Dissection Digestion

I am reading Gooseberry Park by Cynthia Rylant to second graders this month. This is a snippet from a recent chapter and the ensuing discussion:


"Professor Albert had never been an amateur when it came to sleeping. Years of standing beside philosophy majors trying to label the insides of frogs had taught him the fine art of turning off his brain whenever he wished. So he turned it off and went back to sleep."

A hand raises.

Yes?

Why would someone label the insides of frogs?

Well, in biology class, you will dissect frogs to understand how body parts work.

So, do you have to cut them open?

Yes.

Are they alive?

No.


Another hand raises. In my sister's class [this is grade 10], they dissected pigs. Groans all around.


A different student raises his hand. I don't think I can digest that.

Word Surgery

A strange sight appeared across the hall the other day...first graders wearing surgical masks, gloves, and caps were cutting thoughtfully. I could not resist a visit to their room.

"We're doing word surgery," I was informed.

Each had word lists to cut...words like would not, she will, he is, you are, let us, and could have. They used "band-aids" to put the words together.

"Really they are apostrophes," a child told me as an aside.

Ingenious! I would've loved that process of learning contractions as a child!

Author Evening

Jennifer Holm joined readers at a book club event last night at one of our county libraries. She is an animated presenter with a zippy slide show that conveys her history (and a bit of her Babymouse illustrator/brother Matt's as well). Though I loved hearing her stories and watching her draw what the young fans requested, I wondered about the other Jennifer Holm, the one who has one the Newbery Honor three times. The audience clearly viewed her as the Babymouse and Squish creator, not the amazing author of Our Only May Amelia, Penny From Heaven, and Turtle in Paradise. I had so many questions and wonderings. Perhaps she will become a cyber penpal as I pose my questions via email.

In This Chair

I spent many minutes (hours?) in this and other rocking chairs today. Were it not for the read-aloud portions of my day, I would not like my job half as much. I love the attention children give to books, the way they lean in or mimic things from the text, their completely transparent expressions as they imagine and empathize. It is a blessing and an honor to promote literacy in this intimate- and lovely - setting.

Today several books rested in my lap or were clutched in my hands...The Camping Trip That Changed America by Barb Rosenstock, Animal Masquerade by Marianne Dubuc, "Your Question for Author Here" by Kate DiCamillo and Jon Scieszka in Guys Read Funny Business, Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo (the Miss Franny Block and the bear chapter and when Opal gets a the collar and leash at Gertrude's Pets), and Gooseberry Park by Cynthia Rylant (when Kona goes back to find Stumpy and when Murray discovers Oreos in Professor Albert's kitchen).

Bookish Afternoon

With the work and family schedule, time for friends is most often the first thing neglected (after dusting!), and it is one thing I need desperately sometimes. Yesterday two friends and I saved an hour for each other and talked about one's extraordinary adventure in Italy and as usual, books and our book/literacy projects. One of those sweet friends ordered our names in photographs from The Butterfly Alphabet by Kjell Sandved! I love this, especially how the colors all complement each other. The hour stretched into two, but it felt so good to be with dear friends.

Neighborhood Birds

Yesterday I spotted the first eastern bluebird in a tree at our neighborhood park. The owls occasionally still talk to each other at night. The chickadees and cardinals communicate each morning. Geese and ducks honk and quack overhead as they go from lake to lake.

For those unfamiliar to the bird world in our state, Adele Porter's latest book - Birds in Our Backyard - is the perfect resource. Bill Marchel's fabulous photographs are highlighted by her rhymed couplets and fact bubbles. Best of all, it is organized by the season. Winter begins the book with owls and ruffed grouse, waxwings and pheasants. In spring, the trumpeter swans return, red-winged blackbirds call, and wrens sing. Birds work hard as parents in the summer; the loon turns its eggs to keep them warm and carries its babies on its back. Finally, in fall, the birds store food and fat sources in preparation for colder weather and migration.

The copy for my neighbor children came with binoculars from Minnesota Historical Press. Even better for bird watching.

Interesting Point of View

Writing as a collective "we" seemed odd to me, yet while reading THE BUDDHA IN THE ATTIC by Julie Otsuka, I have quickly adjusted to the voices of young Japanese women, united as mail order brides in the early part of the 20th century. Their story begins on a ship, and their voices share the common experiences of crowded conditions and unfamiliar people. Occasionally, the voice tells about one of the members and her individual thoughts and trials. In eight sections, the women's lives unfold, all of their expectations visible to each other and their disappointments hidden to society. The rest of the story, I am certain, will not be entirely pleasant, but I am glad to glimpse history through their voices.