their light above him...stars that constantly shine but whose light is hidden to us during daylight. But he takes comfort, I think, that the stars are there, and comfort too in anticipating that though his perspective means he will lose them with morning light, he also knows (with human forethought) that he will find them again with the coming of night. And that there are some sorts of light you can only fully appreciate and experience as they're set out against the dark.
So he rests in the grace of the world....for a time...knowing it's a temporary respite, and knowing that the sense of freedom it brings is also temporary. Yet necessary. We all need these moments of stillness and beauty and grace, where we move beyond ourselves and feel the blessings of God on the whole, beautiful earth. The grace of the world, glimpsed in pockets, in moments, is wonderful and refreshing. It can strengthen us for the journey. But it's just a tiny taste of the fountain of grace, and of the longer, more lasting rest into which we're going to be called one day, when our forethought of grief, and even grief itself, at last slips away, death swallowed up in life.
Wendell Berry has written so many beautiful poems, including others I go back to, but this one is the one I return to most. Its theme here reminds me a good bit of some of the poems by Mary Oliver in her book House of Light.
What I've decided to do is to share a few of my very favorite poems -- the ones that I've read and go back to reading time and again, because they touch me deeply.
I thought I'd start today with Wendell Berry's The Peace of Wild Things. You can find this poem many places online, including at the Poetry Foundation.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Wendell Berry, "The Peace of Wild Things" from The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry. Copyright © 1998.
I love this poem. I keep a copy of it on the side of my refrigerator, near enough so I can look up and read it while I'm chopping vegetables or stirring up batter.
Almost every spare line of this poem speaks to me. I think because it starts with an emotion that is so familiar to all of us, no matter how comfortable and joy-filled our lives are on so many levels. We all know the taste of despair: despair over our own ongoing daily brokenness and failures, even when we've been grasped and saved by grace, and despair over the large-scale fallenness and sufferings of the world. And we've all certainly had nights we can't sleep, when anxiety seems to well up out of the void and keeps us wide-eyed and fully awake.
I remember being moved by the line in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be even before I had children, but how much more achingly real that felt after becoming a mother. Especially in that first year or two of your child's life, when on the wakeful nights you still creep to their rooms in awe and gratitude over the magnitude of the gift you've been given, and yet realize how fragile (as well as amazing) that little life still feels. The nights you watch them breathe (partly to assure yourself they're still breathing) and see the way they fling their limbs in complete abandon. They look so vulnerable with their cheeks creased by sleep and their touseled, sweaty hair, and sometimes you can't help but wonder about the future -- your's but especially their's.
As beautiful as this poem is in its opening lines, I think it turns smoothly, like a bird settling into an air current after take-off, and strokes powerfully forward with the movement of the speaker from inside to outside. He goes to lie down outdoors, to move into the peace of wild things/who do not tax their lives with forethought/of grief. What's powerful here, what settles with weight into my throat as I read it, is that implicit contrast. The speaker is awake, is alive with worry, with hope, with wonderings and fears and questions, projecting into an unknown future, while all around him are parts of creation that can't do that, that don't do that, that simply are. They exist, they live fully in the present, they do what birds and water and stars are supposed to do by flying and lapping and shining, and that is their life and their praise. They have no forethought of grief. But we do. And that's painful, a hugely painful part of being human...and yet, even as I settle with the speaker into the temporary and welcome relief of the peace of wild things, I don't think I would give up the forethought of grief permanently if I could. If we have forethought of grief, we also have anticipation, forethought of joy. And the sweet, blessed relief of seeing grief abate or suffering averted, or -- maybe even more deeply -- knowing the moments of grace and peace right in the midst of suffering, as we share in it and as God shares in it with us.
The poet knows the peace of wild things is temporary too. He feels the day-blind stars waiting with their light above him...stars that constantly shine but whose light is hidden to us during daylight. But he takes comfort, I think, that the stars are there, and comfort too in anticipating that though his perspective means he will lose them with morning light, he also knows (with human forethought) that he will find them again with the coming of night. And that there are some sorts of light you can only fully appreciate and experience as they're set out against the dark.
So he rests in the grace of the world....for a time...knowing it's a temporary respite, and knowing that the sense of freedom it brings is also temporary. Yet necessary. We all need these moments of stillness and beauty and grace, where we move beyond ourselves and feel the blessings of God on the whole, beautiful earth. The grace of the world, glimpsed in pockets, in moments, is wonderful and refreshing. It can strengthen us for the journey. But it's just a tiny taste of the fountain of grace, and of the longer, more lasting rest into which we're going to be called one day, when our forethought of grief, and even grief itself, at last slips away, death swallowed up in life.
Wendell Berry has written so many beautiful poems, including others I go back to, but this one is the one I return to most. Its theme here reminds me a good bit of some of the poems by Mary Oliver in her book House of Light.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
"Poem in Your Pocket" Day is April 17!
How wonderful is this? April is national poetry month, and April 17th has been designated the first ever Poem in Your Pocket Day. Check out the website and see what you think! I've already found myself brainstorming about fun ways to celebrate...
Monday, April 07, 2008
Handwriting With Laughter
One reason I can't quite wrap my mind around the fact that it's April already (though thankfully temperatures outside are starting to provide evidence that it's really so!) is that it means we're rounding the corner and heading down the homestretch of our first homeschool year.
Having gotten almost an entire year under our belts, I'm letting myself chuckle a bit as I peruse catalogs and begin to place orders for books and supplies for next year. I still love reading over curriculum suggestions and planning what to use, but I feel much more realistic (in a good way) about what we might need and what might work for us and our particular learning/teaching styles.
I spent a lot of time poring over books and catalogs in the years before we officially started homeschooling. I read The Well-Trained Mind (at least major portions of it) long before the sweet girl was even born. I've put thought into educational philosophies and approaches and why we felt called to do this. That's all good, but after a while, one begins to realize that "ideals" (whether in books, curriculum catalogs, or fellow homeschoolers' blogs) are always going to look a bit different "on the ground" when you begin to try to work them out in actual practice with your actual five year old and in your actual family's home and life situation.
I had one of those humbling, practical moments last week that just made me laugh. We've been concentrating a lot on handwriting this year. I knew going into the K year that it would be a challenge for the sweet girl, whose fine motor skills have always lagged a bit. And I confess I was nervous about teaching the mechanics of handwriting. I could barely remember learning to write myself, and I was pretty sure I was clueless about how to teach someone else to do it.
We've been using Handwriting Without Tears, a program I highly recommend. We seemed to be the ideal candidates for it. I still remember the day we started the program -- and S. cried, because she found learning to hold a pencil the correct way so hard. How long ago that seems! I'm pretty sure those were the first and last tears connected with handwriting though. She loves it now; in fact, we do handwriting first thing each morning.
In the fall and early winter, we worked on writing numerals and learning correct formation of capital letters. In later winter and now into spring, we're working on formation of lowercase letters (we've done about 10-12 letters so far, and are learning about 2 new ones per week).
One thing I began realizing about three weeks ago is how much more enthusiastic the sweet girl's response to writing practice is when I give her something "real" to write. Sitting her down with a line of lowercase "t"s and "r"s isn't very exciting, but getting her to write HAPPY BIRTHDAY on her grandmother's card is. She kept showing how hard and happily she could work when given actual words or phrases to copy. We will still practice rows of letters, but for the past three weeks or so, I've been writing a phrase or a short sentence each day on her lined tablet, and she copies it. Most of the time, we're still writing everything in caps, but the rest will come when she's more confident of those lowercase letters.
For a while, we had no shortage of things to write: HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY! or TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING. Sometimes I write something quite mundane, like TODAY IS FRIDAY or THE SUN IS SHINING. But she's been wanting to branch out and learn to write other things, and she's been particularly taken with the idea of writing out some of the things she sees written in books, especially those books she's learning to read.
Great! I thought. We're beginning copy work! We're on our way to practicing the kinds of copy work I read about in homeschooling books, all those months and years ago. Copy work where you provide students with excellent writing examples, beautiful prose from stories, inspiring quotes, encouraging words from Scripture. I had borrowed the idea when I'd had her practice her capital G's at Christmas time, by writing "GLORY TO GOD!" and illustrating the page with angels.
There are books that actually provide lists of the kinds of things you can have your students write. Of course, most of those lists are for children at higher ages and skill levels. So...I knew I might need to get creative.
On Friday, S. brought out one of her favorite readers, which she has been enjoying for the past couple of weeks: P.D. Eastman's Are You My Mother? We decided that we would choose a sentence from that book for her to copy. Ah, our first copy work involving literature she loves to read, I thought, feeling a bit emotional as I thought of the inspiring beauty of this moment. "What sentence shall we choose?" I asked.
And yes...you guessed it. What she most wanted to write were the immortal words of baby bird: "YOU ARE A SNORT."
So that's what we did. Taking care, of course, to have a good discussion about quotation marks and what they mean and how to write them. With Mom taking care to have a good, hearty laugh (inwardly) about the way the practical and the ideal sometimes mesh in real life!
Having gotten almost an entire year under our belts, I'm letting myself chuckle a bit as I peruse catalogs and begin to place orders for books and supplies for next year. I still love reading over curriculum suggestions and planning what to use, but I feel much more realistic (in a good way) about what we might need and what might work for us and our particular learning/teaching styles.
I spent a lot of time poring over books and catalogs in the years before we officially started homeschooling. I read The Well-Trained Mind (at least major portions of it) long before the sweet girl was even born. I've put thought into educational philosophies and approaches and why we felt called to do this. That's all good, but after a while, one begins to realize that "ideals" (whether in books, curriculum catalogs, or fellow homeschoolers' blogs) are always going to look a bit different "on the ground" when you begin to try to work them out in actual practice with your actual five year old and in your actual family's home and life situation.
I had one of those humbling, practical moments last week that just made me laugh. We've been concentrating a lot on handwriting this year. I knew going into the K year that it would be a challenge for the sweet girl, whose fine motor skills have always lagged a bit. And I confess I was nervous about teaching the mechanics of handwriting. I could barely remember learning to write myself, and I was pretty sure I was clueless about how to teach someone else to do it.
We've been using Handwriting Without Tears, a program I highly recommend. We seemed to be the ideal candidates for it. I still remember the day we started the program -- and S. cried, because she found learning to hold a pencil the correct way so hard. How long ago that seems! I'm pretty sure those were the first and last tears connected with handwriting though. She loves it now; in fact, we do handwriting first thing each morning.
In the fall and early winter, we worked on writing numerals and learning correct formation of capital letters. In later winter and now into spring, we're working on formation of lowercase letters (we've done about 10-12 letters so far, and are learning about 2 new ones per week).
One thing I began realizing about three weeks ago is how much more enthusiastic the sweet girl's response to writing practice is when I give her something "real" to write. Sitting her down with a line of lowercase "t"s and "r"s isn't very exciting, but getting her to write HAPPY BIRTHDAY on her grandmother's card is. She kept showing how hard and happily she could work when given actual words or phrases to copy. We will still practice rows of letters, but for the past three weeks or so, I've been writing a phrase or a short sentence each day on her lined tablet, and she copies it. Most of the time, we're still writing everything in caps, but the rest will come when she's more confident of those lowercase letters.
For a while, we had no shortage of things to write: HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY! or TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING. Sometimes I write something quite mundane, like TODAY IS FRIDAY or THE SUN IS SHINING. But she's been wanting to branch out and learn to write other things, and she's been particularly taken with the idea of writing out some of the things she sees written in books, especially those books she's learning to read.
Great! I thought. We're beginning copy work! We're on our way to practicing the kinds of copy work I read about in homeschooling books, all those months and years ago. Copy work where you provide students with excellent writing examples, beautiful prose from stories, inspiring quotes, encouraging words from Scripture. I had borrowed the idea when I'd had her practice her capital G's at Christmas time, by writing "GLORY TO GOD!" and illustrating the page with angels.
There are books that actually provide lists of the kinds of things you can have your students write. Of course, most of those lists are for children at higher ages and skill levels. So...I knew I might need to get creative.
On Friday, S. brought out one of her favorite readers, which she has been enjoying for the past couple of weeks: P.D. Eastman's Are You My Mother? We decided that we would choose a sentence from that book for her to copy. Ah, our first copy work involving literature she loves to read, I thought, feeling a bit emotional as I thought of the inspiring beauty of this moment. "What sentence shall we choose?" I asked.
And yes...you guessed it. What she most wanted to write were the immortal words of baby bird: "YOU ARE A SNORT."
So that's what we did. Taking care, of course, to have a good discussion about quotation marks and what they mean and how to write them. With Mom taking care to have a good, hearty laugh (inwardly) about the way the practical and the ideal sometimes mesh in real life!
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
"If You Give a Mom A Muffin..."
I was on a homeschooling blog this morning and saw a link to a discussion board with this poem/parody. I think I'm still laughing. If you've ever been a Mom, known a Mom, or if know the series of Laura Numeroff books on which the poem is based, you'll laugh too.
Here it is:
If You Give A Mom A Muffin
(Based on "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" by Laura Numeroff)
If you give a Mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
The coffee will get spilled by her three year old.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she will find some dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do some laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over some snow boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan dinner for tonight.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She will look for her cookbook (101 Things to Make With a Pound of Hamburger).
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two year old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old.
While she is changing the two year old the phone will ring.
Her four year old will answer it and hang up.
She remembers that she wants to phone a friend to come for coffee on Friday.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
She will pour herself some.
And chances are......
If she has a cup of coffee......
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it
Author: Kathy Fictorie
Here it is:
If You Give A Mom A Muffin
(Based on "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" by Laura Numeroff)
If you give a Mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
The coffee will get spilled by her three year old.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she will find some dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do some laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over some snow boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan dinner for tonight.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She will look for her cookbook (101 Things to Make With a Pound of Hamburger).
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The checkbook is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two year old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old.
While she is changing the two year old the phone will ring.
Her four year old will answer it and hang up.
She remembers that she wants to phone a friend to come for coffee on Friday.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
She will pour herself some.
And chances are......
If she has a cup of coffee......
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it
Author: Kathy Fictorie
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Five Blocks, Five Nests
April! The sweet girl and I are spring detectives again, on the lookout for "clues to spring" whenever we take a walk.
It can sometimes be hard to spot clues in early spring, especially in the concrete and pavement environment we usually traverse. But yesterday provided us the wonderful discovery of five birds' nests within the five city blocks we walked to the post office. True, two or three of them at least were in the small gazebo park next to the post office (one of the few spots in town where we have a good clump of trees together) but it was exciting, nonetheless.
In fact, birds have suddenly appeared in great numbers, even in our little city. When I woke up yesterday, I could hear one (hear, not see) trilling a good morning song over and over. If I stood in one particular place in my kitchen, right under the skylight, it was like having front row seats concert seats. Later in the morning, during our school-time, a bird flew right up to our apartment windowsill and boldly peered in at us for a few seconds.
I'm excited because our small box from the Rainbow Resource Center arrived late yesterday. I had ordered a couple of craft projects and a math game from them, and while I was at it, I also ordered a good pair of child-sized binoculars. With the birds returning in great numbers and busily getting their spring building projects underway, I want to make sure we're good and ready to watch.
It can sometimes be hard to spot clues in early spring, especially in the concrete and pavement environment we usually traverse. But yesterday provided us the wonderful discovery of five birds' nests within the five city blocks we walked to the post office. True, two or three of them at least were in the small gazebo park next to the post office (one of the few spots in town where we have a good clump of trees together) but it was exciting, nonetheless.
In fact, birds have suddenly appeared in great numbers, even in our little city. When I woke up yesterday, I could hear one (hear, not see) trilling a good morning song over and over. If I stood in one particular place in my kitchen, right under the skylight, it was like having front row seats concert seats. Later in the morning, during our school-time, a bird flew right up to our apartment windowsill and boldly peered in at us for a few seconds.
