I’m trying to remember something. When I was a kid, I had a set of books—puzzle books, I think? They were big, magazine-sized, but with sturdier covers, card-stock maybe. Cartoony illustrations. I don’t remember much at all about the content, except that it was funny and I loved it, and in each issue there was a page dedicated to one of the United States, riffing on the peculiar or comical names of towns and cities in that state. Like Friendly, Iowa (was it Iowa? I can’t remember) or Normal, Oklahoma. The page would show a giant map and little cartoon ...
So what happened to my reading this month is Harvest Moon.
I often get letters from people wondering how I manage to read so much. I think my typical response to this question tends to be weak on substance because I don’t really know what I’d be doing with the bits of the day during which reading happens, if reading weren’t happening. Cleaning closets, perhaps? I’m pretty sure that’s how I used to explain it: our closets are very untidy, because I read a lot of books.
But now I can speak more definitively, and it turns out it isn’t about the ...
When I first met Karen Edmisten nearly ten years ago on a homeschooling discussion list, I was struck by her cheerfulness, her good sense, her steadfast and intelligent faith, her warmth, her generosity of heart and spirit. Later, when we finally got to spend time together in person, I saw that those qualities which had shone forth from her writing were radiant in the offscreen woman as well. Both in person and in her writing, she is like a warm and steady beam of light, brightening the ...
I haven’t had a chance to read the letters yet—just got the announcement—but it sounds like at least one of them mentions Charlotte, Laura’s grandmother. This batch of letters wasn’t among the family archive material the Laura Ingalls Wilder estate gave me when I was researching the Martha and Charlotte books, so this is new and exciting stuff for me too.
The giant strawberry display in Henry’s this morning reminded me of this post I wrote in February, 2006, back when we lived in Virginia instead of strawberry country. Strawberries here in San Diego are plentiful and cheap months before they hit the Virginia farmers’ markets, but I still get excited when I see them piled in the produce section under a big sale sign.
I wonder if the people who bought our house when we moved left the backyard berries in place?
Jane really appreciates the great optical illusions and Escher-art book suggestions. She has added more than a few promising titles to her birthday wish list, so perhaps we’ll have some reviews to share in the months ahead. In the meantime, here’s a nifty YouTube clip we found. Jane was looking for help in drawing “impossible shapes”; I didn’t know what she meant until she showed me pictures in the Harold Jacobs Mathematics book. (Highly recommended, by the way—we have never used the Jacobs books as textbooks, but rather they have been ‘fun reading’ for Jane and others for several years. ...
Did you notice the bee had some company in that last photo? I didn’t, until I looked closely at the next one. Nasty little sapsucking beasties. And yet—they’re rather lovely, aren’t they, all rosy in the morning light?
She would like a good book on optical illusions, possibly with instructions for how to draw some of the trickier ones. Escher staircases, that kind of thing. Geometric patterns that mess with your head. Got any favorites?
When they’re flying in the air, there’s nothing you can do but watch, but when the queen lands, the rest of the swarm will land around her in a huge, sedate clump that you can put into a bucket or a box and put back into a hive. Julie made ...
I knew the honeybee’s numbers were declining. I remember hearing the wacky cell phone theory several years back, and that was laughed out of the news, and since then I’ve just heard ominous mutterings now and then about the bees disappearing and nobody knows why.
But I didn’t know the half of it.
I didn’t know, for example, that nowadays U.S. beekeepers earn most ...
I have something very special for you today. Stephanie Spinner, author of such splendid books as Quiver and Quicksilver, not to mention the hilarious Aliens for Breakfast trilogy, graciously agreed to an interview here at Bonny Glen. Years ago, when I was fresh out of grad school, Stephanie gave me my first job in publishing as her editorial assistant at Random House and Knopf (two imprints, same office). You couldn’t ask for a better introduction to children’s book publishing: Stephanie worked on everything from picture books to beginning readers to chapter books (a genre she pioneered) to middle grade and ...
• Watched a NOVA special on bees, and watched bees outside on our sunflowers and scabiosa. I am so happy to see them buzzing around, filling those nifty leg pouches with golden pollen. Rilla stands beside me, peering so closely. Rose prefers to stay a safe distance away.
• Played lots of Harvest Moon. Such a relaxing game, I find. Planting crops, befriending forest animals, fishing. As virtual lives go, this one is quite appealing.
• Played, with lots of whooping and hollering, several exciting games of Mario Kart with my husband as the children cheered us on. We’re like a Wii ...
Scott sent me this link to 50 Strange Buildings of the World. Some of them will really mess with your head. I’ve been in one of them! But how did I not know about the Kansas City Public Library? Awesome.
The backyard art bag has been an even bigger hit than I expected. It has become the Paint Anywhere, Anytime bag. Rilla seems to mightily enjoy the independence it affords her: at any given moment she might be seen busily setting up her little workspace on the kitchen table or living room floor: painting board, a sippy cup of water, a ...
“Is there anything you want?” (asked Mr. Craven.) “Do you want toys, dolls, books?”
“Might I,” quavered Mary, “might I have a bit of earth?”
In her eagerness she did not realize how queer the words would sound and that they were not the ones she had meant to say. Mr. Craven looked quite startled.
“Earth!” he repeated. “What do you mean?”
“To plant seeds in—to make things grow—to see them come alive,” Mary faltered.
—The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
I’m laughing at myself. I was reading over some of my garden-notes posts, and the way I go on, “my garden” this ...
I stood in the garden for a long while this afternoon, watching a carpenter bee patrol the salvia. He was bigger than the blossoms and seemed black all over; maybe it was the light but I didn’t see any yellow on him. He inspected the bougainvillea and rejected it; same with the daisies. But the salvia pleased him. I counted how long he sipped at each small blossom: one, two, three—quick as that, no Mississippis.
Then the hummingbirds began to chitter and scold from the tops of the neighbor’s pepper trees. They’re like squirrels, a bit cheeky, a bit cross. They ...
Caught this sweet little fellow enjoying the spray of our bird fountain. The video is jerky because I had the baby in my arms while recording it, and I was shooting through a windowscreen lest I scare the little guy away, so please forgive the poor quality. I didn’t want to miss it!
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