It's spring break time at my son's daycare center so they are in babysitting mode for their regular kids and the alumni who come back during school breaks so mom and dad can still work. They don't work on letters, numbers, reading, and the other "regular" stuff of his day. Instead they watch movies or have special visitors give presentations to the whole assembly.
Yesterday there was a presentation by an animal expert. She brought in pelts, skins, and a lot of knowledge. Did you know rhinoceros sweat is pink so they won't get burned by the sun? When the woman asked how do rhinos keep cool E's hand was the only one to go up. There were alumni there that were 6 or 7 years old and my 3 year old was the only one who knew the answer. "They roll in the mud." The presenter and all the teachers were amazed. When the director of the school told me about it I was so proud, but not all that amazed at his performance he had some clues before he got to school that day.
Clue #1. Last weekend E went to his first play ever. It was "Rikki Tikki Tavi and other Just So Stories" by Rudyard Kipling. Four actors presented 3 stories with multiple characters. They used elaborate wire hats to be the various animals in "The Elephant's Child", "How the Camel got it's Hump" and "Rikki Tikki Tavi". In the "The Elephant's Child" after she had a trunk the baby elephant shlooped up some mud and put it on her head to keep herself cool.
Clue #2. I am taking a children's writing course and one of my assignments is to read 25 picture books a week. E loves this assignment. In the book "The Perfect Name" Mama and Papa Potumus have to find the perfect name for their little one. At one point in the book little one is completely covered in mud. We read this book within the week of the presentation.
Clue #3. We woke up early yesterday. We decided we would go for a walk at the Schaumburg Park District's Volkening Farm. I wanted to go see the pigs, he wanted to see the horse, we both agreed we'd stop and see the chickens and turkeys. On the way we talked about pigs and mud and why they roll around in it.
The Park doesn't open until 8am and we were there a few minutes too early and couldn't get into the parking lot. We were on our way to a grocery store so we could get food for dinner when E yelled, "There's a park." I pulled the car over. We got out and took off down the paved walk way. There was very little to do but look at a lot of grass, it turned out to be a nine-whole disc (frisbee) golf course. We walked up a small hill and, being taller than a 3 year old, I saw the bright yellow of the playground equipment first. I made the exaggerated excited face and he begged me to let him in on the excitement. "Just wait," I said, "You'll see."
When we reached the crest he saw the playground too and the genuine excitement on his face was better than any act I could put on. We let go of each other's hands and ran to the playground our arms waving in the air like we were riding a rollercoaster, or like crazed lunatics. We climbed up the stairs and walked across the wiggly bridges they he rode down the tube slide and climbed back up to the top. He slid down the twisty slide and fell off the end. He called me to come down and instead of taking the stairs like an adult would I took the twisty slide. If there was ever a doubt whether dew was wet or whether it collected on plastic slides it ended on that ride.
E arrived at school that day with a wet butt and a head full of clues as to how a rhinoceros may keep cool. He's got a great memory and a real knack for making the connection between one animal and another, even from animals to humans. We have on tape an episode of "Zooboomafoo" a kid's show about animals on PBS. The hosts, Chris and Martin Kratt, talked about kangaroo's eyelashes keeping dust and sand out of the animal's eyes. One day, a week or so after seeing the episode, E was touching his eyelids at dinner. Then he announced that his eyelashes keep dust and sand out of his eyes. I asked who told him that. "Chris and Martin," he said matter-of-factly. I'm so proud of him and amazed by his memory.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
What to write about
In class last night our teacher told us not to use email or text message shorthand. It's not proper English and shouldn't be used. Period. It's not good to write for a group learning to read by using misspelled or made up words (though if it's good enough for Shakespeare it should be good enough for me, not that I would ever compare myself to the bard).
Today E was telling me that I won the race and my prize was a toy. "What color is the toy?" I asked.
"It's purpleyish, greenyish, red." I know those words have never, and probably will never, appear in a dictionary but I loved them. He has started to tell more and more stories. The adventures of Buzz Lightyear, Mr. Incredible and Peri Po, his stuffed dinosaur are so cute. I am tempted at times to write them down but I can't get to it when he tells me the stories and I forget them by the time I have pad and paper.
