What were your favorite children's books?

                                              

Journals Editor Jeff at Magic Smoke is passing on the weekend assignment normally given by John Scalzi, but since John is having some technical problems, he asked Jeff to post it at his site. The assignment question is "what were your favorite children's books?"

My favorite children's books from when I was a child, or my favorite children's books now? Were being a key word, I suppose he's talking about back then, when I was a kid. 

I don't have any pictures of those favorite books. But I do have some favorites now, with picture above.

First, my favorites from long ago...

When I was a little child, my mother read to us the classics. At night, before we fell asleep. I don't know for how long she did this. Recently, I told her that I remembered her reading stories to us at night.

She said "I did?" 

Not the response I expected.

"Yeah, mom, don't you remember?" I queried her. "You bought a set of the classics... that's what you called them. And you would read a chapter or two each night. When you finished a chapter, I would ask you to keep reading. And every night I would look forward to you reading another chapter. I could picture everything as you read. Don't you remember?"

Her surprised look and thoughtful gaze past my head told me she did not remember.

She had to remember! It was one of my fondest memories, something none of my other siblings remember. I wanted them to know that she did this for us,once upon a time. When we were very small. Before any of us could read.

"Mom, you have to remember... Black Beauty.... Swiss Family Robinson... the one about the girl who lived in the Alps with her grandfather...Heidi..."

Mom just grinned. "Well if you say I did, maybe I did. That was a long time ago."

"Well, mom, I just wanted you to know that those stories are the reason I came to love reading. I loved those books. I'm so glad you took the time to read them to us."

But mom had seven children. She was always busy doing something... she probably didn't read to us out loud at bedtime for long... there was always a baby in the house after I was born until after the seventh baby was born.... for eleven years my mother had a baby in the house, along with a toddler or two. Maybe she didn't read to us out loud at our bedtime, but then, who did?

Was it my imagination, then? Could this fond memory of my mother reading to us at bedtime when I was very young be a distortion of time? Maybe what I really remember is me reading to myself... which means I wasn't very small. I would have been at least in fifth or sixth grade to be able to read such classics.

When I think about it, would a five year old really listen to and understand the words from these books, enough to visualize the story, enough to really appreciate them? I guess it's possible. Just hearing one's mother's gentle and melodic voice at a time of day when you are about to drop off to sleep is probably enough to create warm childhood memories.

Hmmmm, now I'm beginning to wonder if my childhood memories have all been remolded in my mind to accommodate images that I treasure most. Like of mothers reading to their youngsters.

Just for the record, for my son's memories, that really was me reading out loud to you, son. I remember all your favorite books, and when you outgrew them, I didn't give your favorites away. I saved those for your own children one day. I still have them, the fragilest ones are packed away, and the sturdier ones are in my classroom, charming more minds and hearts.

I would have saved them all had I had an inkling that I would become a teacher later in life. When I think of all the Zoo Books and Ranger Ricks that I gave away! And all those story books I bought... my first and second graders would have loved them all.

Favorites today? Chris van Allsburg books, as I've mentioned in previous entries.

And the following of some familiar authors, maybe some not so familiar titles. I'm not going to write a blurb about each book tonight due to the time, but will come back tomorrow to edit this entry with more info about each title. I'm fighting off a cold this evening, so please forgive me!       

                                                                   

                                                                    The Master Puppeteer by Katherine Paterson.

                                                            

Gathering Blue by Lois Lowry. A lame girl, shunned by her people when her mother dies, is taken from her familiar homeplace to live amongst a ruling class. They want her for her creative weaving skills. She gains privileges, and life seems to be an improvement until she begins to learn the truth about her world. The title refers to her search for the plant that will produce the color blue, a rare color among the people she is forced to live with and work for. If you read and enjoyed The Giver, you will also like this book.

                                                           

Fish by L.S. Matthews. The curiosity behind this book is the question: Is Tiger, the story's child protagonist, a boy or a girl? It doesn't seem to matter in this story about Tiger and his/her English family as they flee a war-ravaged land, seeking safety and rescue for themselves. They do not leave until the last possible moment, making sure that all the other villagers have fled first. With their lives in danger, they are joined by the mysterious Guide and his donkey. Tiger rescues a little fish from the mud pond before the little group treks across the dry and desolate, mountainous landscape. The survival of the fish, reflecting their own struggle to survive the events that threaten their lives, becomes a primary concern as they are driven to reach their destination. Hope is the theme of this story.      

