Every day Celebrations

            

      Celebrating today with Ruth Ayres and others who share. I haven't written a celebration post since early April, first caught in the throes of a poem a day in April, then it didn't happen week after week. I have been much more busy at the bookstore where I volunteer. For those of you who don't know, this is a used bookstore that is run entirely by volunteers, and I am the volunteer coordinator. It's great to work with all these people, but takes time, and some finesse I think, too. I celebrate the more than forty volunteers who keep our bookstore going for book lovers!

     It's been a strange weather year for us. We've had winter when we expect spring, and summer when we expect, yes, spring. I hope things settle down soon! But whatever has happened, the flowers seem more beautiful than ever and I celebrate that something worked very well for those flowers this year.
     Ingrid (3rd grade) came home from a three-day overnight on Friday and was so excited about her time in the woods, she wanted to do something else on Saturday, our day this week together. So, we traveled to a favorite lake and loved our walk, seeing beautiful birds, sketching in our notebooks and hearing the concert they gave to us. I don't have a picture of Imogene (kindergarten) who went for one night last week. I celebrate the teachers willing to take their classes out into the wild, to show how wonderful it can be. 
     And finally, many of you know that my father was killed in action during World War II. I celebrate those in the military who keep us safe, today and long ago. The sacrifice of lives taken or years of service given is something we don't always think about, and this Memorial Day holiday is one that helps us remember. 
     It is the start of summer vacation for many of you. Wishing you one filled with rest and a slowing down of your lives so you can take time to celebrate the good things in each day.

A Reader Blooms

Join us on Tuesdays with the Two Writing Teachers and others who post. 

 

      Because I'm not teaching anymore, it's exciting to talk with young readers at the bookstore and help them find a book they will enjoy. Often they're searching for a book "like" one they've loved before. 

      It's also a wonderful thing to see how much Ingrid and Imogene love books. They spent their final vacation day with me yesterday and part of the day was spent reading together. Ingrid, in third grade, had some struggles at the beginning but is reading well now. She just finished Wonder, partly because she's seen the movie and also because her teacher read it aloud before the holidays. She wrote a letter to an author yesterday about a poetry book I just bought for her and Imogene. We read the book first, discussed it, then Ingrid wanted to write. 

     Imogene is in kindergarten, has loved books from the beginning, yet has resisted any talk about learning to read. The books are read to her, then she takes over, going through the books again, and again, creating the story in "her" words. I don't know why the resistance, but it's been there, until this year. She has been pulled out in a small group to help her learn more and that teacher has done something magical to inspire her. She's beginning to read! And now she points out words that she knows! 

      Often, when the girls are with me all day, they end up creating notes for their parents. This time, Ingrid had already begun, and Imi said she wanted to write a letter to her Mama. She chose a coloring page from the net with a big heart and two roses on it. And she colored it with concentration, filling all the parts in. Sometimes she doesn't do that, but this time, the motivation was there and every part looked good! In the past, she has just written: "Love, Imogene". This time, she says to me, "I want to write more. Will you help me spell the words?" I don't have a picture of the note, too private, but it involved several sentences, a need to show her what a comma looked like, and the spelling of "anything" because she wanted to write, "Mama, you can do anything!"  

       Words for those who work with children come to my mind: sharing beautiful books, patience, and finding authentic reasons and audiences to write.

Poetry Friday - Reading Pleasure

      
       Poetry Friday is hosted today by Violet Nesdoly at Violet Nesdoly/Poems. No matter the topic, her words always inspire. This time, she has shared a memory of a year ago and a loving ode to autumn's popular crop, the pumpkin. Thanks, Violet, and Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

A recent discovery of a "tree jack o' lantern"
on a nearby street,
readying for Halloween.

       I'm going away this weekend, across town to stay with my granddaughters, Ingrid and Imogene, while their parents fly off to celebrate their anniversary. That's one of the definitions of grandparents, right, to offer some time to remember that parents are also a couple, not only parents. 
       I know that the grand-girls and I will have a great time. There is a new dinosaur exhibit at the Museum of Nature and Science. We might find a playground to play on for a while. The weather is supposed to be warm, with cold not coming until Monday.
       And we'll read. There has been more and more talk recently about the best way to help children become good readers, to love to read. That best way is to read, to allow slow time to read, to read as adults for children to see!  I've pulled out a few books to take, mostly our favorite Halloween books, and a new short chapter book that re-tells some old favorite fairy tales. The girls own lots of books themselves, so we'll revisit some of those too. 
        There are many poems written about children, and a favorite of mine is one read to me long ago by one of my grandfathers. Let us celebrate today's, yesterday's, and tomorrow's Children's Hour! I cannot state that I am "an old mustache," but I will "put (them) down into the dungeon/In the round-tower of my heart."

         The Children's Hour

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight, 

      When the night is beginning to lower, 

Comes a pause in the day's occupations, 

      That is known as the Children's Hour. 

I hear in the chamber above me 

      The patter of little feet, 

The sound of a door that is opened, 

      And voices soft and sweet.