Last night CC also told us to think about the kinds of books we liked as kids. We didn't own many books and they were almost all gifts from people other than my parents. Let's see, there were the Little Golden Books: The Little Engine That Could and The Me Too Book. There was the big book of Richard Scary stories and pictures. My grandmother gave me a collection of Grimm's Fairy Tales that I barely cracked open, we read it now, 30 years later. My aunt and uncle gave my sister and me a large picture book of a foreign folk tale. Mine was a Chinese story about an emperor and a nightingale, my sister got some Russian story. I can see still see the illustrations but the text or even the plot lines are a mystery to me now. I have been trying to find those books at my Dad's whenever I go home but they are just no where to be found.
CC also told us write about what interests us. I have been trying to figure out what that is and I've decided it's not conducive to the picture book genre. I like histories, mysteries and reference or factual information. I love genealogy and think I may use long dead members of my family as a jumping off point for easy readers about historical events, settings, etc.
I have a relative that was in the US Civil War, one from the Spanish American War, even relatives that were here for the Revolutionary War, but as Quakers the likelihood they participated is pretty slim. I could research and then write the Cumberland trail stories of the O'Keefes or the Sester's journey across the sea from Germany.
Whatever I write I want it to entertain, excite, and educate E. I want him to know about our family and see that history can be interesting, especially when you have a connection to it, relatively speaking.
____
The sun is warm on the shoulders of the groups gathered on the hill. The grass is so green and the cloudless sky so blue that the floral prints and tie-dyed clothing of the revelers seem dull by comparison. A soft breeze blows gauzy fabrics and long hair through the air and across bare skin. Music and sweet smoke drift by. Grapes burst in an explosion of tart sweetness in my mouth. It is finally summer.
______
I was much too young for Haight Ashbury, a toddler during the summer of love, but I have always imagined being in San Francisco sitting with a view of the bay, and I have always imagined it this way. Perhaps it's the influence of the opening credits of "Full House", perhaps it's the grainy films of hippies they show in documentaries.
At midnight it doesn't much matter. I need to get some sleep and hopefully I will dream of this scene, enjoy grapes and a bit of music.
K
Today E was telling me that I won the race and my prize was a toy. "What color is the toy?" I asked.
"It's purpleyish, greenyish, red." I know those words have never, and probably will never, appear in a dictionary but I loved them. He has started to tell more and more stories. The adventures of Buzz Lightyear, Mr. Incredible and Peri Po, his stuffed dinosaur are so cute. I am tempted at times to write them down but I can't get to it when he tells me the stories and I forget them by the time I have pad and paper.
Last night CC also told us to think about the kinds of books we liked as kids. We didn't own many books and they were almost all gifts from people other than my parents. Let's see, there were the Little Golden Books: The Little Engine That Could and The Me Too Book. There was the big book of Richard Scary stories and pictures. My grandmother gave me a collection of Grimm's Fairy Tales that I barely cracked open, we read it now, 30 years later. My aunt and uncle gave my sister and me a large picture book of a foreign folk tale. Mine was a Chinese story about an emperor and a nightingale, my sister got some Russian story. I can see still see the illustrations but the text or even the plot lines are a mystery to me now. I have been trying to find those books at my Dad's whenever I go home but they are just no where to be found.
CC also told us write about what interests us. I have been trying to figure out what that is and I've decided it's not conducive to the picture book genre. I like histories, mysteries and reference or factual information. I love genealogy and think I may use long dead members of my family as a jumping off point for easy readers about historical events, settings, etc.
I have a relative that was in the US Civil War, one from the Spanish American War, even relatives that were here for the Revolutionary War, but as Quakers the likelihood they participated is pretty slim. I could research and then write the Cumberland trail stories of the O'Keefes or the Sester's journey across the sea from Germany.
Whatever I write I want it to entertain, excite, and educate E. I want him to know about our family and see that history can be interesting, especially when you have a connection to it, relatively speaking.
____
The sun is warm on the shoulders of the groups gathered on the hill. The grass is so green and the cloudless sky so blue that the floral prints and tie-dyed clothing of the revelers seem dull by comparison. A soft breeze blows gauzy fabrics and long hair through the air and across bare skin. Music and sweet smoke drift by. Grapes burst in an explosion of tart sweetness in my mouth. It is finally summer.
______
I was much too young for Haight Ashbury, a toddler during the summer of love, but I have always imagined being in San Francisco sitting with a view of the bay, and I have always imagined it this way. Perhaps it's the influence of the opening credits of "Full House", perhaps it's the grainy films of hippies they show in documentaries.
At midnight it doesn't much matter. I need to get some sleep and hopefully I will dream of this scene, enjoy grapes and a bit of music.