                                                           

The Thief  by Megan Whalen Turner. Kate might be interested in this tale because the author borrows bits and pieces of Greek history and location to tell the story of a young man, a thief, who must steal a treasure, or die. Gen sets out on the quest with a small band of companions, and along the dangerous way he learns about their skills, and they learn something about him. By the end, the reader receives the greatest gift: a well-turned story! It's for the young adult, but I must say I enjoyed it very much. I'm ordering the sequel to it today, despite the fact that I read The Thief two years ago. Ms. Turner is a clever writer.

These selections are not really written for the 8-10 year old, but possibly the older teenager. They need a good selection to choose from as well. The above are excellent choices for teens. More tomorrow.

Misty shows her approval of my new classroom.

I went to school today for a few hours of planning. A necessary event. I would have gone in Saturday instead, but there was that five and a half hours of community breakfast work that tired me out early. I decided to do my weekly planning today instead. It was a trade-off. Sometimes you have to juggle the commitments.

Anyway, that isn't why I'm posting so late at night. I was about to go to bed when I realized I had downloaded some pictures I took today in my classroom.

I brought with me some company today. A couple of my dearest and smallest buddies. I must sadly desert them every day to go to work. On weekends, I take them with me. I leave them at home when my husband is home, but when he is working on the weekends, they go with me. To school.

Here are the latest photos of my classroom, sans children.

                                   

Do you see my little companion? In the back, on the floor, in front of the bookcase to the left? Yeah, you see her now, don't you?

                                                           

This wouldn't be such an amazing photograph if you didn't know that the last three times I have brought Misty with me for a weekend planning session, she trembled anxiously the entire time she was there. Each time, I would have to take her home, then drive back to school to finish my work.

                                                               

She takes awhile adjusting to new environments. In the photo above, taken while I was moving into my classroom back in August, she is actually trembling, and trying to get into my closet. She seems to dislike the openness of the classroom. She repeated that behavior each time I brought her to my classroom.

Until today. Today, she obviously was able to relax. I even caught her napping. I am thrilled! This means she can come anytime to keep me company on the weekends while I work.

Max never had a problem with the transition. He just goes where I go. He'd follow me into a raging river if I called him to me. He completely trusts me. I love that dog!

                                   

And one last shot of the two of  them together. I did get a lot of work done today.

                                  

J-Land Convention to be at Myrtle Beach, SC!

Are you aware that there are plans underway to have a J-Land Convention, where the community of journalers would meet in person?

It is scheduled for March 23-26. It will be at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

If you want to go, you will need to let Gina, Motoxmom, J-Land Convention, know. She needs to know by December 1 for sure if you are going. To make the hotel reservations, she needs at least fifty people making the commitment. There's a convention commitment entry, with instructions about how to add your commitment to the spreadsheet.

You can vote on which hotel to stay in, but votes need to be in by November 10th.

You can read about the two hotel choices in this entry, to help you decide which one you prefer before you vote.

And here you can read about a few of the plans underway.

I won't be able to go, but apparently, there are many others going, even from as far away as UK!

 

Why do I keep a blog?

And one more entry before I fall into the comfort of my bed this Saturday evening.

Kate, An Analysis of Life, has written an entry about 17th century diaries. It's interesting, and historical, as most of her entries are.

The reason I'm mentioning this particular entry is because at the end she poses a question to us. Here are her last words of the entry:

More about 17th century diaries in the next entry...

In the meantime, have a think about why you write your blog/diary. Do an entry on your personal reasons for blogging and come back here and leave a link. Are we all that different from 17th century diarists?

As it happens, I've already written an entry on the topic. If you would like to read it in its entirety, it is in the archives, October 8, 2005. If you would rather not bother, here is an excerpt from that entry, which answers the question why I keep a journal. When I answered, I was writing about keeping a paper journal, not the web version, which are different in content, depth, and purpose.

