Betsy Was a Junior ... But Now She's a Senior

Fellow Maud Hart Lovelace fans will get the Betsy-Tacy reference in the post title, but I'm talking about my Betsy (whose blog name, yes, came from said beloved books.)

My Betsy recently had, as she said, her "last first day of school."

My Betsy is a senior.

We launched her senior year the way we always begin our school years -- with Mass and then breakfast out. (I've always gambled that if we start with God, coffee, and pancakes, we can't go too far wrong.)

We had a lovely day of easing into work, discipline, academics, math (which we merely talked about on the first day but did not tackle until today, so as to preserve the loveliness of that God-Coffee-Pancake kind of beginning. I know on an intellectual level that math is one of God's fiercely beautiful inventions, but on an emotional level? I want to kick it to the curb.) We did fun stuff, like buying snappy new journals, going to the library, and taking Ramona to the park. Betsy also joined Ramona and me as we watched a couple of episodes of Liberty's Kids (which, unbelievably, is available for under seven bucks right now. Yes! All 40 episodes. Run. Run and grab it now.)

And I'm savoring it all. Appreciating the gifts of the mundane. Journaling (not just blogging, but journaling, too, which I've missed and let slide since I started blogging.) Reflecting on the fact that after this year, there will be only one child left in this homeschool dynamic, and that child will be in junior high (which hits me anew every time we reuse a book or resource around here and I realize that I don't have to preserve it for anyone coming up after Ramona ... a strange feeling....)

I'm so grateful that we chose to follow this weird, counter-cultural, fulfilling, amazing, odd, winding path. I wonder, sometimes, what our lives would have looked like if our girls had chosen to go to high school. I never get very far with the speculation, though, because this life is the only one I've known, and it's been good. Maybe a schoolish life would have been good, too? I don't know. Possibly, probably. But at this point, what does that matter? Roads diverged, and we took the one that most intrigued. I used to say that we would take homeschooling one year at a time, and we did, but it didn't take long before I realized something about myself, that "knowing how way leads on to way/I doubted if I should ever come back."

I started this post in a Betsy-Tacy frame of mind, detoured past the Revolutionary War, then meandered into Frostian territory, but through it all I've had a picture in my mind of my beautiful, witty, brave, and talented girl, my novelist, my poet, my middle child. It will be a year of many last firsts.

Betsy is a senior.

(Carney + Winona) + (Emily) X (Melissa + Mitali) = Infinite Bliss

                               +

_____________________________

Infinite Bliss

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Syllabus for Maud Hart Lovelace Teens, 101 (Emily of Deep Valley, Carney's House Party/Winona's Pony Cart)

Prerequisites: None
Co-requisites: Every other Betsy-Tacy book

Course Description:
Introduction to delight.
Emphasis on excellent writing and character development.

Term:
The rest of your reading life.

Course Objectives:

On completion of this course, the reader will be able to:

1. Revel in great writing.
2. Claim fictional characters as new best friends.
3. Thank the publisher for reissuing timeless treasures.
4. Express gratitude to contemporary authors for lending their time,
             memories and forewords.
5. Schedule annual re-reads.
6. With relish, read books to and with one's children, nieces, friends
           (anyone who will listen.)
7. Demonstrate increased understanding of the human heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting next to me are two books: Emily of Deep Valley, with a foreword by Mitali Perkins:

 and Carney's House Party/Winona's Pony Cart, with a foreword by Melissa Wiley:

Buy the books. Read them. Share them. With everyone you know. 

Now, I'm not trying to sell you on the forewords from these wonderful women. No one buys a book solely for its foreword, right?  On the other hand, these introductions are, in their own way, a vital part of what these books are all about.

Mitali Perkins and Melissa Wiley offer very different prefatory words, but what they share is the same: books have a lasting impact.  Beloved books create their own kind of legacy.

I'm reading the Betsy-Tacy books to my Ramona, age eight. So far, we've shared the lives of Betsy and Tacy at ages 5, 6, 8, 10 ... Tib is there, too (but Tib doesn't mind being an afterthought. She's sensible that way.) And, just as my "Anne-with-an-e" and my "Betsy Ray" did, my "Ramona" is adoring the girls, the books, the lives, the families, the friendships. The books we love, and their heroines, become a part of our family.

To learn more, listen to the Book Club Girl, who will be interviewing Melissa Wiley and Mitali Perkins on November 15, at 7 pm (Eastern Time).  Find the details here, at BlogTalkRadio. (You can also go to that link to set up a reminder, so you don't forget to tune in!)