I'm excited because our small box from the Rainbow Resource Center arrived late yesterday. I had ordered a couple of craft projects and a math game from them, and while I was at it, I also ordered a good pair of child-sized binoculars. With the birds returning in great numbers and busily getting their spring building projects underway, I want to make sure we're good and ready to watch.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Simple Beauties on my Birthday
I thought about writing something profound in honor of my 40th birthday today...something like "40 reasons I'm grateful." I actually began mentally composing such a post this morning, which was a wonderful exercise in gratitude and blessings-counting.
But I'm having such a lovely, simple, quiet day...a day to rest and just be with my little girl, a day where I've been struck quite forcefully by just how contented I feel to be living in this moment. Thank you, Lord.
So I thought I'd just post this photo, which I took several mornings ago when the sweet girl was playing with her colorful rocks. Sometimes the joys we feel are hard to capture in words. Sometimes a photo feels like a poem. For some reason, this one seems to capture the state of my heart today. If I figure out why, I'll let you know.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
As We Move Toward Easter: Poetry
The Agony
Philosophers have measured mountains,
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walked with a staff to heaven, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things
The which to measure it doth more behoove:
Yet few there are that sound them: Sin and Love.
Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto Mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains that all his hair,
His skin, his garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, that forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through every vein.
Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach; then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.
--George Herbert (1593-1633)
What an amazing, beautiful, powerful poem. I'm thankful to have found it posted yesterday on TitusOneNine, which has been posting poetry, prayers and meditations since Maundy Thursday.
Philosophers have measured mountains,
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walked with a staff to heaven, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things
The which to measure it doth more behoove:
Yet few there are that sound them: Sin and Love.
Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto Mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains that all his hair,
His skin, his garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, that forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through every vein.
Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach; then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.
--George Herbert (1593-1633)
What an amazing, beautiful, powerful poem. I'm thankful to have found it posted yesterday on TitusOneNine, which has been posting poetry, prayers and meditations since Maundy Thursday.
Jon Hassler (March 30, 1933-March 20, 2008)
I just heard the news that Jon Hassler died on Thursday. I knew he'd been ill for a long time, so this wasn't entirely surprising. But I confess I felt unspeakably sad when I read the news. Hassler's novels -- and especially his memorable characters -- have given me much delight over the years, and much to ponder.
Hassler was a Catholic writer, a Minnesotan. His stories often tapped deep emotions, with grief and humor ever standing close beside each other. It was through his books that I met one of my favorite literary heroines (though I think she would frown at me for using such a term) Agatha McGeee. As a character, Agatha has always felt so real to me that I almost found myself wondering how she was taking the news of Hassler's death.
The Minnesota Post has a moving obituary online here.
Rest in peace, Jon. Thank you so much for all the wonderful stories.
Hassler was a Catholic writer, a Minnesotan. His stories often tapped deep emotions, with grief and humor ever standing close beside each other. It was through his books that I met one of my favorite literary heroines (though I think she would frown at me for using such a term) Agatha McGeee. As a character, Agatha has always felt so real to me that I almost found myself wondering how she was taking the news of Hassler's death.
The Minnesota Post has a moving obituary online here.
Rest in peace, Jon. Thank you so much for all the wonderful stories.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Good Friday
Jesus, name above all names,
Beautiful Saviour, glorious Lord;
Emmanuel, God is with us,
Blessed Redeemer, Living Word.
Beautiful Saviour, glorious Lord;
Emmanuel, God is with us,
Blessed Redeemer, Living Word.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
CT Book Awards 2008
The Christianity Today book awards were announced yesterday. I always love it when this list comes out, knowing I will find several books (at least!) that I want to read. This year was no exception. I knew fewer of the titles (very few) on sight, though I did know a number of the authors. And yes, as I read through this list this morning, I must have thought "oh! that's one I really want to read!" at least half a dozen times.
The CT Awards are given "to the books that best shed light on people, events, and ideas that shape evangelical life, thought, and mission." You can read the full list here. Here are the ones that jumped out at me and have already made it onto my mental "I want to read that" list.
In the Biblical Studies category: The Jesus Legend: A Case for the Historical Reliability of the Synoptic Jesus Tradition by Paul Rhodes Eddy and Gregory A. Boyd (Baker Academic).
With so much "stuff" floating out there these days about so-called gnostic gospels, I think it's more important than ever that those of us who trust the reliability of the four canonical gospels know how to cogently share why. So this looks like an excellent read.
In the Christian Living category: Caring for Mother: A Daughter's Long Goodbye by Virginia Stem Owens (Westminster John Knox).
Owens' prose is always beautiful, and I'm sure is especially poignant given the topic. I have always had a tender place in my heart for care-givers' journeys and stories of the elderly, especially since my family cared for my paternal grandmother during the last five years of her life.
In the fiction cagtegory: Quaker Summer by Lisa Samson (Thomas Nelson).
I don't know either the author or the book, but it sounds intriguing...and if I'm reading the synopsis correctly, may actually be a story collection rather than a novel. I'm always on the lookout for good short stories.
In the History/Biography category: A Secular Age by Charles Taylor (Belknap).
This book sounds incredibly important: "a historical analysis of secularization, secularity, and secularism in the modern West," as the CT judges described it. They also called it "The best book ever written on the West's transition 'from a society where belief in God is unchallenged and, indeed, unproblematic to one in which it is understood to be one option among others, and frequently not the easiest to embrace.'" Given my own studies in theological modernism (in seminary and beyond) this is a topic that really fascinates/troubles me. I'm still building my understanding of the history of Western thought, even after all these years. This sounds like a must-read if I want to continue that journey!
In Missions/Global Affairs: Disciples of All Nations: Pillars of World Christianity by Lamin O. Sanneh (Oxford)
Sanneh is a very important missions scholar. And I continue to need and want to understand more about missions and global Christianity.
In the Spirituality category: The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways that Jesus is the Way by Eugene H. Peterson (Eerdmans)
Any new book from Peterson is cause for joyous celebration and serious contemplation. This is probably the top of my longing to read list.
From the Christianity and Culture category: Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy by David B. Kraybill, Steven M. Nolt, and David L. Weaverzercher (Jossey-Bass)
The Amish response to the Nickel Mines shootings astounded the world...and was a powerful testimony to the gospel and its ability to shape us into people of radical forgiveness. Always worth reflecting on in our world.
And an award of merit given in the History and Biography category: The Great Awakening: The Roots of Evangelical Christianity in Colonial America Thomas S. Kidd (Yale)
I have several historical theological eras that interest me deeply, and the Great Awakening is one of them. Every time I read more about it, I'm struck by how many features that we "take for granted" in American evangelicalism seem to be rooted in that time period and shaped by it.
Lots of other interesting books on the list. Those are just the ones that jumped up and grabbed my notice!
The CT Awards are given "to the books that best shed light on people, events, and ideas that shape evangelical life, thought, and mission." You can read the full list here. Here are the ones that jumped out at me and have already made it onto my mental "I want to read that" list.
In the Biblical Studies category: The Jesus Legend: A Case for the Historical Reliability of the Synoptic Jesus Tradition by Paul Rhodes Eddy and Gregory A. Boyd (Baker Academic).
With so much "stuff" floating out there these days about so-called gnostic gospels, I think it's more important than ever that those of us who trust the reliability of the four canonical gospels know how to cogently share why. So this looks like an excellent read.
In the Christian Living category: Caring for Mother: A Daughter's Long Goodbye by Virginia Stem Owens (Westminster John Knox).
Owens' prose is always beautiful, and I'm sure is especially poignant given the topic. I have always had a tender place in my heart for care-givers' journeys and stories of the elderly, especially since my family cared for my paternal grandmother during the last five years of her life.
In the fiction cagtegory: Quaker Summer by Lisa Samson (Thomas Nelson).
I don't know either the author or the book, but it sounds intriguing...and if I'm reading the synopsis correctly, may actually be a story collection rather than a novel. I'm always on the lookout for good short stories.
In the History/Biography category: A Secular Age by Charles Taylor (Belknap).
This book sounds incredibly important: "a historical analysis of secularization, secularity, and secularism in the modern West," as the CT judges described it. They also called it "The best book ever written on the West's transition 'from a society where belief in God is unchallenged and, indeed, unproblematic to one in which it is understood to be one option among others, and frequently not the easiest to embrace.'" Given my own studies in theological modernism (in seminary and beyond) this is a topic that really fascinates/troubles me. I'm still building my understanding of the history of Western thought, even after all these years. This sounds like a must-read if I want to continue that journey!
In Missions/Global Affairs: Disciples of All Nations: Pillars of World Christianity by Lamin O. Sanneh (Oxford)
Sanneh is a very important missions scholar. And I continue to need and want to understand more about missions and global Christianity.
In the Spirituality category: The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways that Jesus is the Way by Eugene H. Peterson (Eerdmans)
Any new book from Peterson is cause for joyous celebration and serious contemplation. This is probably the top of my longing to read list.
From the Christianity and Culture category: Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy by David B. Kraybill, Steven M. Nolt, and David L. Weaverzercher (Jossey-Bass)
The Amish response to the Nickel Mines shootings astounded the world...and was a powerful testimony to the gospel and its ability to shape us into people of radical forgiveness. Always worth reflecting on in our world.
And an award of merit given in the History and Biography category: The Great Awakening: The Roots of Evangelical Christianity in Colonial America Thomas S. Kidd (Yale)
I have several historical theological eras that interest me deeply, and the Great Awakening is one of them. Every time I read more about it, I'm struck by how many features that we "take for granted" in American evangelicalism seem to be rooted in that time period and shaped by it.
Lots of other interesting books on the list. Those are just the ones that jumped up and grabbed my notice!
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Telling Authors How Much We Love Their Work
With the internet and different forms of electronic communication, it's become so much easier in recent years to contact authors whose books you love and enjoy. I appreciate that many authors want to hear from readers, and I take them at their word. I know how much I enjoy it when anything I write "connects" with someone's mind and heart, and how delightful it is to hear someone say that! I can't imagine that enjoyment lessens even if you happen to have been a published author for years.
With that in mind, in recent months I've begun dropping "notes" to some of the sweet girl's favorite writers. It started a few months back with Marisabina Russo, whose gracious reply to our email made our day.
Then last week I decided to leave a note on the website guestbook of Mary Ann Hoberman, whom the sweet girl had recently told me was her favorite writer. How we have loved Hoberman's poetry this year! Since it's a public guest book, you can see what I wrote and Ms. Hoberman's wonderful reply here. Among other things, I learned that she and I share a love for Jane Austen. Given her rich enjoyment in language, that didn't really surprise me!
With that in mind, in recent months I've begun dropping "notes" to some of the sweet girl's favorite writers. It started a few months back with Marisabina Russo, whose gracious reply to our email made our day.
Then last week I decided to leave a note on the website guestbook of Mary Ann Hoberman, whom the sweet girl had recently told me was her favorite writer. How we have loved Hoberman's poetry this year! Since it's a public guest book, you can see what I wrote and Ms. Hoberman's wonderful reply here. Among other things, I learned that she and I share a love for Jane Austen. Given her rich enjoyment in language, that didn't really surprise me!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
An Abundance of Teakettles
Sometimes you can do something one way for so long, you can almost forget how it started. Take my teakettle situation, for instance.
I enjoy drinking tea, and so does the rest of the family. But for ages, I've not owned a teakettle. Instead, I've heated water in a regular pot on the stove, or (shudder) when I'm in a hurry, in the microwave (though the water never tastes right somehow). If anyone asked me why I didn't have a teakettle, I would tell them it was because I'd burned out so many.
And it's true. I'm notoriously bad at leaving water boiling too long and burning out all sorts of pans and kettles. I just get distracted, usually by reading, writing or cleaning (or hanging out with my daughter) and I leave things on the stove too long. I have some very funny stories I could tell on myself, including the one from the morning I tried to sterilize the sweet girl's pacifiers when she was just a few months old.
I know, you're thinking: but don't teakettles have whistles? Yeeesss, but I usually got the kind where the whistler was optional, and I'd get tired of it and take it out. Dumb move!
Whenever I burned out a cooking pan or sauce pan, I would replace it soon -- because I NEEDED cooking pans. For some reason, I relegated teakettle to luxury item. I'd burned out too many, so somehow in my mind I didn't deserve a teakettle anymore. Weird, I know. While bemoaning the absence of a kettle to my husband not long ago, he laughed and said "I think you've deprived yourself long enough." I laughed and agreed, but still didn't get a teakettle. Does this have anything to do with Scots stubbornness?
Well, in the past few weeks, on separate occasions I've had friends over and we've had tea. Both times I've cheerfully explained why I don't have a teakettle, adding that I'd have to do something about that one day. One friend told me she thought she had an extra one she could give me, which I thought was very sweet, but promptly forgot about it.
Until yesterday, when a silver teakettle (used but nice and quite serviceable, thank you) showed up on the mat outside my door. My friend had remembered and decided to play teakettle fairy. I love it. It's even got one of those "built-in whistlers" so I can't dismantle it and get back into my bad habits!
But it gets better. Also on the mat, when D. brought the teakettle in, was the morning's mail. Included in that was a beautiful note from the other friend I'd been drinking tea with a week or so ago (she lives in another state). The note was just lovely, bringing tears of gratitude to my eyes -- I'm so thankful for friends. And tucked inside the card was a gift of money with another note that said "for a teakettle -- or wherever else you see a need."
When it rains, it pours! Or in this case, steams and whistles! I laughed and laughed over the abundance of kindness. Yes, thank you, Lord, I got it. I really should have a teakettle again.
I enjoy drinking tea, and so does the rest of the family. But for ages, I've not owned a teakettle. Instead, I've heated water in a regular pot on the stove, or (shudder) when I'm in a hurry, in the microwave (though the water never tastes right somehow). If anyone asked me why I didn't have a teakettle, I would tell them it was because I'd burned out so many.
And it's true. I'm notoriously bad at leaving water boiling too long and burning out all sorts of pans and kettles. I just get distracted, usually by reading, writing or cleaning (or hanging out with my daughter) and I leave things on the stove too long. I have some very funny stories I could tell on myself, including the one from the morning I tried to sterilize the sweet girl's pacifiers when she was just a few months old.
I know, you're thinking: but don't teakettles have whistles? Yeeesss, but I usually got the kind where the whistler was optional, and I'd get tired of it and take it out. Dumb move!
Whenever I burned out a cooking pan or sauce pan, I would replace it soon -- because I NEEDED cooking pans. For some reason, I relegated teakettle to luxury item. I'd burned out too many, so somehow in my mind I didn't deserve a teakettle anymore. Weird, I know. While bemoaning the absence of a kettle to my husband not long ago, he laughed and said "I think you've deprived yourself long enough." I laughed and agreed, but still didn't get a teakettle. Does this have anything to do with Scots stubbornness?
Well, in the past few weeks, on separate occasions I've had friends over and we've had tea. Both times I've cheerfully explained why I don't have a teakettle, adding that I'd have to do something about that one day. One friend told me she thought she had an extra one she could give me, which I thought was very sweet, but promptly forgot about it.
Until yesterday, when a silver teakettle (used but nice and quite serviceable, thank you) showed up on the mat outside my door. My friend had remembered and decided to play teakettle fairy. I love it. It's even got one of those "built-in whistlers" so I can't dismantle it and get back into my bad habits!
But it gets better. Also on the mat, when D. brought the teakettle in, was the morning's mail. Included in that was a beautiful note from the other friend I'd been drinking tea with a week or so ago (she lives in another state). The note was just lovely, bringing tears of gratitude to my eyes -- I'm so thankful for friends. And tucked inside the card was a gift of money with another note that said "for a teakettle -- or wherever else you see a need."