Here, the excerpt:

Thoughts are sacred. To write of them is a sacred act as well. When one writes of them, one has to lay them out first, as cards on the table, exposed, and regard them all, the good, the bad, and the ugly. One then tries to make sense of these thoughts, organize them, decide which ones to hold and which ones to let go, which ones to table for another writing session, and which ones demand immediate attention. The danger comes when something written is taken out of context. Such preliminary, organizational thinking can be misread or misinterpreted by another. Often the polished piece is never written. Meanwhile, the journaler has discovered the solution and implemented it in her life, which does go on, leaving some pages of the book unwritten. But the journaling itself is whatled her to the answer.

I suppose the thing to do would be to write one’s disappointments, fears, sorrows, and other disturbances on paper, then burn it. That solves the problem of privacy, doesn’t it?

However, the journaler has an agenda. A person on the course of journaling is trying to solve the great mystery of life, to answer the questions of life, unravel the knots of daily interactions. Every person is on such a course, whether they realize it or not. We are all searching for answers, and the quality of the answer can only be measured by the quality of the question. We each have questions that we are asking of ourselves, whether we send them out to the universal cosmos, keep them shut inside and never reveal them, or address them to God. They are the big questions: Who am I? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do with this life that was given me? Where will all this living take me?

But clearly I have not answered her question. I only wrote about why I write in my (paper) journal, but not why I keep a blog. The blog has replaced the paper journal for now... I don't know for how long I can stay away from my composition books and pens, for I truly love the act or process of writing.

Although, typing has its advantages, like the ability to have a clean piece free of errors, and the ability to edit at any time without crossing out or whiting out, what I miss most about the paper journal is my ability to draw in them. I can't draw in the blog. Oh, I can find cute and whimsical tags that others have created to decorate the webpages, but I can't add my own illustrations, my own creative response to something that moves me, unless I draw them first and scan them. I have no scanner at this time, so that is out.

And even if I could add my own illustrations, my own illuminations, is that something I want to open to the public?

Why do I blog then? Because, I think, I like having an audience! And I write differently for an audience. I like how I write when I know someone is going to read it. I think I'm a better writer when someone else is going to regard my words. And, there's the response factor. I am interested in what other's have to say about whatever topic I bring up. I like the interaction of blogging.

But, I'm not giving up the pen and paper journal!

I don't think we are so different from the 17th century diarists after all, except as bloggers, we do have the live audience and comment features which they didn't have.

 

Tags: Journaling, diaries, writing

Max and Misty and Homemade Dog Shampoo

Back in August, about the time I was asked to be a Guest Editor here at aoljournals, I had added the following picture to one of my entries that week. My dogs were in dire need of a complete grooming, which for mini-schnauzers means more than a bath and a brushing. I know several of you out there have mini-schnauzers, so you know what I mean.

                                    

Grooming my babies takes at least an hour for each dog, if I count the bath time. Each dog has their personal likes and dislikes about grooming. First, the bath. They both hate getting wet all over, but Misty dislikes it more than Max. He will at least jump into the tub on his own when I direct him to. Misty, on the other hand, will hide behind or under a piece of furniture when she knows it's bath time, and has even tried running out of the house through the doggie door, which gets her nowhere because that leads to the front deck from which there is no exit to the yard.

 Max waits for his bath.

Grooming always begins with a bath. I make my own shampoo, a recipe handed to me from a veterinarian about thirteen years ago. Just before I began writing this entry, I decided to check the internet for homemade dog shampoo recipes, and voila, I found the recipe that was given to me, so I feel comfortable passing it on to my readers who might want a less expensive dog shampoo that is effective, gentle to the skin, and eliminates the worst of odors.

Homemade Dog Shampoo:

1 part Ivory or Dove liquid (clear) dishwashing soap,

 1 part water,

 1 part vinegar,

 1 part glycerine (you can buy it at the pharmacy, and sometimes I have found it at the grocery store... in little plastic brown bottles).

Actually, I changed the recipe from the one on the internet because the one given to me was written the way I have it written here. I usually start with two  4oz. bottles of glycerin, then measure the rest accordingly (8oz Ivory, 8oz vinegar, 8oz. water), but you can start with whatever amounts you wish.

I mix all the ingredients together and pour it into an empty quart-sized container, like a plastic vinegar bottle or two emptied Ivory bottles. Whatever you like. An old milk jug will do. Just don't forget to label the bottle. I wrote the recipe on the bottle so I wouldn't forget it the next time I had to mix a new batch. I've been using this recipe since 1993.