I'll be listening, and you can bet that a few other girls at my house will be, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Disclaimer: Yes, I am the godmother of Melissa Wiley's youngest son. But, I do not blog about her books because I'm a friend. Rather, we became friends because we both love to blog about books. And kids. And life. And learning ... you get the idea.)

That's my Betsy they're threatening with OoP

Thanks to Faith for alerting us to the fact that the Betsy-Tacy books are in danger of going out of print.

We are Betsy-Tacy lovers here (my blog name for Middle Daughter -- Betsy Ray -- probably gave that away, huh?) and I would hate to see these lovely, gentle books go out of print. Write to Harper Collins and let them know how you feel.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days: Of Art Journals, Ewoks, and Books, Glorious Books

Ramona and I have decided to do some drawing and sketching every day. We decorated the covers of our art journals:

and then we got started. Ramona drew a portrait of her sister Betsy as Rey (funny, because I originally blog-named her Betsy Ray of Betsy-Tacy fame) from The Force Awakens: 

I love the glasses. 

Here's another of Rey (I think Ramona actually did this one before we started the new art journals, shortly after our second viewing of The Force Awakens): 

And this is her sketch of a pushcart 

from our current read-aloud, The Pushcart War (which we are both thoroughly enjoying.) 

My subjects have been a little less exciting than Force Awakens characters, but that's okay. We're having fun drawing together, promising not to compare, and not lamenting that we're not perfect. 

My rendition of the pushcart, from the delightful Pushcart War: 

~~~~~

Speaking of read-alouds, Ramona likes to have something to occupy her hands while I read, so she decided to make (cross-stitch? Embroider?) an Ewok. 

~~~~~

In other read-aloud news, we finished The Titan's Curse and are now headed into The Battle of the Labyrinth. Ah, the joys of Greek mythology a la Riordan! 

~~~~~

What have I been reading lately? 

I fell in love with The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce. It was lyrical and lovely. A timeless theme -- that the ordinary is actually extraordinary -- is handled with charm, humor, poignancy, and heart. Highly recommended. 

And for cozy, warm, better-than-a-comforter bedtime reading? Nothing beats a good, old Betsy-Tacy book. 

~~~~~

Anne-with-an-e just came home from the library with Connie Willis' Blackout. So I'm suddenly in the mood to read Blackout, All Clear, and Doomsday Book. 

But first, I have to finish reading Ruth Reichl's Tender at the Bone. 

Arrgh! Too many books! Not enough time! 

Turning to Betsy-Tacy News ....

Thanks to Irene at the 4Real forums for alerting us to the following:

Betsy-Tacy, by Maud Hart Lovelace, will soon be available on audio CD.

Could this bode well for the future of the books?

technorati tags: Kid Lit

Poetry Friday: "Looking at the Sky" by Anne Porter

I missed Poetry Friday last week. If you did too, check it out at Tanita Davis's {fiction, instead of lies}. The Poetry Pals used Jane Hirshfield's "Two Versions" as a mentor poem and crafted their own takes (inspired by Hirshfield's theme, structure, or lines). They created some stunners, so do hop over and read your way through those beauties. 

This week, Carol at The Apples in My Orchard is hosting. Carol has been caring for her aging father, spending 16½ hours on the road (in one day!) and dealing with a lot (I see you, Carol!) Send her some virtual hugs and love today and enjoy all the poetry she's rounded up for us here. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I missed PF last week because we spent Thursday and Friday out of town. My daughter and her husband hosted Thanksgiving. My middle daughter, whom I blog-named "Betsy Ray" (after our beloved Betsy in Maud Hart Lovelace's Betsy-Tacy books) was nine years old when I started this blog in late 2005. She was NINE. And now she and her husband are killing it as Thanksgiving hosts. We had a marvelous day and a marvelous meal. (I told her to marry a man who cooks, and she did. Yay!) The only parts of the meal we provided were the pumpkin pie (my mom's extra-spice recipe), gluten-free/dairy-free biscuits, and gf/df chocolate chip cookies. Anne-with-an-e (who was twelve when I started the blog — TWELVE!) and her fiance brought the dairy-free mashed potatoes, which Ramona (who was THREE when I started the blog) pronounced the best ever. When she was three, she didn't like "mashed-potatoes-with-the-skin-on, eww" but her culinary palate expanded over the years. Sadly for her, a few years back, just as she was perfecting the ultimate pepperjack grilled cheese sandwich with marinara dipping sauce, she needed to go gf/df, as Betsy had to a few years before. We're still working on perfecting the gf/df diet but overall we've made huge progress.