When it rains, it pours! Or in this case, steams and whistles! I laughed and laughed over the abundance of kindness. Yes, thank you, Lord, I got it. I really should have a teakettle again.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
"When I am 53..."
I'm in the midst of watching the film Becoming Jane, a rather fanciful, speculative take on Jane Austen's life (shaping her biography to emphasize the connections to her novels). Seeing it has made me go blog-hopping amongst Austen blogs, something I haven't done in a while.
One the blog Austenprose, I found a clever post with a quote from Stella Gibbon's novel Cold Comfort Farm. I haven't read that book in years, though I remember it was quite funny. I hadn't discovered Austen at the time I read it, so I'm sure this bit (which I'm excerpting from the slightly longer passage they posted) passed right over my head. But oh, it made me laugh now, especially since I'm just 2 plus weeks out from my 40th birthday...and find myself thinking the usual thoughts about what shape my writing life might take in the next decade.
I think it’s degrading of you, Flora,’ cried her friend at breakfast. ‘Do you truly mean that you don’t ever want to work at anything? ‘
Her friend replied after some thought: ‘Well, when I am 53 or so I would like to write a novel as good as Persuasion, but with a modern setting, of course. For the next 30 years or so I shall be collecting material for it. If anyone asks me what I work at, I shall say, ‘Collecting material’. No one can object to that. Besides, so I shall be.’ (Cold Comfort Farm, p. 20)
I have to change Flora's words, of course. I don't have 30 years or so to "collect material" -- only about 13 if I plan to manage my Persuasion-like masterpiece by the time I'm 53.
I'd better get cracking!
One the blog Austenprose, I found a clever post with a quote from Stella Gibbon's novel Cold Comfort Farm. I haven't read that book in years, though I remember it was quite funny. I hadn't discovered Austen at the time I read it, so I'm sure this bit (which I'm excerpting from the slightly longer passage they posted) passed right over my head. But oh, it made me laugh now, especially since I'm just 2 plus weeks out from my 40th birthday...and find myself thinking the usual thoughts about what shape my writing life might take in the next decade.
I think it’s degrading of you, Flora,’ cried her friend at breakfast. ‘Do you truly mean that you don’t ever want to work at anything? ‘
Her friend replied after some thought: ‘Well, when I am 53 or so I would like to write a novel as good as Persuasion, but with a modern setting, of course. For the next 30 years or so I shall be collecting material for it. If anyone asks me what I work at, I shall say, ‘Collecting material’. No one can object to that. Besides, so I shall be.’ (Cold Comfort Farm, p. 20)
I have to change Flora's words, of course. I don't have 30 years or so to "collect material" -- only about 13 if I plan to manage my Persuasion-like masterpiece by the time I'm 53.
I'd better get cracking!
Belated Literary Birthday: Theodor "Seuss" Geisel
Think of birthdays with red punch
and birthdays with cake;
Think of books you can read
and fun things you can make!
Think of libraries, children,
the cat in the hat.
Think of dear Seuss' birthday...
just think about that!
I penned the above this morning in honor of the lovely time the sweet girl and I had yesterday at the little local library, celebrating Dr. Seuss' birthday. The real Dr. Seuss, Theodor "Ted" Geisel, was born on March 2, 1904. He passed away in 1991.
The sweet girl had a wonderful time yesterday, especially making her own red and white striped paper hat, just like the one belonging to Seuss' famous cat. The cat himself (in this case, herself) put in an appearance, walking around the room and hugging all the kids before helping to serve the party cake and punch. And of course, there was a rousing rendition of The Cat in the Hat read by our town's children's librarian, and our old family friend, Amy (who originally got both me and D. into library work at the seminary almost a decade ago).
After years of smiling nonchalance about Seuss books, the sweet girl has become a huge fan of the Dr. in recent months. It started with There's a Wocket in My Pocket and has progressed from there. Her current favorite is Oh, The Thinks you Can Think -- hence this morning's poem!
and birthdays with cake;
Think of books you can read
and fun things you can make!
Think of libraries, children,
the cat in the hat.
Think of dear Seuss' birthday...
just think about that!
I penned the above this morning in honor of the lovely time the sweet girl and I had yesterday at the little local library, celebrating Dr. Seuss' birthday. The real Dr. Seuss, Theodor "Ted" Geisel, was born on March 2, 1904. He passed away in 1991.
The sweet girl had a wonderful time yesterday, especially making her own red and white striped paper hat, just like the one belonging to Seuss' famous cat. The cat himself (in this case, herself) put in an appearance, walking around the room and hugging all the kids before helping to serve the party cake and punch. And of course, there was a rousing rendition of The Cat in the Hat read by our town's children's librarian, and our old family friend, Amy (who originally got both me and D. into library work at the seminary almost a decade ago).
After years of smiling nonchalance about Seuss books, the sweet girl has become a huge fan of the Dr. in recent months. It started with There's a Wocket in My Pocket and has progressed from there. Her current favorite is Oh, The Thinks you Can Think -- hence this morning's poem!
Friday, February 29, 2008
Winter Tree
Notice
that I gesture
away from myself,
upward and out,
making you raise
your eyes.
(EMP, 2/29/08)
that I gesture
away from myself,
upward and out,
making you raise
your eyes.
(EMP, 2/29/08)
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Kindergarten: The New "Harvard"?
Wow. I just read this story from the Chicago Tribune. It left me sort of speechless, and also very grateful that we're not putting ourselves or our daughter under the sort of pressure that would make a family vie for admissions in competitive kindergarten programs that cost 18,000 dollars per year. 18,000!
The idea of parents actually crafting resumes for their 4 and 5 year olds (talking up their terrific cognitive and fine motor skills) would be laughable if it wasn't so sobering. What kind of culture are we creating (have we created) that puts this kind of "learning pressure" on parents and families? Let them be children! Please!
Early learning should be a joy! And I'm sure many of the teachers in the prestigious schools talked about in that article know that, and make it so. But how sad that we can't find simpler, better ways of offering real teaching and learning options to parents and families, ones that are affordable and readily available to all. I honestly cannot see why early learning has to cost so much. Good public libraries, apples, colored pencils...those have been some of the main things we've used this year. Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly, but only slightly. We've been blessed with other things as well, such as internet access and some good books and curriculum. But it has not cost us an arm and a leg. And it's been a great kindergarten year.
And I empathize deeply, I truly do, with parents wanting to do what's best for their children, even when they don't always know what that is. I know homeschooling isn't for everyone, and for some folks really does not seem like an option even if they want to do it. I do not for a moment take for granted the blessing of our homeschooling efforts. They've cost us: not huge amounts of money, but huge amounts of effort to make this work as a family. It's not easy for us either, given our vocations, location, and financial struggles, to make homeschooling a priority. We've managed so far by the grace of God, who has provided the work we've needed and the flexibility in work schedules, and we're going to keep trusting that He will continue to see us through in those areas.
And in the meantime, I'm just going to be grateful for the joy of teaching and learning together, and the relief that I don't feel the pressure to craft a resume for my five year old.
The idea of parents actually crafting resumes for their 4 and 5 year olds (talking up their terrific cognitive and fine motor skills) would be laughable if it wasn't so sobering. What kind of culture are we creating (have we created) that puts this kind of "learning pressure" on parents and families? Let them be children! Please!
Early learning should be a joy! And I'm sure many of the teachers in the prestigious schools talked about in that article know that, and make it so. But how sad that we can't find simpler, better ways of offering real teaching and learning options to parents and families, ones that are affordable and readily available to all. I honestly cannot see why early learning has to cost so much. Good public libraries, apples, colored pencils...those have been some of the main things we've used this year. Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly, but only slightly. We've been blessed with other things as well, such as internet access and some good books and curriculum. But it has not cost us an arm and a leg. And it's been a great kindergarten year.
And I empathize deeply, I truly do, with parents wanting to do what's best for their children, even when they don't always know what that is. I know homeschooling isn't for everyone, and for some folks really does not seem like an option even if they want to do it. I do not for a moment take for granted the blessing of our homeschooling efforts. They've cost us: not huge amounts of money, but huge amounts of effort to make this work as a family. It's not easy for us either, given our vocations, location, and financial struggles, to make homeschooling a priority. We've managed so far by the grace of God, who has provided the work we've needed and the flexibility in work schedules, and we're going to keep trusting that He will continue to see us through in those areas.
And in the meantime, I'm just going to be grateful for the joy of teaching and learning together, and the relief that I don't feel the pressure to craft a resume for my five year old.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Poetry Stretch: Rhyming Chant
Not long ago I discovered a wonderful blog called The Miss Rumphius Effect. In case you couldn't tell from the title, the blogger loves children's literature. She blogs from my old hometown of Richmond, Virginia. And she also loves poetry. What a great trio of things to learn about a blog!
About once a week, she posts a new "poetry stretch." The one for this last Monday, which I didn't happen to see until yesterday, suggested trying a "rhyming chant." Here was the wording of the original stretch, which she posted from another blog:
"How's this for a poetry stretch -- could you take the names of a group of, say, 10-20 rodents, or mammals (or even poets, authors or bloggers) and make them into a rhyming chant? I'm heading over to Miss Rumphius right now to suggest it!"
I've had Harry Potter on the brain again lately, probably because I've been spending time listening to the last two beautiful film scores (Goblet of Fire composed by the marvelous Patrick Doyle, and the surprisingly moving and energetic score for Order of the Phoenix composed by Nicholas Hooper). So when I considered this challenge, what popped into my head almost right away was the beginning of a Harry Potter rhyming chant.
My rhythmic inspiration comes from Tonio K's old song/chant "Impressed."
Hermione and red haired Ron,
Harry James, the orphaned son,
James and Lily, Sirius, Remus,
Neville, Dean and their friend Seamus.
Arthur, Molly, George and Fred,
Severus whose class we dread,
Hagrid and his huge dog Fang,
Ginny Weasley and Cho Chang!
Hogwarts...we love Hogwarts!
Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Moony,
Luna Lovegood (sometimes "Loony"),
Pushy Peeves and Ghostly Nick,
Filch who doesn't miss a trick.
Feline Crookshanks, Mrs. Norris,
Centaur herds out in the forest,
McGonagall and Dumbledore,
Victor Krum, Fleur Delacour!
Hogwarts...we love Hogwarts!
This was great fun...even if it did keep waking my brain up in the middle of the night!
About once a week, she posts a new "poetry stretch." The one for this last Monday, which I didn't happen to see until yesterday, suggested trying a "rhyming chant." Here was the wording of the original stretch, which she posted from another blog:
"How's this for a poetry stretch -- could you take the names of a group of, say, 10-20 rodents, or mammals (or even poets, authors or bloggers) and make them into a rhyming chant? I'm heading over to Miss Rumphius right now to suggest it!"
I've had Harry Potter on the brain again lately, probably because I've been spending time listening to the last two beautiful film scores (Goblet of Fire composed by the marvelous Patrick Doyle, and the surprisingly moving and energetic score for Order of the Phoenix composed by Nicholas Hooper). So when I considered this challenge, what popped into my head almost right away was the beginning of a Harry Potter rhyming chant.
My rhythmic inspiration comes from Tonio K's old song/chant "Impressed."
Hermione and red haired Ron,
Harry James, the orphaned son,
James and Lily, Sirius, Remus,
Neville, Dean and their friend Seamus.
Arthur, Molly, George and Fred,
Severus whose class we dread,
Hagrid and his huge dog Fang,
Ginny Weasley and Cho Chang!
Hogwarts...we love Hogwarts!
Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Moony,
Luna Lovegood (sometimes "Loony"),
Pushy Peeves and Ghostly Nick,
Filch who doesn't miss a trick.
Feline Crookshanks, Mrs. Norris,
Centaur herds out in the forest,
McGonagall and Dumbledore,
Victor Krum, Fleur Delacour!
Hogwarts...we love Hogwarts!
This was great fun...even if it did keep waking my brain up in the middle of the night!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
A Poignant Little Post
It's been a busy month, in part because I've been trying to write more reviews for Epinions than usual. They're having another "promotional" month where they guarantee a certain payment per review on top of the usual income share our writing garners from the site. It's hard to resist when I'm trying to stash away dollars in the Epi-account that will help pay for books and curriculum (Lord willing) for the sweet girl's first grade year here at home.
I do enjoy writing reviews, however, especially of books and movies. I wouldn't do it if I didn't enjoy it (the money is not that good, even with the promotional, believe me!). One thing I've discovered, however, during this month of trying to write and post at a much faster than usual pace, is that I have certain "fall back" words. When something really moves me, I tend to run toward a certain handful of adjectives and use them over and over, if not in one review, then at least consistently throughout several reviews.
I think my major clutch-hitting adjective is "poignant." I just love this little word. It's a good one. For one thing, it sounds so lovely, so much smoother than it looks like it would sound with that middle 'g.' It's got Anglo-French roots, which is probably why the 'g' doesn't get a typical English pronunciation. Its "pointed" look as a word, yet its somehow more beautiful and smooth sound than you expected, all relate to its meaning. Here's a look at its etymology and definition from www.merriam-webster.com
Etymology:
Middle English poynaunt, from Anglo-French poinant, poignant, present participle of poindre to prick, sting, from Latin pungere — more at pungent
Date:
14th century
1: pungently pervasive (a poignant perfume) 2 a (1): painfully affecting the feelings : piercing (2): deeply affecting : touching b: designed to make an impression : cutting3 a: pleasurably stimulating b: being to the point : apt
As wonderful a word as it is, I think I need some new ones. A quick look around thesaurus.com provided a handful of synonyms. Synonyms of poignant's cousin "eloquent" provided this verbal bouquet:
witty, affecting, ardent, articulate, expressive, facund, fervent, fervid, fluent, forceful, glib, grandiloquent, graphic, impassioned, impressive, indicative, magniloquent, meaningful, moving, outspoken, passionate, persuasive, poignant, potent, powerful, revealing, rhetorical, sententious, significant, silver-tongued*, smooth-spoken*, stirring, suggestive, telling, touching, vivid, vocal, voluble, well-expressed
Antonyms: inarticulate, tongue-tied
Source: Roget's New Millennium™ Thesaurus, First Edition (v 1.3.1)
Copyright © 2008 by Lexico Publishing Group, LLC. All rights reserved.
* = informal or slang
I'm hoping all this research will inspire me to dig a little deeper in my grab-bag of words the next time I decide that a book has really moved me profoundly. Although I still plan to use "poignant" in my next review...
What are some of your favorite fall back adjectives?
I do enjoy writing reviews, however, especially of books and movies. I wouldn't do it if I didn't enjoy it (the money is not that good, even with the promotional, believe me!). One thing I've discovered, however, during this month of trying to write and post at a much faster than usual pace, is that I have certain "fall back" words. When something really moves me, I tend to run toward a certain handful of adjectives and use them over and over, if not in one review, then at least consistently throughout several reviews.