Misty hiding from me because it's her turn to take a bath.

I like the dog shampoo recipe because all odors get eliminated. Your dog might have just rolled in something that has been dead for a week, but this shampoo removes that smell. The bonus is that the dogs do not smell like vinegar after the bath. You think they would, but they don't. Use this recipe and their coats are left shiny and soft, their skin is moisturized by the glycerine. I suppose you could even use less quantities of soap in the recipe because for the most part, a dog's coat is self cleaning.

                                    

(Photo below) Both dogs are clean, somewhat dried, and if they could they would be laying out in the sun soaking up the rays...or they would be rolling in the grass and the gravel getting dirty again, so that is why they have to air dry in the living room.

                                                   

Now, after you bathe a mini-schnauzer, there is another 30-40 minutes of work ahead which includes brushing and trimming their coat, and clipping their toenails. I can handle any of the trimming, but the clipping toenails I dread because I'm always worried I will cut them too short.

The dogs are even more worried about this. Neither cooperate very well when I attempt to do this job. The secret to clipping the toenails, I think, is to start with short clips... and clip only the dead part of the nail. It's hard to tell where the quick is in their nails because they have black nails, so I just clip a little at a time, and I don't try to do all ten nails in one sitting. I do them over a period of several sittings, perhaps over a couple of days so they won't get stressed over it.

               Misty, 11 

Misty likes the hair trim.... she likes the extra attention all that stroking and talking and petting I do while she is on the grooming table (my husband made it several years ago from an old work table with a clamp on it. It folds up for storage, and sets up quickly. Just big enough for one little dog to stand on while being groomed). She is super sensitive, though, when we get close to her ears, probably from that time my husband was giving her a trim with the electric shears and sheared a little sliver of her ear, back when she was about a year old. She didn't like that, never forgot it.

I know he didn't mean to do it, and he felt badly that he had done it, but after that I sort of took over the job. You can't see the missing piece of ear because her hair covers it up, but if she were ever lost or stolen, and we had to prove she was ours, we would be able to identify her by the shape of her ear.

Max, seven years old

Max doesn't mind the hair trim either, and doesn't mind the ear trimming. He's never had a piece of his ear trimmed away accidentally, nor have his toe nails ever been clipped too short. There is only one thing Max is sensitive about, and though he will never father any offspring, he does not like me getting anywhere near his nether parts with the clippers or scissors. He seems to have an instinct about the effects of cutting.

This week, I did groom my doggies, but only partially. I did not groom their entire coats. I thought they might need the extra covering on their bodies for the coming winter season, so I only trimmed around their faces and their hind-ends.

It's enough. As long as I can see that their eyes are clear and their tails are clean, I'm a satisfied pet owner. Come the spring, they will get the full-treatment once more.

 

 

Tags: Homemade Dog Shampoo, Grooming Schnauzers

It was a good day to be a teacher.

Well, yes, any day is a good day to be a teacher, but today in particular.

I don't know why today and not any other day felt this way, but maybe it was because the young college student who is working on her special education methods practicum spent the entire day with me. She came prepared today to do some of the things she had planned to do to complete her case study.

Her day started early, with a running record (for those not in the field, that is a reading assessment which provides information that leads to a thorough analysis of a student's reading skills in the area of fluency, decoding, and comprehension) of a second grader, a math activity (focusing on reading decimals to the thousandths place, using dice to create the numbers) for two fifth graders, followed by observations of myself and other teachers. Near the end of the day, she led a reading skills activity with two of my first graders, then tutored a first grader while he wrote a rough draft of three sentences from his flow map.

As she worked, I only caught glimpses of her, for I was deeply involved in my own teaching with the other students in the room. Such glimpses result in lengthy thought trails that follow one throughout a busy day. Not until one has time to sit down and reflect can a thought trail be fully appreciated and pondered over.

Back in August, when I was first asked to be a cooperating teacher with the local university, my first reaction was to say "No thank you!" My plate was quickly filling up, having just changed schools following my seventh year as an EC teacher, increased my student case load by 25%, and added two grade levels to my usual two. I did not think I would be able to effectively mentor and guide a senior in the Special Education program of a highly esteemed institution. Too much felt unbalanced, unfamiliar. I did not feel like I was in my element, nor did I think I could handle the extra work it would entail.