K
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
The Discombobulated Duke
Today is the first day of the rest of your life and the first day of 8 weeks of daily writing for me. I just started a children's writing class. My teacher is Carolyn Crimi (heretofore known as CC) who has written (and published) several picture books including Boris and Bella, Henry and the Buccaneer Bunnies, Don't Need Friends, Tessa's Tip-tapping Toes, Louds Move In!, Get Busy, Beaver! and Outside, Inside.
CC talked about where inspiration comes from for different people, for some it's while baking, other are inspired while marching to that swinging Sousa beat, still others get inspired while washing their hair in the shower. (I fall in to the latter category -- always thought of it as "watering the seeds of an idea"). Apparently I also get going when I am alone in the car, I say this because a lot of the inital words for the following story came on the drive home.
While she was talking I wondered what a lecture by Aunt P would be like. The only physical similarities I can see are they are both women but there was a quality, an essence almost, that reminded me Aunt P.
E will love one of my assignments, read 25 picture books a week. At the end of class we all wrote two words on a piece of paper and then threw them in a hat. We all then drew 2 words out and were encouraged (not assigned but encouraged) to write a story using those words. My first word was "discombobulated." The second word was not as easy to read, the first letter could have been a "P" or a "D". I will go with "D" as it makes for better alliteration.
So here is a rough off the top version of The Discombobulated Duke.
At 7 o'clock each morning the residents of Aquaint held valuables still on their shelves, readied themselves for a few minutes of picture straightening or covered the ears of sleeping babies. The villagers lived in the shadow of Wellborne Manor and each morning Duke Percival Wellborne would scream with frustration, "Argh!"
The Duke's hands were not built for butttons and he was unable to dress himself each morning. Servants stationed themselves outside his door awaiting the call for help. Percival didn't like being helped by servants especially for something as personal as getting dressed and he was always very vocal about his likes and dislikes.
The Duke's legs were rather short and his belly rather round and when he stood up, from a distance, he looked a bit like a tennis ball propped up on a pair of toothpicks. He tottered to the stables each morning after breakfast for his morning ride and grumbled quite loudly about the size of the horses and the difficulties mounting the beasts. "The horses have grown much too tall, what have you been feeding them?"
Percival liked to impress people with his large library containing vast amounts of knowledge on many subjects. He would invite visitors into the library and if they suggested he turn the book he was reading right-side-up he would reply, "Where's the challenge in that?"
___
OK I'm really tired. I'm still sick and need rest and the Duke is more disagreeable and disgruntled than discombobulated so I will try again tomorrow.
CC talked about where inspiration comes from for different people, for some it's while baking, other are inspired while marching to that swinging Sousa beat, still others get inspired while washing their hair in the shower. (I fall in to the latter category -- always thought of it as "watering the seeds of an idea"). Apparently I also get going when I am alone in the car, I say this because a lot of the inital words for the following story came on the drive home.
While she was talking I wondered what a lecture by Aunt P would be like. The only physical similarities I can see are they are both women but there was a quality, an essence almost, that reminded me Aunt P.
E will love one of my assignments, read 25 picture books a week. At the end of class we all wrote two words on a piece of paper and then threw them in a hat. We all then drew 2 words out and were encouraged (not assigned but encouraged) to write a story using those words. My first word was "discombobulated." The second word was not as easy to read, the first letter could have been a "P" or a "D". I will go with "D" as it makes for better alliteration.
So here is a rough off the top version of The Discombobulated Duke.
At 7 o'clock each morning the residents of Aquaint held valuables still on their shelves, readied themselves for a few minutes of picture straightening or covered the ears of sleeping babies. The villagers lived in the shadow of Wellborne Manor and each morning Duke Percival Wellborne would scream with frustration, "Argh!"
The Duke's hands were not built for butttons and he was unable to dress himself each morning. Servants stationed themselves outside his door awaiting the call for help. Percival didn't like being helped by servants especially for something as personal as getting dressed and he was always very vocal about his likes and dislikes.
The Duke's legs were rather short and his belly rather round and when he stood up, from a distance, he looked a bit like a tennis ball propped up on a pair of toothpicks. He tottered to the stables each morning after breakfast for his morning ride and grumbled quite loudly about the size of the horses and the difficulties mounting the beasts. "The horses have grown much too tall, what have you been feeding them?"
Percival liked to impress people with his large library containing vast amounts of knowledge on many subjects. He would invite visitors into the library and if they suggested he turn the book he was reading right-side-up he would reply, "Where's the challenge in that?"
___
OK I'm really tired. I'm still sick and need rest and the Duke is more disagreeable and disgruntled than discombobulated so I will try again tomorrow.
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