I think my major clutch-hitting adjective is "poignant." I just love this little word. It's a good one. For one thing, it sounds so lovely, so much smoother than it looks like it would sound with that middle 'g.' It's got Anglo-French roots, which is probably why the 'g' doesn't get a typical English pronunciation. Its "pointed" look as a word, yet its somehow more beautiful and smooth sound than you expected, all relate to its meaning. Here's a look at its etymology and definition from www.merriam-webster.com
Etymology:
Middle English poynaunt, from Anglo-French poinant, poignant, present participle of poindre to prick, sting, from Latin pungere — more at pungent
Date:
14th century
1: pungently pervasive (a poignant perfume) 2 a (1): painfully affecting the feelings : piercing (2): deeply affecting : touching b: designed to make an impression : cutting
As wonderful a word as it is, I think I need some new ones. A quick look around thesaurus.com provided a handful of synonyms. Synonyms of poignant's cousin "eloquent" provided this verbal bouquet:
witty, affecting, ardent, articulate, expressive, facund, fervent, fervid, fluent, forceful, glib, grandiloquent, graphic, impassioned, impressive, indicative, magniloquent, meaningful, moving, outspoken, passionate, persuasive, poignant, potent, powerful, revealing, rhetorical, sententious, significant, silver-tongued*, smooth-spoken*, stirring, suggestive, telling, touching, vivid, vocal, voluble, well-expressed
Antonyms: inarticulate, tongue-tied
Source: Roget's New Millennium™ Thesaurus, First Edition (v 1.3.1)
Copyright © 2008 by Lexico Publishing Group, LLC. All rights reserved.
* = informal or slang
I'm hoping all this research will inspire me to dig a little deeper in my grab-bag of words the next time I decide that a book has really moved me profoundly. Although I still plan to use "poignant" in my next review...
What are some of your favorite fall back adjectives?
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Tiny Little Flowers, Crooked Little Stitches
Lent is one of those seasons that I've never found particularly easy to navigate. Advent always seems too short -- we love the ritual of lighting candles and singing Advent hymns. Even Epiphany, though it doesn't have many traditional rituals associated with it, feels festive and hopeful.
Lent is all about wilderness time, preparation time, cleaning time. And while all of those things are good, none of them is easy. I've been realizing this Lent how hard it can be to "de-clutter" inwardly, and to focus strength and heart and eyes. I know what we're moving toward is important: the path to the cross, and then to the empty tomb.
Our Monday night fellowship group is helping me focus. We're reading Sarah Parsons' book A Clearing Season, which invites you to "map your wilderness" -- the particular inner wilderness of your own heart. Guess what? Going there can be overwhelming, even frightening. But it's a place we're called to go, remembering that Jesus was called into the wilderness, and that God was with him in his deepest temptations and hungers. God will be with us too.
I'm finding that very small practices are helping me journey this year. The patience of looking each morning at the tiny little "greenhouse" that the sweet girl and I sowed impatiens seeds in at the beginning of February. It sits on her windowsill, where it can get the light from the east. Just a few days ago, several of the seeds finally sprouted. They are tiny, I mean tiny! But green.
The patience of trying to learn to crochet. I am just about the least crafty person on the planet, and why I have had a yen to learn to crochet in the past year is beyond me. I am clumsy with my fingers, and even simple instructions take me a while to figure out. But today I did a good-sized foundation row (no, haven't figured out how to do the actual stitch to connect rows yet, but I'll get there) and those crooked little green yarn stitches spoke to my heart too. They took time, patience, focus of a sort that I don't often give to anything these days that I don't have to give focus to. Trying to learn to crochet is teaching me stillness, not to mention humility.
Sips, small sips, of my Lenten reading. I am loving Allen Ross' book on Biblical Worship, which I mentioned here several days ago. But I have resisted any urge to speed through it, as is my normal reading speed. I am sipping, trying to taste and to contemplate what I'm tasting.
This Lent I am trying to slow down. It's a lost art. As a friend in the fellowship group last night commented, the word "idle" can be found in the middle of the word "wilderness." I had been focusing on the word "wild" but hadn't even seen the word "idle." We talked about how wild a thing it is, in our day and age, to just be idle. I think it's something I need to re-learn.
Lent is all about wilderness time, preparation time, cleaning time. And while all of those things are good, none of them is easy. I've been realizing this Lent how hard it can be to "de-clutter" inwardly, and to focus strength and heart and eyes. I know what we're moving toward is important: the path to the cross, and then to the empty tomb.
Our Monday night fellowship group is helping me focus. We're reading Sarah Parsons' book A Clearing Season, which invites you to "map your wilderness" -- the particular inner wilderness of your own heart. Guess what? Going there can be overwhelming, even frightening. But it's a place we're called to go, remembering that Jesus was called into the wilderness, and that God was with him in his deepest temptations and hungers. God will be with us too.
I'm finding that very small practices are helping me journey this year. The patience of looking each morning at the tiny little "greenhouse" that the sweet girl and I sowed impatiens seeds in at the beginning of February. It sits on her windowsill, where it can get the light from the east. Just a few days ago, several of the seeds finally sprouted. They are tiny, I mean tiny! But green.
The patience of trying to learn to crochet. I am just about the least crafty person on the planet, and why I have had a yen to learn to crochet in the past year is beyond me. I am clumsy with my fingers, and even simple instructions take me a while to figure out. But today I did a good-sized foundation row (no, haven't figured out how to do the actual stitch to connect rows yet, but I'll get there) and those crooked little green yarn stitches spoke to my heart too. They took time, patience, focus of a sort that I don't often give to anything these days that I don't have to give focus to. Trying to learn to crochet is teaching me stillness, not to mention humility.
Sips, small sips, of my Lenten reading. I am loving Allen Ross' book on Biblical Worship, which I mentioned here several days ago. But I have resisted any urge to speed through it, as is my normal reading speed. I am sipping, trying to taste and to contemplate what I'm tasting.
This Lent I am trying to slow down. It's a lost art. As a friend in the fellowship group last night commented, the word "idle" can be found in the middle of the word "wilderness." I had been focusing on the word "wild" but hadn't even seen the word "idle." We talked about how wild a thing it is, in our day and age, to just be idle. I think it's something I need to re-learn.
Monday, February 18, 2008
And A Whole World Opens Up
It's been amazing recently to see how the whole world is opening up for the sweet girl as she gains reading confidence. Suddenly she is seeing words everywhere. Not just random collections of letters, but words. And she reads them, or tries to, wanting to know what everything means and why certain words are found in certain places (on book covers, cash registers, and bathtub faucets, just to name a few).
But yesterday at church was one of the most powerful moments for me, one of those "a-ha" moments that come from time to time. It's one thing to know with my mind that new horizons are opening up for her as she begins to unlock the mysteries of written language. It's another thing entirely to begin to see that bear fruit.
It happened during a time of praise and worship. The congregation was singing. We were singing the ballad "Here I am to worship/Here I am to bow down/Here I am to say that you're my God/You're altogether lovely/altogether worthy/altogether wonderful to me..." It's a lovely song we've sung a few times in church in the past year, but not often or repeatedly, either in church or at home.
I was singing, and suddenly I was arrested by the look on the sweet girl's face. Her Daddy was holding her. First of all, I noted that her lips were moving...she was actually singing (not something she does all that often, joining in and singing with a group). Then I noticed the deep listening look she had on her face, as though she was really listening to the music. And then I noticed her eyes. They were riveted to the overhead screen where the lyrics were posted, and her eyes were following along. When I write this, it sounds as though I consciously noticed these things step by step but really it all broke over me at once. I watched her for a few more seconds and realized, with awe, that she was following along with the written words and singing as she read them.
And I just wanted to jump for joy. Sometimes when you're caught up in the mechanics of teaching reading (sojourning long in the land of "Hop on Pop") you can lose sight of the ultimate goal. You teach someone to read, not just so they can decode those little marks on the page, but so whole words of story, song, and Scripture can be opened up to them, to their hearts, minds and imaginations. Just as we prayed and worked in order to help our late-talking daughter obtain speech, reminding ourselves that speech would help her to communicate and to praise, so we teach her to read knowing that reading provides a key that unlocks so much that is beautiful, meaningful and rich.
Thank you, Lord!
But yesterday at church was one of the most powerful moments for me, one of those "a-ha" moments that come from time to time. It's one thing to know with my mind that new horizons are opening up for her as she begins to unlock the mysteries of written language. It's another thing entirely to begin to see that bear fruit.
It happened during a time of praise and worship. The congregation was singing. We were singing the ballad "Here I am to worship/Here I am to bow down/Here I am to say that you're my God/You're altogether lovely/altogether worthy/altogether wonderful to me..." It's a lovely song we've sung a few times in church in the past year, but not often or repeatedly, either in church or at home.
I was singing, and suddenly I was arrested by the look on the sweet girl's face. Her Daddy was holding her. First of all, I noted that her lips were moving...she was actually singing (not something she does all that often, joining in and singing with a group). Then I noticed the deep listening look she had on her face, as though she was really listening to the music. And then I noticed her eyes. They were riveted to the overhead screen where the lyrics were posted, and her eyes were following along. When I write this, it sounds as though I consciously noticed these things step by step but really it all broke over me at once. I watched her for a few more seconds and realized, with awe, that she was following along with the written words and singing as she read them.
And I just wanted to jump for joy. Sometimes when you're caught up in the mechanics of teaching reading (sojourning long in the land of "Hop on Pop") you can lose sight of the ultimate goal. You teach someone to read, not just so they can decode those little marks on the page, but so whole words of story, song, and Scripture can be opened up to them, to their hearts, minds and imaginations. Just as we prayed and worked in order to help our late-talking daughter obtain speech, reminding ourselves that speech would help her to communicate and to praise, so we teach her to read knowing that reading provides a key that unlocks so much that is beautiful, meaningful and rich.
Thank you, Lord!
Friday, February 15, 2008
One More Note on Lincoln and Some Musings on Teaching American History
It's been a "Licoln-ish" week for us. Not only have we been reading the D'Aulaire biography, but D. brought home Lincoln Logs as a special present for the sweet girl. Hooray, our own Kentucky cabins, right on the living room rug!
I felt like I should add a caveat to my previous post about the D'Aulaire biography of Lincoln. We finished it today, and I must say that the sweet girl really enjoyed it. She was especially taken with a few of the illustrations, most notably the one of baby Abraham on a bearskin rug in a log cabin, surrounded by his parents and older sister Sally (anything to do with babies is a complete fascination for her right now). We also liked the end paper maps which showed Lincoln's geographical journeyings from Kentucky to Indiana to Illinois, with appropriate markers showing the direction of New Orleans (where he spent some time ferrying boats) and Washington, D.C., where he obviously spent a good deal of time as president of the U.S.
But I ended up with mixed feelings about the book. My minor concern was that it painted Lincoln in such glowing, ideal terms that he seemed more "saint-like" than I expected (and let's face it, even 'saints' are real, every-day people who sometimes make mistakes). I do find him a deeply admirable man, and I want S. to learn to value what's worthy and lasting in a person's life. I also found it odd that the book ended with the reunion of the North and South, but didn't go on to tell about the very sad ending of Lincoln's own life. Considering the book started with his birth, I expected it to move all the way through the story and onto his death. Yes, it's tragic and sad and hard to understand, but it's an important part of Lincoln's story and of our country's history. His death also highlights the cost of some of the work people do for justice. I can't fathom why the authors didn't include at least a mention of his death, in an afterword if not in the text itself, unless they were so concerned about having a "happy ending" in a children's book. Tell the truth, tell it simply, tell it well. I think that would be my approach here.
The other major concern I had was some of the later illustrations. When Lincoln first encounters a slave market in New Orleans, and then later when he meets some black citizens thanking him for what he did to free the slaves, the African-Americans are portrayed very stereotypically. This seems painfully shameful given the excellent details in the drawings of Lincoln himself and of his family and friends. The African-American faces reminded me of black dolls that children might have played with back when this story was written, each of them round and simple and dark without the wonderful details of character we see in Lincoln's face. It made me want to cry out to the artists (long gone, I'm sure) that they should have looked long and observed better so they could have drawn the beautiful humanity in their brothers and sisters of other races (the one Native American character doesn't fare much better).
What an odd and strange legacy we Americans have, so mixed. So much of our history is rich and worth studying, and yet it seems in all corners, even in children's books (we've encountered it here, we've encountered it in Laura Ingalls Wilder) you see the early and lasting effects of racism on people's thoughts and imaginations. I'm NOT (please hear me here) calling Wilder a racist. Her books do report some painful words and actions of some of the adults in her life when she was a child in ways that recall those times truthfully, and yet so many other scenes in her books (which were, after all, written many years later) seem to poignantly undermine them. One thinks of the long, sad trail of "Indians" that the Ingalls watch leaving the Praire, and the way Laura can't take her eyes off of the face of the little baby riding on his mother's back. We are made to feel the sadness and yes, the injustice of that moment, even if the squatting of white settlers like Pa and Ma were part of the problem, and part of what forced the Indians out of their land. The books are worth reading, not only for their ability to capture the pioneer experience of European settlers in this country, but for the very uncomfortable truths they point to about the fact that other people were here first and we pushed them out.
Well, I've wandered far afield...though perhaps not too far, as we celebrate Wilder's birthday in February as well (it was the 7th!).
But I need to keep thinking and wrestling and thinking some more about how to present American history, in all its wonders and all its mess, to the sweet girl. If I wonder aloud here from time to time, don't be surprised.
In the meantime, does anyone know of a more recent biography of Lincoln for young people in the 5-10 age range? I'd love to hear recommendations.
I felt like I should add a caveat to my previous post about the D'Aulaire biography of Lincoln. We finished it today, and I must say that the sweet girl really enjoyed it. She was especially taken with a few of the illustrations, most notably the one of baby Abraham on a bearskin rug in a log cabin, surrounded by his parents and older sister Sally (anything to do with babies is a complete fascination for her right now). We also liked the end paper maps which showed Lincoln's geographical journeyings from Kentucky to Indiana to Illinois, with appropriate markers showing the direction of New Orleans (where he spent some time ferrying boats) and Washington, D.C., where he obviously spent a good deal of time as president of the U.S.
But I ended up with mixed feelings about the book. My minor concern was that it painted Lincoln in such glowing, ideal terms that he seemed more "saint-like" than I expected (and let's face it, even 'saints' are real, every-day people who sometimes make mistakes). I do find him a deeply admirable man, and I want S. to learn to value what's worthy and lasting in a person's life. I also found it odd that the book ended with the reunion of the North and South, but didn't go on to tell about the very sad ending of Lincoln's own life. Considering the book started with his birth, I expected it to move all the way through the story and onto his death. Yes, it's tragic and sad and hard to understand, but it's an important part of Lincoln's story and of our country's history. His death also highlights the cost of some of the work people do for justice. I can't fathom why the authors didn't include at least a mention of his death, in an afterword if not in the text itself, unless they were so concerned about having a "happy ending" in a children's book. Tell the truth, tell it simply, tell it well. I think that would be my approach here.
The other major concern I had was some of the later illustrations. When Lincoln first encounters a slave market in New Orleans, and then later when he meets some black citizens thanking him for what he did to free the slaves, the African-Americans are portrayed very stereotypically. This seems painfully shameful given the excellent details in the drawings of Lincoln himself and of his family and friends. The African-American faces reminded me of black dolls that children might have played with back when this story was written, each of them round and simple and dark without the wonderful details of character we see in Lincoln's face. It made me want to cry out to the artists (long gone, I'm sure) that they should have looked long and observed better so they could have drawn the beautiful humanity in their brothers and sisters of other races (the one Native American character doesn't fare much better).
What an odd and strange legacy we Americans have, so mixed. So much of our history is rich and worth studying, and yet it seems in all corners, even in children's books (we've encountered it here, we've encountered it in Laura Ingalls Wilder) you see the early and lasting effects of racism on people's thoughts and imaginations. I'm NOT (please hear me here) calling Wilder a racist. Her books do report some painful words and actions of some of the adults in her life when she was a child in ways that recall those times truthfully, and yet so many other scenes in her books (which were, after all, written many years later) seem to poignantly undermine them. One thinks of the long, sad trail of "Indians" that the Ingalls watch leaving the Praire, and the way Laura can't take her eyes off of the face of the little baby riding on his mother's back. We are made to feel the sadness and yes, the injustice of that moment, even if the squatting of white settlers like Pa and Ma were part of the problem, and part of what forced the Indians out of their land. The books are worth reading, not only for their ability to capture the pioneer experience of European settlers in this country, but for the very uncomfortable truths they point to about the fact that other people were here first and we pushed them out.