Although the introductory letter stated I would not have to do any paperwork, I knew that I would be doing a lot of mental work, that we would have to talk about things, she would be asking questions, and I would have to explain things. Explaining takes time. Further, I don't like talking about what I do. I just like doing it.

And if she were to notice things that didn't seem right, or that seemed effective, or if she were to criticize my methods, or even the methods of other teachers, would I be able to temper my words in a thoughtful manner? Would my words encourage her to continue to ask such questions of veteran teachers, or would my words discourage her and forever brand me as someone who doesn't love her work? Would she leave my classroom inspired, disappointed, or indifferent?

(all these concerns and I hadn't even met her yet!)

In the beginning, I almost responded to that first letter asking if I would be a cooperating teacher for the fall semester with a loud, emphatic "No! I don't have time. Maybe later, in a couple of years when I've settled down into this position. Ask me when I have a few years under my belt. Ask me when...."

That's what I thought. At first.

Good thing I don't always follow my first thought. My second thought, which came after a couple of days of thinking and not thinking about it was to say, "Bea, what is there to lose by taking on a college student for a couple of months? She gains experience in an area that is often difficult to manage these days, and I gain an enthusiastic young person to influence, who will one day be a better teacher than I."

I remember when I was in her shoes. My first case studies nearly ten years ago were second graders with genuine reading problems. Two little kids, who could barely read a first grade level reader. I remember how hard I worked preparing reading lessons for them, not only to help me get my course work done for the 'A' I wanted, but also to help them improve their skills in the process. It remains one of my fondest memories as a student-teacher.

I can still hear their voices as they gleefully read a story they had written together to accompany the pictures in the wordless picture book, "Good Dog, Carl," by Alexandra Day.

                                                              

Yes, if you haven't seen a wordless picture book, my friends, you have missed out on reading. They are delightful treasures that allow even readers who can't read English words to tell/read a story. When a child creates a story based on the pictures they see in a well illustrated volume, rich with color and detail, they are able to use their own words to tell a vivid, inviting story. The teacher writes the words for them, and the student reads it back. His own words. He is reading a story that he has told. The confidence gained by successful reading is invaluable to a beginning reader.

By the way, here is a link to a list of 50 high quality wordless picture book titles. Some of my favorites include Free Fall by David Wiesner, Tuesday, by David Wiesner, Sector 7, also by David Wiesner, The Snowman by Raymond Briggs, A Small Miracle by Peter Collington, and any of the Carl books by Alexandra Day.

But I have digressed.

I was writing about my college student. To think I nearly said no.

After the students were dismissed at the end of their school day, I was mentally drained. My books were scattered about the classroom. She was asking me about next week, what would the fifth grade students need to be focusing on in math so she could plan two lessons. During one of them she will be observed by her professor. I didn't even want to think about next week, but I knew we had to talk about it.

So we did. After an hour of looking through materials, making copies, discussing activities, and setting up a time for her lessons, she left. It was 4:30 pm. I could see that she felt  confident after her work today, and I was pleased that it went well for her. I knew she would look forward to next week, even as I wondered how I was going to get all my planning done for the rest of my students, in their various classes, struggling with their various difficulties. I knew I'd be back here on Sunday.

As I turned out the lights of my classroom, and locked the doors, I stole a glimpse back into my room, dark and quiet. After what I witnessed today, I know she is going to make a fine teacher.

I am glad I said "Yes!"

It's time to vote for VIVI! The voting site is open.

The VIVI Awards Official Voting Site is open starting today and running through the 6th.

Jackie wrote about it at the VIVI Awards Journal today.

You can vote at the Official VIVI Awards 2006 Voting Site, http://viviawards.bravehost.com/secondroundx.html.

I'm ready to vote... how about you?

Just pick out one journal for each category.You can view the categories at the VIVI Awards Journal, here, here, here, here, and here if you haven't already done so.(They are split up into five entries at the VIVI Journal). Have fun!

I'll be back to write more later. Got to get to school!

 

 

Tags: VIVI Awards,