Connecting With My Favorite

I have been savoring the images in Robert McCloskey: A Private Life in Words and Pictures the past few days. Written by his younger daughter Jane, it is really more a collection of her interpretations and observations of his life and her role as the daughter than it is entirely about my favorite picture book author and illustrator. Still. I keep rereading passages that reveal things I never knew.

"Sometimes my mother sent Sal and me to visit my father at his studio in the boathouse. The studio often had paintings we had never seen before, and sometimes never saw again until after he died. After we looked around for a few minutes, Bob arranged us on the floor with chalk or pencils or paint, and we all settled down to work."

I love that image. I love the descriptions of his friendship with Marc Simont and how they supposedly would eat a pound of spaghetti at a time in college. I love the descriptions of island activities and hazards. Mostly, I love the glimpses into his work, prompting me to revisit my favorite books with new eyes and insights.

Voice in Person

Kevin Kling's picture book Big Little Brother is a perfect example of how voice can be associated with a person. Hearing him read the book at the Red Balloon Bookshop on Sunday was fantastic. Seated next to illustrator Chris Monroe (who expertly showed the pictures), Kevin's expressive voice illuminated the voice of the words on the pages. Even the years of age difference between his adult self and his child self faded as he read about putting the perfect plastic turkey into the oven at daycare and being tired of his big little brother's constant presence when he just wanted to be alone. Listeners applauded when the little brother came to his rescue, just in time to save that pretend Thanksgiving dinner. I just loved hearing him read his own work, so perfectly complemented by Chris's insightful illustrations.

Just Not the Same

When I was a little girl, my maternal grandmother cared for me while my parents were at work. There were things I would eat at her house (like braunschweiger!) that I would never touch at home. It just was not the same.

All of our sons love James Bond, but the eldest reads my dad's collection of Ian Fleming books whenever we visit my parents' home. He read three over the course of the three days! My mom offered to send them home with him, knowing how much he loves them. No, thanks, he told her. It just would not be the same.

In Thanksgiving

Each night before I fall asleep, I record at least five things in my journal for which I am grateful. I used to record only three, but I increased that number as it got easier. So far today I am grateful for color, for the friends who came to run our informal Turkey Trot (and eat my cinnamon rolls), for the freedom to wake up without an alarm clock, and for my family's health. I anticipate being grateful for the familiar drive across Wisconsin, for time with my parents in the afternoon, and for my sons' contented sighs after enjoying their grandma's cooking. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Reading Recommendations

I love talking about books with people who are passionate about reading. Sometimes I discover books I never expected to like about topics I would never have considered reading if someone else had not loved the book (Ahab's Wife comes to mind). Generally, though, my friends read many of the same things I like to read, and we exchange book titles and topics freely. My dear friend Gloria (who lives in Washington and loves Mt. Rainier National Park just as our family did when visiting her 6 years ago) always sends a book title or two in her letters. My Name is Mary Sutter by Robin Oliveira was her latest recommendation, and I have been engrossed in Mary's story for the past two days. I love it when a book so captures my attention that I have a hard time leaving the setting and characters to participate in real life. So, now that the Thanksgiving baking is finished, I am going back to 1861 and the makeshift hospital where she is caring for soldiers.

Just a Second

How many times have I uttered these phrases? Just a second or Just a minute. They are poor substitutes for what I really mean, usually I will be there when I finish whatever I am doing now. The older I get, the more careful I am with my speech, and I have tried to eliminate those pat responses.

Steve Jenkins's newest book Just a Second makes me ponder the meaning to even greater lengths. In a second, I learned, woodpeckers can hammer a tree trunk 20 times, and a human can blink 7 times. In a minute, a human heart beats about 70 times while a hamster's heart beats 450 times! In an hour, baby blue whales gain 10 pounds when drinking their mothers' milk. In a day, the worldwide chicken population lays 2,000,000,000 eggs. In a week, moose antlers can grow by 6 inches. Not one to usually memorize facts, I found myself fixated on the incredible statistics in the book.

Of course, his incredible cut-paper illustrations astound me! The crushed aluminum can (with accompanying facts about the landfill accumulation in a month) looks real! The details of eyes, tails, and teeth on the mice offspring (with a horrifying fact about what the worldwide population would be is all the original pair's offspring survived) are amazing. He is noted for his fabulous, fact-filled glossaries, and this book also includes terrific timelines and graphs. Students will love it as a book to peruse alone or to hear read aloud.

A Story-Filled Afternoon

I waited in anxious anticipation this afternoon at St. Paul's Fitzgerald Theater for three chairs on the stage to be occupied by some of my favorite people. The middle chair was for Cathy Wurzer, host of MPR's Morning Edition. The other two were for Chris Van Allsburg and Kate DiCamillo. They chatted about Harris Burdick, that incredibly talented, elusive, mysterious stranger made famous by Mr. Van Allsburg back in 1984. They shared the story of how The Chronicles of Harris Burdick came into being. Kate and Chris each read parts of the stories they contributed to the volume. Kate's epistolary story, told from the perspective of a young girl named Pearlie, accompanies "The Third Floor Bedroom" for which Harris Burdick's caption reads as follows: It all began when someone left the window open. I love that illustration and wrote my own version many years ago. Chris's story, based on the illustration for "Oscar and Alphonse", introduces readers to a little-known scientific theory called "The Farkas Conjecture" and provides quite an entertaining view of just how those caterpillars in her hand could spell. They followed the reading with more stories about their stories, giving me lots of things to share with the students when we return from Thanksgiving break.