Well, I've wandered far afield...though perhaps not too far, as we celebrate Wilder's birthday in February as well (it was the 7th!).
But I need to keep thinking and wrestling and thinking some more about how to present American history, in all its wonders and all its mess, to the sweet girl. If I wonder aloud here from time to time, don't be surprised.
In the meantime, does anyone know of a more recent biography of Lincoln for young people in the 5-10 age range? I'd love to hear recommendations.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
On Abraham Lincoln's Birthday
In honor of Abraham Lincoln's birthday (and by the way, next year will mark the 200th anniversary of his birth) we're reading Ingri and Perin D'Aulaire's biography, which won the Caldecott Medal in 1940.
So far I've been impressed. The D'Aulaires apparently wrote and illustrated a number of well-received biographies of American figures, most of which are still in print (or have been brought back into print). You can find many of them for sale here, but I'd bet you can also find a number of them in your public library, which is where we found this.
We're definitely enjoying it...the sweet girl is learning a lot, but I am too. And the illustrations are wonderful: colorful, eye-catching, evoking another time and sometimes comically capturing the personality of the tall, gawky boy and adolescent who would grow up be the 16th president of the United States.
So far I've been impressed. The D'Aulaires apparently wrote and illustrated a number of well-received biographies of American figures, most of which are still in print (or have been brought back into print). You can find many of them for sale here, but I'd bet you can also find a number of them in your public library, which is where we found this.
We're definitely enjoying it...the sweet girl is learning a lot, but I am too. And the illustrations are wonderful: colorful, eye-catching, evoking another time and sometimes comically capturing the personality of the tall, gawky boy and adolescent who would grow up be the 16th president of the United States.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Lenten Reading
Recalling the Hope of Glory: Biblical Worship from the Garden to the New Creation by Allen P. Ross.
I had the privilege of taking a class with Allen Ross about a decade ago, during my first semester of seminary. It was a course called "Background to the Gospels."
This book on Biblical Worship was published in 2006, and we got it soon after (I think I bought it at the sem bookstore as a gift for my dear husband). I've read the introduction a couple of times in the past year, and have been moved by the way the language (both scholarly and beautiful) points way past it itself and helps you to keep your eyes focused on God: his essential nature, his character and attributes, his uniqueness.
For Lent this year, I'm reading just a bit each day. I have no grand plans to finish this book any time soon (it's big) but am letting myself sip. Another professor I studied under at Trinity, Arnie Klukas, helped me see the difference between reading for "information" and reading for "formation." A few paragraphs per day of this weighty and contemplative book is how I'm attempting to read for formation during the lenten season.
It also ties in well with another much smaller book I've been working through in recent weeks: Teaching Kids Authentic Worship by Kathleen Chapman. It's a simple and practical little book about the importance of helping children to love and worship God -- because (as she helpfully points out) we all worship something. We're wired for devotion, kids no less than adults. Now is the time to gently lead children into a deeper knowledge of who God is so that they will know his excellence, his beauty, his holiness.
Our fellowship group at church is beginning a few-week Lenten study using a book called A Clearing Season by Sarah Parsons. It's published by the Upper Room. I've only skimmed the first few pages so I'll have to revisit that one here another time. Essentially it looks like a guide to "clearing space" in the wilderness of our lives so that we can better hear and love God. What obstacles are in our way? What spiritual practices and disciplines might help us hear his voice better? Always timely questions, and not just at lent.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Ash Wednesday
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.
Hebrews 12: 1-3 (ESV)
Hebrews 12: 1-3 (ESV)
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Making Herbariums With Betsy, Tacy and Tib
“Yoo-hoo, Betsy!”
As a child, I always wanted to yell that. That’s because I always longed to be friends with Betsy Ray, the protagonist of the Betsy-Tacy books by Maud Hart Lovelace. Like me, Betsy read books in maple trees. How much fun it would have been if we could have shared a tree!
There are many fictional landscapes of my heart, places I’ve visited far more times than some actual geographic locations you can pinpoint on a paper map. Deep Valley, Minnesota, at the turn of the century, is one of the best.
I wished I could join Betsy, Tacy and Tib on so many of their escapades. Most of all, I always wanted to join them on the “Big Hill” behind Tacy’s house, where they liked to picnic and gather wildflowers. Their picnic food was the best. If I close my eyes, I can practically smell the cocoa made in a pail over an open fire, or imagine the taste of Tacy’s mother’s plain, unfrosted cake.
I recently discovered a wonderful blog (just right for my winter-weary self) called Wildflower Morning. The lady who has created this beautiful space has issued a call for photos and artwork inspired by wildflowers. I knew I would enjoy looking at the lovely entries, especially as winter cold rages on here in my part of the country. I didn’t realize I would post, but how could I resist this week’s call for “literary wildflowers”?
Because one of the funniest scenes in all the Betsy-Tacy books comes in the seventh book, Betsy Was a Junior. Betsy, Tacy and Tib are high school juniors (Deep Valley High, class of 1910) and for most of the book they’ve been having such a fun time that they’ve neglected their studies a bit. (Rabbit trail I won’t pursue: how uninspiring some public education already seemed by this time…these books were based on Maud Hart Lovelace’s real high school experiences in Mankato, Minnesota during the same years.)
The little girls who used to gather wildflowers have now grown up (at least somewhat) and have discovered, to their dismay, that they are all about to fail Mr. Gaston’s Botany class. And why? Because the herbariums he assigned them to create at year’s beginning are due the next day, and none of them has worked on them all year.
”A herbarium,” said Betsy, “is a collection of dried and pressed specimens of plants, usually mounted or otherwise prepared for permanent preservation and systematically arranged in paper covers placed in boxes or cases.”
“You know the definition all right,” said Tib. “But you can’t turn in a definition tomorrow.”
“How many flowers did he say we had to have?”
“Fifty.”
Thus begins the girl’s merry and manic attempt to create herbariums of fifty flowers each, during the seventeen hours remaining before they need to leave for school the next morning.
”Only nine,” said Tib. “We’re supposed to spend eight of them sleeping.”
“Supposed to spend!...There’s no law about going to bed the night before you have to make a herbarium for botany.”
They do a pretty good job finding flowers in the spring sunshine before the sun sets that evening. Remember, it’s near the end of the school year, so days are long. They find “clover and dandelions, and strawberry blossoms and buttercups, and wild geranium and lupine, and columbine and false Solomon’s-seal.” Hurrying back and forth, they scour across the grass and find “purple violets…(and) the dog-tooth kind…spring beauties and wake robins…bloodroots…Dutchman’s breeches…hepaticas…jacks-in-the-pulpit.”
So many of these flowers I’d never heard of before I came across them in Maud Hart Lovelace’s prose. Some of them I’m still not familiar with entirely, but just typing their names intrigues me and makes me think I should spend some time looking them up!
In the end, of course, Betsy, Tacy and Tib can’t quite find fifty kinds of flowers each, even in Deep Valley in the springtime. But they have a great time trying. They dry them in batches in the oven and stay up almost all night at Tib’s house. They sneak out before the sun is up, cleverly thinking they’ll find more, only to realize to their chagrin that the flowers aren’t open yet. ”Fine botany students we are!” cried Tacy and went off into laughter which made the robins, thrashers, meadowlarks and warblers redouble their efforts at vocal supremacy.
They also finally realize that they could have made good herbariums (at least Tacy and Tib think so) and that they all would have enjoyed it if they’d taken their time and spent the year working on them. They even pass the class...barely, though I always start laughing when I reach that part of the chapter:
”Never, never in my whole life,” said Mr. Gaston (he was twenty-four), “never in my whole career as a teacher,” (he had taught for three years), “have I seen such herbariums! Not a fall flower included!”
But he felt a little guilty, perhaps because he could not identify all the specimens they had presented. At any rate, for whatever reason, he passed them.
So there you have it...one of my favorite literary passages about wildflowers!
As a child, I always wanted to yell that. That’s because I always longed to be friends with Betsy Ray, the protagonist of the Betsy-Tacy books by Maud Hart Lovelace. Like me, Betsy read books in maple trees. How much fun it would have been if we could have shared a tree!
There are many fictional landscapes of my heart, places I’ve visited far more times than some actual geographic locations you can pinpoint on a paper map. Deep Valley, Minnesota, at the turn of the century, is one of the best.
I wished I could join Betsy, Tacy and Tib on so many of their escapades. Most of all, I always wanted to join them on the “Big Hill” behind Tacy’s house, where they liked to picnic and gather wildflowers. Their picnic food was the best. If I close my eyes, I can practically smell the cocoa made in a pail over an open fire, or imagine the taste of Tacy’s mother’s plain, unfrosted cake.
I recently discovered a wonderful blog (just right for my winter-weary self) called Wildflower Morning. The lady who has created this beautiful space has issued a call for photos and artwork inspired by wildflowers. I knew I would enjoy looking at the lovely entries, especially as winter cold rages on here in my part of the country. I didn’t realize I would post, but how could I resist this week’s call for “literary wildflowers”?
Because one of the funniest scenes in all the Betsy-Tacy books comes in the seventh book, Betsy Was a Junior. Betsy, Tacy and Tib are high school juniors (Deep Valley High, class of 1910) and for most of the book they’ve been having such a fun time that they’ve neglected their studies a bit. (Rabbit trail I won’t pursue: how uninspiring some public education already seemed by this time…these books were based on Maud Hart Lovelace’s real high school experiences in Mankato, Minnesota during the same years.)
The little girls who used to gather wildflowers have now grown up (at least somewhat) and have discovered, to their dismay, that they are all about to fail Mr. Gaston’s Botany class. And why? Because the herbariums he assigned them to create at year’s beginning are due the next day, and none of them has worked on them all year.
”A herbarium,” said Betsy, “is a collection of dried and pressed specimens of plants, usually mounted or otherwise prepared for permanent preservation and systematically arranged in paper covers placed in boxes or cases.”
“You know the definition all right,” said Tib. “But you can’t turn in a definition tomorrow.”
“How many flowers did he say we had to have?”
“Fifty.”
Thus begins the girl’s merry and manic attempt to create herbariums of fifty flowers each, during the seventeen hours remaining before they need to leave for school the next morning.
”Only nine,” said Tib. “We’re supposed to spend eight of them sleeping.”
“Supposed to spend!...There’s no law about going to bed the night before you have to make a herbarium for botany.”
They do a pretty good job finding flowers in the spring sunshine before the sun sets that evening. Remember, it’s near the end of the school year, so days are long. They find “clover and dandelions, and strawberry blossoms and buttercups, and wild geranium and lupine, and columbine and false Solomon’s-seal.” Hurrying back and forth, they scour across the grass and find “purple violets…(and) the dog-tooth kind…spring beauties and wake robins…bloodroots…Dutchman’s breeches…hepaticas…jacks-in-the-pulpit.”
So many of these flowers I’d never heard of before I came across them in Maud Hart Lovelace’s prose. Some of them I’m still not familiar with entirely, but just typing their names intrigues me and makes me think I should spend some time looking them up!
In the end, of course, Betsy, Tacy and Tib can’t quite find fifty kinds of flowers each, even in Deep Valley in the springtime. But they have a great time trying. They dry them in batches in the oven and stay up almost all night at Tib’s house. They sneak out before the sun is up, cleverly thinking they’ll find more, only to realize to their chagrin that the flowers aren’t open yet. ”Fine botany students we are!” cried Tacy and went off into laughter which made the robins, thrashers, meadowlarks and warblers redouble their efforts at vocal supremacy.
They also finally realize that they could have made good herbariums (at least Tacy and Tib think so) and that they all would have enjoyed it if they’d taken their time and spent the year working on them. They even pass the class...barely, though I always start laughing when I reach that part of the chapter:
”Never, never in my whole life,” said Mr. Gaston (he was twenty-four), “never in my whole career as a teacher,” (he had taught for three years), “have I seen such herbariums! Not a fall flower included!”
But he felt a little guilty, perhaps because he could not identify all the specimens they had presented. At any rate, for whatever reason, he passed them.
So there you have it...one of my favorite literary passages about wildflowers!
Thursday, January 31, 2008
The Light Looks Different This Morning
The light really does look different this morning. I know it sounds crazy -- it's still January (though the last day!) and it's still 19 degrees outside (feels like 15 in the wind) but when I walked into the living room this morning, the way the light filtered through the blinds made me catch my breath. There was this small golden tint to the light, a sort of deepening, as though the morning itself was stretching out hopeful fingers toward a still far-off, but not as far-off, spring.
Oh yes, spring. We shall get there eventually.
Off to weather some more winter...
Oh yes, spring. We shall get there eventually.
Off to weather some more winter...
Friday, January 25, 2008
Fishing for Sounds
Since we finished 100 EZ Lessons on Tuesday (hooray for us!) we've been having a little fun during our reading lessons in the morning. I've been using Jessie Wise's The Ordinary Parent's Guide to Teaching Reading to reinforce and build on some of the basic lessons the sweet girl learned in 100 EZ. Right now she mostly needs practice to gain more reading confidence, and a chance to review and expand some sound combinations.
Wise's book has some lovely supplemental suggestions that help keep things fun. One suggestion I tried this week, which has been a smashing success, is a little "fishing game" she outlines in the lesson that teaches the digraph "NG."
This is a great way to reinforce the "NG" words -- those words that end in ING, ANG, ONG, and UNG. Below, I'm re-capping from Wise's directions on p. 115 of Ordinary Guide...and adding a few of my own comments.
Print each of those endings: ing, ang, ong, ung, on an index card.
Cut nine other cards in half and write one letter or letter combination on each card. You'll need h, b, f, r, s, p, cl, sl, w, k, d, z, sw, fl, br, g, and l
Clip a metal paperclip on each card.
Make a fishing pole! She suggested tying a piece of string to a pencil, then tying a small metal magnet to the other end of the string. We didn't have a small magnet with a hole, but we did have a roll of magnetic tape (handy thing to have around). We found that worked well -- just cut a small square of magnet off the roll, and use the "sticky" tape side of the magnet to attach it to the string.
Turn one of the ending cards (ing, ang, ong, ung) over so your child can see it. Then turn the half-size cards face down so she can't see the letter sounds. What you want the child to do is to "fish" with her pencil pole, pick up a card, and then put it front of the ending to form a word.
The letters you need for each "sea" are as follows:
For "ang" -- use the h b f r s p cl and sl cards
For "ing" -- use the w k d p r s z sw cl fl sl and br cards (this was our favorite set)
For "ong" -- use the b d g l and s cards
For "ung" -- use the h l r s fl sw and sl cards
What I liked most about this game (besides the fact that it was fun and my little girl responded to it so eagerly!) was how it helped her to visually see the formation of words from sound combinations. I also spent some time talking with S. about each of the words -- we tried using them in sentences, and we defined ones she wasn't sure about. That worked well too; this morning she casually used the word "cling" correctly in a sentence, and I'm pretty sure she'd never heard the word (or at least been aware of its meaning) until yesterday.
A fun exercise! I highly recommend this book as a supplementary resource for teaching reading.
Wise's book has some lovely supplemental suggestions that help keep things fun. One suggestion I tried this week, which has been a smashing success, is a little "fishing game" she outlines in the lesson that teaches the digraph "NG."
This is a great way to reinforce the "NG" words -- those words that end in ING, ANG, ONG, and UNG. Below, I'm re-capping from Wise's directions on p. 115 of Ordinary Guide...and adding a few of my own comments.
Print each of those endings: ing, ang, ong, ung, on an index card.
Cut nine other cards in half and write one letter or letter combination on each card. You'll need h, b, f, r, s, p, cl, sl, w, k, d, z, sw, fl, br, g, and l
Clip a metal paperclip on each card.
Make a fishing pole! She suggested tying a piece of string to a pencil, then tying a small metal magnet to the other end of the string. We didn't have a small magnet with a hole, but we did have a roll of magnetic tape (handy thing to have around). We found that worked well -- just cut a small square of magnet off the roll, and use the "sticky" tape side of the magnet to attach it to the string.
Turn one of the ending cards (ing, ang, ong, ung) over so your child can see it. Then turn the half-size cards face down so she can't see the letter sounds. What you want the child to do is to "fish" with her pencil pole, pick up a card, and then put it front of the ending to form a word.
The letters you need for each "sea" are as follows:
For "ang" -- use the h b f r s p cl and sl cards
For "ing" -- use the w k d p r s z sw cl fl sl and br cards (this was our favorite set)
For "ong" -- use the b d g l and s cards
For "ung" -- use the h l r s fl sw and sl cards
What I liked most about this game (besides the fact that it was fun and my little girl responded to it so eagerly!) was how it helped her to visually see the formation of words from sound combinations. I also spent some time talking with S. about each of the words -- we tried using them in sentences, and we defined ones she wasn't sure about. That worked well too; this morning she casually used the word "cling" correctly in a sentence, and I'm pretty sure she'd never heard the word (or at least been aware of its meaning) until yesterday.
A fun exercise! I highly recommend this book as a supplementary resource for teaching reading.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tracking Read-Alouds
Since I began "formally" homeschooling the sweet girl last August, we've read a number of longer read-aloud books, in addition to all the regular reading we do each day (picture books, Bible reading). Read-aloud time has become one of our favorite times of the day!
I've been keeping a running list of the books we've read together, but with the new calendar year upon us, I thought I would at least try a more creative approach to keeping a record of what we've read...one that will help "cement" the story and our shared experience of reading it more firmly in our minds.
I spent some time yesterday browsing some new blogs and websites that really nourished my homeschooling heart and mind. On one of the sites, the blogging parent/teacher is utilizing the Five in A Row books. I've got both Before Five In a Row and the first volume of FIAR on my shelves, and have used them as resources: good book recommendations, fun and creative teaching ideas. I've not used them fully as a curriculum unto themselves though, and it had been a while since I'd revisited them.
Seeing this woman's enthusiam for FIAR made me get them back out this morning. One of the things she mentioned doing was utilizing the "story disc" idea. FIAR provides little paper "buttons" or discs designed to represent each of the picture books they recommend. The idea is that your child can collect a series of discs with these simple pictures on them, and those will remind them of the books they've read and experienced. It's a fun idea.
I like the discs, but they've always seemed a bit small. This morning I got an idea to make a larger disc (tracing around one of our largest cups on colored cardstock). Just yesterday, the sweet girl and I finished reading Little House on the Prairie, the second book in Laura Ingalls Wilder's wonderful series about her pioneer family. I thought perhaps we could create a "disc" together -- on one side, we could paste a picture that represented the story for us, and on the other side, we could write the title, author, month/year we read the book, and the place we visited via our imagination through the book (in this case the prairie in Kansas territory).
The sweet girl really liked the idea. We found a photo of a mockingbird online, cut it out and pasted it onto the cardstock disc. We chose a mockingbird because Laura hears them a lot on the prairie, including in the final, poignant scene as they leave their little house and head back out into the prairie in their covered wagon. We spent some time reading about mockingbirds yesterday and listening to their call here.
I've not required formal "narrations" from the sweet girl during this, her kindergarten year, though we often talk about the stories we read. But I thought it might be fun if she could tell me something she liked and/or remembered about the book so we could write it down and keep that with the story disc. I'm trying to gently move her toward responding to story questions in fuller sentences, rather than just one or two words, or helping her to "think" in sentences more. I just planned to write down a sentence or two on regular paper, but my earlier search for an image of a covered wagon turned up this appropriate covered wagon journal page from a Laura Ingalls Wilder site. We had fun recording her thoughts on that page in colored pencil.
In the end, we had three things to put into the colorful plastic binder I've now designated our read-aloud notebook: the story disc, the journal page, and a neat map of Laura's travels we found online a few weeks ago (I can't remember where, unfortunately!) which we've been referring to from time to time as we read.
All this took only a few minutes, but it was great fun...it helped bring "closure" to a great read-aloud, and helped us think about why we enjoyed the book. I'm looking forward to adding to our notebook as we continue on this year.
This morning we started The Story of Dr. Doolittle!
I've been keeping a running list of the books we've read together, but with the new calendar year upon us, I thought I would at least try a more creative approach to keeping a record of what we've read...one that will help "cement" the story and our shared experience of reading it more firmly in our minds.
I spent some time yesterday browsing some new blogs and websites that really nourished my homeschooling heart and mind. On one of the sites, the blogging parent/teacher is utilizing the Five in A Row books. I've got both Before Five In a Row and the first volume of FIAR on my shelves, and have used them as resources: good book recommendations, fun and creative teaching ideas. I've not used them fully as a curriculum unto themselves though, and it had been a while since I'd revisited them.
Seeing this woman's enthusiam for FIAR made me get them back out this morning. One of the things she mentioned doing was utilizing the "story disc" idea. FIAR provides little paper "buttons" or discs designed to represent each of the picture books they recommend. The idea is that your child can collect a series of discs with these simple pictures on them, and those will remind them of the books they've read and experienced. It's a fun idea.
I like the discs, but they've always seemed a bit small. This morning I got an idea to make a larger disc (tracing around one of our largest cups on colored cardstock). Just yesterday, the sweet girl and I finished reading Little House on the Prairie, the second book in Laura Ingalls Wilder's wonderful series about her pioneer family. I thought perhaps we could create a "disc" together -- on one side, we could paste a picture that represented the story for us, and on the other side, we could write the title, author, month/year we read the book, and the place we visited via our imagination through the book (in this case the prairie in Kansas territory).
The sweet girl really liked the idea. We found a photo of a mockingbird online, cut it out and pasted it onto the cardstock disc. We chose a mockingbird because Laura hears them a lot on the prairie, including in the final, poignant scene as they leave their little house and head back out into the prairie in their covered wagon. We spent some time reading about mockingbirds yesterday and listening to their call here.
I've not required formal "narrations" from the sweet girl during this, her kindergarten year, though we often talk about the stories we read. But I thought it might be fun if she could tell me something she liked and/or remembered about the book so we could write it down and keep that with the story disc. I'm trying to gently move her toward responding to story questions in fuller sentences, rather than just one or two words, or helping her to "think" in sentences more. I just planned to write down a sentence or two on regular paper, but my earlier search for an image of a covered wagon turned up this appropriate covered wagon journal page from a Laura Ingalls Wilder site. We had fun recording her thoughts on that page in colored pencil.
In the end, we had three things to put into the colorful plastic binder I've now designated our read-aloud notebook: the story disc, the journal page, and a neat map of Laura's travels we found online a few weeks ago (I can't remember where, unfortunately!) which we've been referring to from time to time as we read.
All this took only a few minutes, but it was great fun...it helped bring "closure" to a great read-aloud, and helped us think about why we enjoyed the book. I'm looking forward to adding to our notebook as we continue on this year.
This morning we started The Story of Dr. Doolittle!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
"How Deep the Father's Love For Us"
This morning we had eight baptisms at church, including the sons of two families in our fellowship group, and one new family in our church that was baptized all together... four children, both parents.
There are moments when a basement sanctuary and a bathtub draped in cloth become such tangible places of grace and mercy and hope that it brings tears. God can take such ordinary stuff, such ordinary lives, and use them for his glory. Nothing, in his economy, is ever plain or throw-away or not worth loving. I am deeply grateful for that.
This was the hymn we sang at close of service:
How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory
Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished
I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom
(lyrics by Stuart Townend)
There are moments when a basement sanctuary and a bathtub draped in cloth become such tangible places of grace and mercy and hope that it brings tears. God can take such ordinary stuff, such ordinary lives, and use them for his glory. Nothing, in his economy, is ever plain or throw-away or not worth loving. I am deeply grateful for that.
This was the hymn we sang at close of service:
How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory
Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished
I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom
(lyrics by Stuart Townend)
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
"Snowflakes are Falling, Falling Very Gently"
The sweet girl has been warbling this snow song all day long (it's from one of her old Kindermusik CDs, which has songs about different kinds of weather). It's cold again, and indeed, snowing very gently.I took this picture of the stone angel across the street during one of our last beautiful snows. Several years ago, I named the two stone angels in the parking lot next to our building. I'm not sure if I remember which one is which, but I'm fairly certain this one is Patience. The other is Serenity.
Monday, January 14, 2008
2008 Newbery and Caldecott Awards Announced
One of the first things I did when I got to the computer this morning was to check recent news on Google so I could find out who won the Newbery and Caldecott awards. I was actually a few minutes early the first time I checked (beating the announcement in Philadelphia by about half an hour) but a couple refreshes of the page later brought me to the news.
I haven't read any of this year's winners yet, but they look like unusual and interesting choices.
The ALA website has now been updated with the full list of 2008 winners. The Newbery Medal book and honor books can be found here. The winner is Good Voices! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village by Laura Amy Schlitz (a school librarian herself in Baltimore). It's apparently 21 dramatic narratives/monologues that she originally wrote for students in her school to perform. Looks like a very creative way to learn about medieval times!
The Caldecott Medal book and honor books can be found here. The winner is, interestingly, not a picture book but a graphic novel of over 500 pages. It's called The Invention of Hugo Cabret and is written and illustrated by Brian Selznick. The story is set in a train station in 1931 Paris. The official description intrigues me no end: "In a work of more than 500 pages, the suspenseful text and wordless double-page spreads narrate the tale in turns. Neither words nor pictures alone tell this story, which is filled with cinematic intrigue. Black & white pencil illustrations evoke the flickering images of the silent films to which the book pays homage."
So there you have it...another year's worth of recommended reads. I've already begun reading at least one book I found on several "short lists" before the awards came out, and now I've got more books to add to my reading list!
I haven't read any of this year's winners yet, but they look like unusual and interesting choices.
The ALA website has now been updated with the full list of 2008 winners. The Newbery Medal book and honor books can be found here. The winner is Good Voices! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village by Laura Amy Schlitz (a school librarian herself in Baltimore). It's apparently 21 dramatic narratives/monologues that she originally wrote for students in her school to perform. Looks like a very creative way to learn about medieval times!
The Caldecott Medal book and honor books can be found here. The winner is, interestingly, not a picture book but a graphic novel of over 500 pages. It's called The Invention of Hugo Cabret and is written and illustrated by Brian Selznick. The story is set in a train station in 1931 Paris. The official description intrigues me no end: "In a work of more than 500 pages, the suspenseful text and wordless double-page spreads narrate the tale in turns. Neither words nor pictures alone tell this story, which is filled with cinematic intrigue. Black & white pencil illustrations evoke the flickering images of the silent films to which the book pays homage."
So there you have it...another year's worth of recommended reads. I've already begun reading at least one book I found on several "short lists" before the awards came out, and now I've got more books to add to my reading list!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
My Favorite Books of 2007 (Annotated List)
A couple of days ago, I posted my favorite books of 2007. Here's the list again, but with my comments regarding my choices!
Favorite Biography of the year: End of the Spear by Steve Saint
-- I blogged at some length about Saint’s book last fall, and also reviewed it on Epinions. Technically it’s probably more “memoir” than straight biography, but I think it qualifies for this category. What’s fascinating is that it’s not only a slice of Saint’s own life, but the biography of a people, a tribe heretofore pretty much unknown and misunderstood. And the best parts are all the many places where Saint’s story and the story of the Waodoni are inextricably intertwined.
Children’s biography of the year: Mary on Horseback by Rosemary Wells (runner-up: The Art of Eric Carle)
-- I’m coming to realize just how much I love biographies, which is why I need a separate children’s category. The sweet girl and I read Mary on Horseback in December, as a ‘read-aloud’ during school mornings. What an amazing story it told: of Mary Breckenridge, founder of the Frontier Nursing Service. I was a little afraid at first that the stories themselves would overwhelm my daughter, filled as they were with details about poverty and illness in the mountains, including diseases that rocked the lives of young children. But Wells told the stories well and sensitively, and they opened up avenues for gentle but important discussions about life as it was (and still is) for some families in our world.
--My runner-up is The Art of Eric Carle, a book that I enjoyed on several levels. The first section of the book was a straightforward biography of Carle, written primarily for adults (or possibly older children). It was interesting to read about his childhood in Germany and his subsequent coming to America as a young man, where he used his artistic skills in advertising before becoming what he terms a “picture-writer” for children. The second part of the book detailed some of Carle’s artistic techniques, which inspired me and the sweet girl to tissue paper and paint greatness!
Picture book author of the year: A tie between Shirley Hughes and Anna Dewdney
--I couldn’t choose just one, because both of these authors meant a lot to our family this year. Hughes has been a family favorite now for about three years, and her books are almost constants around here. She doesn’t seem to be writing as much now, but she did win the “Greenaway of Greenaways” this year for her wonderful book Dogger, another reason it just felt right to have her on this list. Anna Dewdney delighted my little girl by giving the world a sequel to Llama Llama Red Pajama, one of her favorite books of all time. Llama Llama Mad at Mama surprised me by proving to be almost as charming and funny – and just as big a hit in our family – as the first.
Best Devotional Book: God With Us by various authors (runner-up: Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner)
--This was a tough one. I didn’t find God With Us until late in the year. It came out in October, and I read it (as intended) during Advent and Christmas. The line-up of excellent writers made this a real gem, along with the gorgeous paintings included throughout. I was sad to have to return this one to the library. All the writers were good, but I was especially taken with the work of Scott Cairns, and now plan to try to find some of his other poetry and prose to read in the coming year.
--I chose Mudhouse Sabbath as a runner-up, both because I enjoyed the book very much, but even more because I enjoyed having a chance to attend an all day seminar with its author, Lauren Winner, back in June. As fine a writer as she is, I think she’s an even finer teacher. Her musings and reflections on Sabbath-keeping, and her unique perspective on that and other topics as an Orthodox Jew turned Christian (and Anglican) always make for interesting work. Given my own background growing up in an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, and my own growth in the Anglican tradition, I find her insights especially meaningful.
Best Novel I Read This Year: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
--This is not a cop-out. It’s just plain true. I can’t tell you how much I looked forward, for months and years, to the ending of Rowling’s seven-book saga. I laughed, fretted, worried, and cried through this fittingly powerful and satisfying ending. Seldom have I felt so exhilarated or so sad upon leaving a fictional world for the last time, except perhaps with Middle Earth and Narnia. And that’s high praise.
Besides the fact that I just plain loved the book and the series, I’ve also loved the conversations I’ve gotten involved in with many people in online communities who have shared a love for the books. These stories make people think as well as laugh and cry, and some of the conversations have been deep literary and spiritual ones. A gift to my year.
Best Novel I Re-Read This Year: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
--Yes, I know it’s a “children’s book” (but remember what Madeleine always said: it got turned down from countless publishers because they thought it was “too difficult” for children…and then when it finally got published, it turned out that the children “got it” far better than adults)! I’ve re-read Wrinkle so many times over the years that it’s like visiting with a very old, well-worn friend when I open the covers. This time out was especially poignant, however, as I read it a few weeks after Madeleine’s death in September. She is one of the most formative writers of my life, and I will miss her.
Best "pop culture" book: Unlocking Harry Potter: Five Keys for the Serious Reader by John Granger
--When I created this category last year, what I intended was to describe my favorite book that engaged, in creative and life-giving ways, some phenomena of popular culture, whether music, books, theater or movies. So this was almost a no-brainer this year. John Granger’s work on the alchemical literary framework of the Harry Potter stories has been a rich mine for several years. When I first began reading his work a few years ago, it opened the series up to me in new and vital ways, and helped me to understand more deeply how and why these books were speaking so powerfully to our age. His alchemical insights continue to deepen, and with this book he added new and interesting insights into the influence of postmodernism on Rowling’s work – how she is both clearly representative of that stance, and yet transcends it (and sometimes subverts it) by her melding of postmodern sensibilities and traditional symbolism. This book will, I think, be looked back on as the fountainhead of a golden age of Harry Potter literary criticism.
Not to mention that through his website and his correspondence, John Granger has inspired and helped to maintain much of the most fruitful, charitable and thoughtful conversation about the Harry Potter books to date. Thank you, John.
Favorite "new to me" children’s book, mid-grade reader (8-12 year old category): tie between Bella at Midnight by Diane Stanley; Princess Academy by Shannon Hale; and The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
--An impossibly hard category for me to choose a favorite in this year – just too much good stuff! If I had to choose between these three very wonderful but completely different books, I would choose Bella at Midnight, just because it has a timeless and classic quality about it. Which isn’t to say that the other two books won’t last. All three are just excellently told stories. Bella is fairy-tale/fantasy; Princess Academy more of a folk tale; and The Penderwicks is a lovely, old-fashioned family tale that reminded me Elizabeth Enright and other early 20th century writers. Fun and wholesome – the kind of book that makes you want to curl up in a window-seat (I still long for one!) on a rainy day in a big, old house that begs to be explored.
Favorite "new to me" young adult book (12-15 year old): tie between Rules by Cynthia Lord (I may be stretching, this might be considered mid-grade) and Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson
--Is Cynthia Lord’s award-winning Rules considered YA fiction? I think it should be. At any rate, however you “categorize” it, it’s just good reading…sensitive, authentic, creative. Hattie Big Sky was also terrific. I couldn’t choose between them, primarily because the first is so contemporary and the second historical (which tends to be my favorite kind of fiction). Both books worth adding to your shelves.
Best Children’s Book I Re-Read This Year: The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes
--This was a hard choice because the sweet girl and I read so many books together this year, including The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which sort of stands in a class by itself for me. I picked Estes’ because I loved it so much as a child, hadn’t read it a long while, and was nearly knocked off my feet again by its simplicity, elegance, and honesty. I remembered it was a good story. I just hadn’t remembered how good. She was quite an artist.
Favorite "new to me" picture book: Library Lion by Michelle Knudsen, illustrated by Kevin Hawkes
-- This is one of those books that a child can climb inside and inhabit. The world it creates – of a public library visited daily by a loveable, book-loving lion – is just a wonderful place to visit. The rhythm of the story feels close to perfect, and the characters are funny and memorable. Great illustrations. We read this one over and over, roaring with delight.
Book I Wish I Hadn’t Wasted My Time Reading: Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little by Peggy Gifford
--Hmm. I’ve been visiting some of the “mock Newbery” sites (various book groups, libraries, etc. speculating on their “short lists” of favorite books and getting ready for this Monday’s upcoming Newbery awards) and was surprised to see this had made a couple of lists. Maybe I was too hard on it when I reviewed it, but it really didn’t work for me, despite clever and creative photographs. Too much style, not enough substance. Children’s literature can do better than this. I’m thankful that it usually does.
Book I Should Have Finished (and still plan to): The History of the Ancient World by Susan Wise Bauer
--I’d actually like to change this category to “Book I Want to Finish” rather than “should.” I honestly don’t know when I would have had time to finish Bauer’s great tour of ancient history, but I’ve loved keeping this one by the bed and picking it up whenever I’m in the mood to step back – way, way back! – in time. Cogent, clear, stimulating reading.
The Book That Surprised Me Most: The Children’s Blizzard by David Laskin
--Wow. It’s hard to know what to say about this one. I almost listed it as my favorite “biography” this year, except it’s hard to know if one could really call it that. It’s not the story of one person as much as it is the story of a storm, a place, a time, and a developing American ethos on the frontier. I’m not sure what I expected from this book, but I was powerfully moved by it. Beautiful prose. And a book that’s inspired me to think about ways I might write history someday.
The Book That Made Me Laugh the Most: I can’t really think of one that made me laugh. Smile, yes, chortle, okay. Lots of things made me giggle with the sweet girl. But not one book really made me laugh. Yikes.
Book That Challenged Me the Most: (besides the Bible): End of the Spear by Steve Saint
--I listed the Bible in this category last year, but realized that I could list it every year! So next to the Bible, what reading challenged me most? I returned to Steve Saint’s journey in End of the Spear. What I found challenging: the depth of his trust in the sovereignty of a loving God; his patience in unfolding the “long view” of the story of his family (both his birth family and his adopted family, the Waodoni); the depth and power of forgiveness as it flows from God’s heart through one person to another person – and how that makes for peace.
And new categories this year:
Favorite new mystery writer: Joanne Fluke and her Hannah Swensen mysteries
--These are just fun, really fun! I’m looking forward to another one, so I hope Fluke is working on one. I’m also hoping that Fluke’s cookie-baking sleuth Hannah will finally see the light and choose the right beau. (Pssst….pick Norman, Hannah! You won’t be sorry!)
Favorite "new to me" Spiritual Resource/Bible for Children: The Big Picture Story Bible by Helm and Shoonmaker
--I keep meaning to review this over at Epinions. The sweet girl and I have read through it twice together, and it’s really grown on me. Unlike most children’s Bibles, this one does not just provide a “sampling” of stories from Old and New Testament, but a comprehensive sweep through the Scriptures with emphases on the promises of God and on certain important Biblical themes. It’s been a great teaching tool.
Favorite book of theological reflections: Evil and the Justice of God by N.T. Wright.
--This was not an easy read, but I think it was an important one, given the reality of evil and its presence both in history and in our world today. I didn’t mention a runner-up for this category, but realized later that I probably could: I really enjoyed Michael Card’s Sacred Sorrow, which especially gave me new insights into the book of Job.
Favorite Biography of the year: End of the Spear by Steve Saint
-- I blogged at some length about Saint’s book last fall, and also reviewed it on Epinions. Technically it’s probably more “memoir” than straight biography, but I think it qualifies for this category. What’s fascinating is that it’s not only a slice of Saint’s own life, but the biography of a people, a tribe heretofore pretty much unknown and misunderstood. And the best parts are all the many places where Saint’s story and the story of the Waodoni are inextricably intertwined.
Children’s biography of the year: Mary on Horseback by Rosemary Wells (runner-up: The Art of Eric Carle)
-- I’m coming to realize just how much I love biographies, which is why I need a separate children’s category. The sweet girl and I read Mary on Horseback in December, as a ‘read-aloud’ during school mornings. What an amazing story it told: of Mary Breckenridge, founder of the Frontier Nursing Service. I was a little afraid at first that the stories themselves would overwhelm my daughter, filled as they were with details about poverty and illness in the mountains, including diseases that rocked the lives of young children. But Wells told the stories well and sensitively, and they opened up avenues for gentle but important discussions about life as it was (and still is) for some families in our world.
--My runner-up is The Art of Eric Carle, a book that I enjoyed on several levels. The first section of the book was a straightforward biography of Carle, written primarily for adults (or possibly older children). It was interesting to read about his childhood in Germany and his subsequent coming to America as a young man, where he used his artistic skills in advertising before becoming what he terms a “picture-writer” for children. The second part of the book detailed some of Carle’s artistic techniques, which inspired me and the sweet girl to tissue paper and paint greatness!
Picture book author of the year: A tie between Shirley Hughes and Anna Dewdney
--I couldn’t choose just one, because both of these authors meant a lot to our family this year. Hughes has been a family favorite now for about three years, and her books are almost constants around here. She doesn’t seem to be writing as much now, but she did win the “Greenaway of Greenaways” this year for her wonderful book Dogger, another reason it just felt right to have her on this list. Anna Dewdney delighted my little girl by giving the world a sequel to Llama Llama Red Pajama, one of her favorite books of all time. Llama Llama Mad at Mama surprised me by proving to be almost as charming and funny – and just as big a hit in our family – as the first.
Best Devotional Book: God With Us by various authors (runner-up: Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner)
--This was a tough one. I didn’t find God With Us until late in the year. It came out in October, and I read it (as intended) during Advent and Christmas. The line-up of excellent writers made this a real gem, along with the gorgeous paintings included throughout. I was sad to have to return this one to the library. All the writers were good, but I was especially taken with the work of Scott Cairns, and now plan to try to find some of his other poetry and prose to read in the coming year.
--I chose Mudhouse Sabbath as a runner-up, both because I enjoyed the book very much, but even more because I enjoyed having a chance to attend an all day seminar with its author, Lauren Winner, back in June. As fine a writer as she is, I think she’s an even finer teacher. Her musings and reflections on Sabbath-keeping, and her unique perspective on that and other topics as an Orthodox Jew turned Christian (and Anglican) always make for interesting work. Given my own background growing up in an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, and my own growth in the Anglican tradition, I find her insights especially meaningful.
Best Novel I Read This Year: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
--This is not a cop-out. It’s just plain true. I can’t tell you how much I looked forward, for months and years, to the ending of Rowling’s seven-book saga. I laughed, fretted, worried, and cried through this fittingly powerful and satisfying ending. Seldom have I felt so exhilarated or so sad upon leaving a fictional world for the last time, except perhaps with Middle Earth and Narnia. And that’s high praise.
Besides the fact that I just plain loved the book and the series, I’ve also loved the conversations I’ve gotten involved in with many people in online communities who have shared a love for the books. These stories make people think as well as laugh and cry, and some of the conversations have been deep literary and spiritual ones. A gift to my year.
Best Novel I Re-Read This Year: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
--Yes, I know it’s a “children’s book” (but remember what Madeleine always said: it got turned down from countless publishers because they thought it was “too difficult” for children…and then when it finally got published, it turned out that the children “got it” far better than adults)! I’ve re-read Wrinkle so many times over the years that it’s like visiting with a very old, well-worn friend when I open the covers. This time out was especially poignant, however, as I read it a few weeks after Madeleine’s death in September. She is one of the most formative writers of my life, and I will miss her.
Best "pop culture" book: Unlocking Harry Potter: Five Keys for the Serious Reader by John Granger
--When I created this category last year, what I intended was to describe my favorite book that engaged, in creative and life-giving ways, some phenomena of popular culture, whether music, books, theater or movies. So this was almost a no-brainer this year. John Granger’s work on the alchemical literary framework of the Harry Potter stories has been a rich mine for several years. When I first began reading his work a few years ago, it opened the series up to me in new and vital ways, and helped me to understand more deeply how and why these books were speaking so powerfully to our age. His alchemical insights continue to deepen, and with this book he added new and interesting insights into the influence of postmodernism on Rowling’s work – how she is both clearly representative of that stance, and yet transcends it (and sometimes subverts it) by her melding of postmodern sensibilities and traditional symbolism. This book will, I think, be looked back on as the fountainhead of a golden age of Harry Potter literary criticism.
Not to mention that through his website and his correspondence, John Granger has inspired and helped to maintain much of the most fruitful, charitable and thoughtful conversation about the Harry Potter books to date. Thank you, John.
Favorite "new to me" children’s book, mid-grade reader (8-12 year old category): tie between Bella at Midnight by Diane Stanley; Princess Academy by Shannon Hale; and The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
--An impossibly hard category for me to choose a favorite in this year – just too much good stuff! If I had to choose between these three very wonderful but completely different books, I would choose Bella at Midnight, just because it has a timeless and classic quality about it. Which isn’t to say that the other two books won’t last. All three are just excellently told stories. Bella is fairy-tale/fantasy; Princess Academy more of a folk tale; and The Penderwicks is a lovely, old-fashioned family tale that reminded me Elizabeth Enright and other early 20th century writers. Fun and wholesome – the kind of book that makes you want to curl up in a window-seat (I still long for one!) on a rainy day in a big, old house that begs to be explored.
Favorite "new to me" young adult book (12-15 year old): tie between Rules by Cynthia Lord (I may be stretching, this might be considered mid-grade) and Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson
--Is Cynthia Lord’s award-winning Rules considered YA fiction? I think it should be. At any rate, however you “categorize” it, it’s just good reading…sensitive, authentic, creative. Hattie Big Sky was also terrific. I couldn’t choose between them, primarily because the first is so contemporary and the second historical (which tends to be my favorite kind of fiction). Both books worth adding to your shelves.
Best Children’s Book I Re-Read This Year: The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes
--This was a hard choice because the sweet girl and I read so many books together this year, including The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which sort of stands in a class by itself for me. I picked Estes’ because I loved it so much as a child, hadn’t read it a long while, and was nearly knocked off my feet again by its simplicity, elegance, and honesty. I remembered it was a good story. I just hadn’t remembered how good. She was quite an artist.
Favorite "new to me" picture book: Library Lion by Michelle Knudsen, illustrated by Kevin Hawkes
-- This is one of those books that a child can climb inside and inhabit. The world it creates – of a public library visited daily by a loveable, book-loving lion – is just a wonderful place to visit. The rhythm of the story feels close to perfect, and the characters are funny and memorable. Great illustrations. We read this one over and over, roaring with delight.
Book I Wish I Hadn’t Wasted My Time Reading: Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little by Peggy Gifford
--Hmm. I’ve been visiting some of the “mock Newbery” sites (various book groups, libraries, etc. speculating on their “short lists” of favorite books and getting ready for this Monday’s upcoming Newbery awards) and was surprised to see this had made a couple of lists. Maybe I was too hard on it when I reviewed it, but it really didn’t work for me, despite clever and creative photographs. Too much style, not enough substance. Children’s literature can do better than this. I’m thankful that it usually does.
Book I Should Have Finished (and still plan to): The History of the Ancient World by Susan Wise Bauer
--I’d actually like to change this category to “Book I Want to Finish” rather than “should.” I honestly don’t know when I would have had time to finish Bauer’s great tour of ancient history, but I’ve loved keeping this one by the bed and picking it up whenever I’m in the mood to step back – way, way back! – in time. Cogent, clear, stimulating reading.
The Book That Surprised Me Most: The Children’s Blizzard by David Laskin
--Wow. It’s hard to know what to say about this one. I almost listed it as my favorite “biography” this year, except it’s hard to know if one could really call it that. It’s not the story of one person as much as it is the story of a storm, a place, a time, and a developing American ethos on the frontier. I’m not sure what I expected from this book, but I was powerfully moved by it. Beautiful prose. And a book that’s inspired me to think about ways I might write history someday.
The Book That Made Me Laugh the Most: I can’t really think of one that made me laugh. Smile, yes, chortle, okay. Lots of things made me giggle with the sweet girl. But not one book really made me laugh. Yikes.
Book That Challenged Me the Most: (besides the Bible): End of the Spear by Steve Saint
--I listed the Bible in this category last year, but realized that I could list it every year! So next to the Bible, what reading challenged me most? I returned to Steve Saint’s journey in End of the Spear. What I found challenging: the depth of his trust in the sovereignty of a loving God; his patience in unfolding the “long view” of the story of his family (both his birth family and his adopted family, the Waodoni); the depth and power of forgiveness as it flows from God’s heart through one person to another person – and how that makes for peace.
And new categories this year:
Favorite new mystery writer: Joanne Fluke and her Hannah Swensen mysteries
--These are just fun, really fun! I’m looking forward to another one, so I hope Fluke is working on one. I’m also hoping that Fluke’s cookie-baking sleuth Hannah will finally see the light and choose the right beau. (Pssst….pick Norman, Hannah! You won’t be sorry!)
Favorite "new to me" Spiritual Resource/Bible for Children: The Big Picture Story Bible by Helm and Shoonmaker
--I keep meaning to review this over at Epinions. The sweet girl and I have read through it twice together, and it’s really grown on me. Unlike most children’s Bibles, this one does not just provide a “sampling” of stories from Old and New Testament, but a comprehensive sweep through the Scriptures with emphases on the promises of God and on certain important Biblical themes. It’s been a great teaching tool.
Favorite book of theological reflections: Evil and the Justice of God by N.T. Wright.
--This was not an easy read, but I think it was an important one, given the reality of evil and its presence both in history and in our world today. I didn’t mention a runner-up for this category, but realized later that I probably could: I really enjoyed Michael Card’s Sacred Sorrow, which especially gave me new insights into the book of Job.
Friday, January 11, 2008
There's a Wocket in the Hamper!
Great Suessian moment last night, as the sweet girl was getting ready for bath and bed.
She'd taken off her jeans and stuffed them in the clothes hamper to be washed. Then she came running up to me. "Mommy, there's a wocket in the hamper!"
"What?"
"There's a wocket in the hamper! He was in my pocket, but I took my pants off, so now he's in our hamper!"
She'd taken off her jeans and stuffed them in the clothes hamper to be washed. Then she came running up to me. "Mommy, there's a wocket in the hamper!"
"What?"
"There's a wocket in the hamper! He was in my pocket, but I took my pants off, so now he's in our hamper!"
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
My Favorite Books of 2007
Last year I posted a list of my favorite books, and I thought I would go ahead and make it an annual tradition! So here's the bare-bones list. Reflections/annotations sometime later this week.
Some quick notes/observations: this is a completely subjective list. The list is culled from books read during 2007. Not all of them (in fact, not many of them) were published in 2007. The categories are subjective too. I made them up last year and decided to try to repeat all of them again this year; I also added a couple more.
The thing that surprised me most upon reflecting on what I read this past year was how little literary or adult fiction I actually read. Almost all the fiction I read was for young people. However, I think I read more adult non-fiction than usual...it seems to be exciting my interest far more than adult fiction. And that's just fine...though if anyone wants to recommend some good fiction titles being written for adults, I'm primed to listen!
Without further ado, the list:
Favorite Biography of the year: End of the Spear by Steve Saint
Children’s biography of the year: Mary on Horseback by Rosemary Wells (runner-up: The Art of Eric Carle)
Picture book author of the year: A tie between Shirley Hughes and Anna Dewdney
Best Devotional Book: God With Us by various authors (runner-up: Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner)
Best Novel I Read This Year: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
Best Novel I Re-Read This Year: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Best "pop culture" book: Unlocking Harry Potter: Five Keys for the Serious Reader by John Granger
Favorite "new to me" children’s book, mid-grade reader (8-12 year old category): tie between Bella at Midnight by Diane Stanley; Princess Academy by Shannon Hale; and The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
Favorite "new to me" young adult book (12-15 year old): tie between Rules by Cynthia Lord (I may be stretching, this might be considered mid-grade) and Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson
Best Children’s Book I Re-Read This Year: The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes
Favorite "new to me" picture book: Library Lion by Michelle Knudsen, illustrated by Kevin Hawkes
Book I Wish I Hadn’t Wasted My Time Reading: Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little by Peggy Gifford
Book I Should Have Finished (and still plan to): The History of the Ancient World by Susan Wise Bauer
The Book That Surprised Me Most: The Children’s Blizzard by David Laskin
The Book That Made Me Laugh the Most: I can’t really think of one that made me laugh. Smile, yes, chortle, okay. Lots of things made me giggle with the sweet girl. But not one book really made me laugh. Yikes.
Book That Challenged Me the Most: (besides the Bible): End of the Spear by Steve Saint
And new categories this year:
Favorite new mystery writer: Joanne Fluke and her Hannah Swensen mysteries
Favorite "new to me" Spiritual Resource/Bible for Children: The Big Picture Story Bible by Helm and Shoonmaker
Favorite book of theological reflections: Evil and the Justice of God by N.T. Wright
Some quick notes/observations: this is a completely subjective list. The list is culled from books read during 2007. Not all of them (in fact, not many of them) were published in 2007. The categories are subjective too. I made them up last year and decided to try to repeat all of them again this year; I also added a couple more.
The thing that surprised me most upon reflecting on what I read this past year was how little literary or adult fiction I actually read. Almost all the fiction I read was for young people. However, I think I read more adult non-fiction than usual...it seems to be exciting my interest far more than adult fiction. And that's just fine...though if anyone wants to recommend some good fiction titles being written for adults, I'm primed to listen!
Without further ado, the list:
Favorite Biography of the year: End of the Spear by Steve Saint
Children’s biography of the year: Mary on Horseback by Rosemary Wells (runner-up: The Art of Eric Carle)
Picture book author of the year: A tie between Shirley Hughes and Anna Dewdney
Best Devotional Book: God With Us by various authors (runner-up: Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner)
Best Novel I Read This Year: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
Best Novel I Re-Read This Year: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
Best "pop culture" book: Unlocking Harry Potter: Five Keys for the Serious Reader by John Granger
Favorite "new to me" children’s book, mid-grade reader (8-12 year old category): tie between Bella at Midnight by Diane Stanley; Princess Academy by Shannon Hale; and The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
Favorite "new to me" young adult book (12-15 year old): tie between Rules by Cynthia Lord (I may be stretching, this might be considered mid-grade) and Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson
Best Children’s Book I Re-Read This Year: The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes
Favorite "new to me" picture book: Library Lion by Michelle Knudsen, illustrated by Kevin Hawkes
Book I Wish I Hadn’t Wasted My Time Reading: Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little by Peggy Gifford
Book I Should Have Finished (and still plan to): The History of the Ancient World by Susan Wise Bauer
The Book That Surprised Me Most: The Children’s Blizzard by David Laskin
The Book That Made Me Laugh the Most: I can’t really think of one that made me laugh. Smile, yes, chortle, okay. Lots of things made me giggle with the sweet girl. But not one book really made me laugh. Yikes.
Book That Challenged Me the Most: (besides the Bible): End of the Spear by Steve Saint
And new categories this year:
Favorite new mystery writer: Joanne Fluke and her Hannah Swensen mysteries
Favorite "new to me" Spiritual Resource/Bible for Children: The Big Picture Story Bible by Helm and Shoonmaker
Favorite book of theological reflections: Evil and the Justice of God by N.T. Wright
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
"Then They Made a Celebration."
The sweet girl and I have been reading Little House on the Prairie during our daily read-aloud times. Actually, we started the book in the car during our Christmas travels (poor Daddy often hears books started, then doesn't get to finish them with us once vacation is over!).
Today we actually went outside to read. We're having bizarrely spring like weather (well, everything but the smell is right!). It's WARM -- high sixties, and sunny. We went to the little bench next to the sycamore trees and enjoyed two more chapters. I figured we might as well enjoy it while we can, as I'm sure this odd weather won't last. It gives me mixed feelings...on the one hand, I'm unutterably grateful for warmth and sun in what can be one of the hardest times of the year for me to get through here because of cold and dark. On another level, part of my mind (the part that recently watched National Geographic's Arctic Tale perhaps?) is wondering how much of this strangely warm weather is due to climate changes.
At any rate, we're enjoying Little House. I've read the books so many times that I sometimes forget what comes where (they begin to blend together in my memory) so when a favorite moment sneaks up on me, it's a real pleasure. One those moments came today as we read chapter 15, "Fever n Ague," the chapter where the entire Ingalls family comes down with malaria, though they don't realize that's what it is.
One of my favorite lines comes in the scene following their recovery...they're all still thin and tired, but well at last. Pa has used some of his recuperation time to make Ma a beautiful rocking chair from willow saplings ("it's an ill wind that doesn't blow some good" he says cheerfully, an expression that was fun to unpack)! When the chair is done, Laura writes of her family, "Then they made a celebration."
Such a wonderful phrase, and such a great description of the tiny things they do to make this particular moment festive: Ma smooths back her hair and puts on her gold pin, the girls get out the Indian bead necklace they made for Baby Carrie and put it round her neck, and they and Pa get pillows and quilt from the bed to make the rocking chair as comfortable as possible for Ma. Ma and Carrie rock in the new chair, Pa brings out his fiddle and plays (always a treat, but especially so now since he hasn't been well enough to play since the mosquitoes started biting at the beginning of the chapter) and Mary and Laura, totally contented, sit and listen.
That's it...the whole "celebration." Next time I'm fussed about trying to make elaborate preparations for a family celebration, I think I should probably remember this. Sometimes it's the small, quiet, deliberate things we do, with a heart of gratitude and thankfulness, that make the best celebrations.
It's also wonderful for what the text doesn't say. Youngest listeners might not catch the nuance, but we oldsters reading these beautiful books for the umpteenth time don't miss moments like this. Those tears glistening in Ma's eyes aren't just because she's touched by the beautiful rocking chair Pa has made. The tears are there because she knows just how ill she and the rest of her family were, and she's thankful (as only perhaps a Ma or Pa can be) that they are all together, whole and healthy.
Perhaps there's always a reason, even in the hardest of times, to make a celebration!
Today we actually went outside to read. We're having bizarrely spring like weather (well, everything but the smell is right!). It's WARM -- high sixties, and sunny. We went to the little bench next to the sycamore trees and enjoyed two more chapters. I figured we might as well enjoy it while we can, as I'm sure this odd weather won't last. It gives me mixed feelings...on the one hand, I'm unutterably grateful for warmth and sun in what can be one of the hardest times of the year for me to get through here because of cold and dark. On another level, part of my mind (the part that recently watched National Geographic's Arctic Tale perhaps?) is wondering how much of this strangely warm weather is due to climate changes.
At any rate, we're enjoying Little House. I've read the books so many times that I sometimes forget what comes where (they begin to blend together in my memory) so when a favorite moment sneaks up on me, it's a real pleasure. One those moments came today as we read chapter 15, "Fever n Ague," the chapter where the entire Ingalls family comes down with malaria, though they don't realize that's what it is.
One of my favorite lines comes in the scene following their recovery...they're all still thin and tired, but well at last. Pa has used some of his recuperation time to make Ma a beautiful rocking chair from willow saplings ("it's an ill wind that doesn't blow some good" he says cheerfully, an expression that was fun to unpack)! When the chair is done, Laura writes of her family, "Then they made a celebration."
Such a wonderful phrase, and such a great description of the tiny things they do to make this particular moment festive: Ma smooths back her hair and puts on her gold pin, the girls get out the Indian bead necklace they made for Baby Carrie and put it round her neck, and they and Pa get pillows and quilt from the bed to make the rocking chair as comfortable as possible for Ma. Ma and Carrie rock in the new chair, Pa brings out his fiddle and plays (always a treat, but especially so now since he hasn't been well enough to play since the mosquitoes started biting at the beginning of the chapter) and Mary and Laura, totally contented, sit and listen.
That's it...the whole "celebration." Next time I'm fussed about trying to make elaborate preparations for a family celebration, I think I should probably remember this. Sometimes it's the small, quiet, deliberate things we do, with a heart of gratitude and thankfulness, that make the best celebrations.
It's also wonderful for what the text doesn't say. Youngest listeners might not catch the nuance, but we oldsters reading these beautiful books for the umpteenth time don't miss moments like this. Those tears glistening in Ma's eyes aren't just because she's touched by the beautiful rocking chair Pa has made. The tears are there because she knows just how ill she and the rest of her family were, and she's thankful (as only perhaps a Ma or Pa can be) that they are all together, whole and healthy.
Perhaps there's always a reason, even in the hardest of times, to make a celebration!
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Reading Round-Up, End of Year Edition
Well, here we are in the first days of 2008, and I still haven't listed the books I was busy reading in the final month or so of 2007. I thought I'd do one more reading round-up to cover that. I'm also busy trying to compile as full a list as possible of what I read during the whole year. From that, I'll pull my personal favorites list, which I hope to post sometime in the next week or so.
Reading time has been scant for the past six weeks or so, between holiday travels and end of semester grading. January looks to be plenty busy too, especially since I need to concentrate much of my reading/thinking time on the Church in England course I'll be teaching this semester. That goes online around the 24th, I think, so the reading list may look a bit heavy on English history for a while.
Currently reading:
The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander
C.S. Lewis, Poet by Don King
The Little House Reader compiled and edited by William Anderson
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott
Transforming Children into Spiritual Champions by George Barna
Recently read:
The Evolution of the English Churches (1500-2000) by Doreen Rosman
God With Us by various devotional writers including Richard John Neuhaus, Scott Cairns, Luci Shaw, Kathleen Norris, and Emilie Griffin
The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
Some other children's literature not nearly as good as the above :-)
Homeschool "stuff":
Pulling from The Ordinary Parent's Guide to Teaching Reading by Jessie Wise and Susan Buffington (for some further lessons and reinforcement as the sweet girl finishes up work in 100 Easy Lessons soon)
Also printing out a downloadable copy of a fascinating Reading Primer by Harriette Taylor Treadwell and Margaret Free, copyright 1910. I plan to have the sweet girl read through the nine stories collected there during this coming spring. Some of the stories included are "The Little Red Hen," "The Gingerbread Boy," and "Chicken Little." I love finding old but terrific resources like this!
Current Favorites on the Sweet Girl's Shelf:
Llama, Llama Mad at Mama by Anna Dewdney
The Twelve Days of Christmas illustrated by Jan Brett
Reading time has been scant for the past six weeks or so, between holiday travels and end of semester grading. January looks to be plenty busy too, especially since I need to concentrate much of my reading/thinking time on the Church in England course I'll be teaching this semester. That goes online around the 24th, I think, so the reading list may look a bit heavy on English history for a while.
Currently reading:
The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander
C.S. Lewis, Poet by Don King
The Little House Reader compiled and edited by William Anderson
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott
Transforming Children into Spiritual Champions by George Barna
Recently read:
The Evolution of the English Churches (1500-2000) by Doreen Rosman
God With Us by various devotional writers including Richard John Neuhaus, Scott Cairns, Luci Shaw, Kathleen Norris, and Emilie Griffin
The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
Some other children's literature not nearly as good as the above :-)
Homeschool "stuff":
Pulling from The Ordinary Parent's Guide to Teaching Reading by Jessie Wise and Susan Buffington (for some further lessons and reinforcement as the sweet girl finishes up work in 100 Easy Lessons soon)
Also printing out a downloadable copy of a fascinating Reading Primer by Harriette Taylor Treadwell and Margaret Free, copyright 1910. I plan to have the sweet girl read through the nine stories collected there during this coming spring. Some of the stories included are "The Little Red Hen," "The Gingerbread Boy," and "Chicken Little." I love finding old but terrific resources like this!
Current Favorites on the Sweet Girl's Shelf:
Llama, Llama Mad at Mama by Anna Dewdney
The Twelve Days of Christmas illustrated by Jan Brett
Bless the LORD, O my soul...
and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
who satisfies you with good so that your youth
is renewed like the eagle's.
The LORD works righteousness and justice
for all who are oppressed.
He made known his ways to Moses,
his acts to the people of Israel.
The LORD is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding steadfast love.
He will not always chide,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love
toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.
~Psalm 103: 2-14 (ESV)
A blessed and happy new year!
who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
who satisfies you with good so that your youth
is renewed like the eagle's.
The LORD works righteousness and justice
for all who are oppressed.
He made known his ways to Moses,
his acts to the people of Israel.
The LORD is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding steadfast love.
He will not always chide,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love
toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.
~Psalm 103: 2-14 (ESV)
A blessed and happy new year!
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