Aaaaaanyway...that's where I was last week. Enjoying the many pleasures of spending time with all my favorite people. Counting gifts and blessings. Giving thanks for beauty seen and unseen. "Looking at the Sky" and getting my thirst for a touch of heaven quenched. (Stealing the imagery of a thirst quenched from the last line of the poem. It's a short and perfect piece.) 

Looking at the Sky
by Anne Porter

I never will have time
I never will have time enough
To say
How beautiful it is
The way the moon
Floats in the air
As easily
And lightly as a bird
Although she is a world
Made all of stone.
....
(Read the second part here.) 

Photo courtesy of AdamNir, Pixabay.

Things We're Reading

Anne-with-an-e is reading (at this very moment, actually) Doomsday Book (which Betsy finished last week) by Connie Willis. She's also reading The Great Gatsby, Mark Shea's By What Authority: An Evangelical Discovers Catholic Tradition and The Cartoon Guide to Chemistry by Larry Gonick.

Betsy is reading To Kill a Mockingbird (rereading, actually), just finished the Hahns'  Rome, Sweet Home (and has decided she loves conversion stories so she moved on to  Surprised by Truth), and recently finished everything in the Betsy-Tacy series.

Ramona is thoroughly enjoying having me read Anne of Green Gables aloud. She has the fun of another ongoing read-aloud right now as our Anne-with-an-e reads her the Molly series (American Girl books.) Ramona is also reading Beverly Cleary's Ribsy (a great vintage copy snagged today at the library book sale.)

I'm reading Connie Willis' Blackout, which so far I like very much.  I also read French Women Don't Get Fat, which has convinced me that I'm completely correct in loving dark chocolate and red wine. And a friend just passed on a copy of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother and -- it's just a guess at this point -- I don't think Amy Chua and I have the same parenting style.

Summer Reading for Teens

Last week I promised I'd be back to talk about summer reading for teens.

I'm back.

I'm not going to break these down into categories for younger teens/older, maturity levels, etc., simply because 1.) I'm lazy and 2.) tastes, reading ability, judgment on what is age-appropriate, and so on, vary wildly. Also, while some of these are written for young teen readers and some were written for adults, many of these books appeal to the whole spectrum.

So, as always, please look into the subject matter, language, and so on for yourself -- faithful Catholics have varying attitudes on what is appropriate for their children and why, so I'll leave that part up to you.

Here are some of my daughters' favorites, in no particular order:

The Anne of Green Gables series (obviously) and all L.M. Montgomery
The Betsy-Tacy teen years
Regina Doman's Fairy Tale Novels
The Percy Jackson series, Rick Riordan
The Kane Chronicles (Riordan)
The Hunger Games series (more on them here and here)
The Harry Potter series (more on Potter here and here)
The Mysterious Benedict Society series
The Gallagher Girls series (about teenage spies)
Most of Madeleine L'Engle
Jane Austen, of course
Louisa May Alcott, of course
Sharon Creech
A La Carte and Mare's War, by Tanita Davis
Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher
The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster
Operation Yes and Letters from Rapunzel, by Sara Lewis Holmes
Laurie Halse Anderson: Fever 1793 and Chains and Forge
To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
The Giver and Gossamer, Lois Lowry
Jen Bryant's Kaleidoscope Eyes and The Trial
Flipped, Wendelin Van Draanen
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (may he rest in peace ... he just passed away yesterday)
Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
Doomsday Book, Connie Willis


And, a few more for the 9-12 age group:

Everything Melissa Wiley has ever written (we actually love the Martha and Charlotte books even more than the original Little House books, and Ramona can't wait for The Prairie Thief)

Redwall series, Brian Jacques

Peg Kehret (especially her memoir on having polio)

You might also want to check out Treasure Chest for Tweens, a great blog that has reviewed a bunch of books and discusses them in the light of the Catholic faith.

Things That Made Me Happy This Week

Monday: 

Atticus and the girls were supposed to take off for a Daddy/Daughter day. The weather, however, was frighteningly unstable. I was very happy that Atticus didn't indulge his storm chaser instincts and head out of town anyway. They stayed home, we all stayed in, I got loads of writing work done. I also got some internet browsing accomplished, as evidenced by this tweet:

Karen Edmisten @Karen_Ed · Jun 30

I have a writing deadline. So NATURALLY I am on the hunt online for the perfect new bookshelf for my living room.

The weather calmed down, and since her older sisters had plans with friends, Atticus and I took Ramona out for Mexican food. Then we stopped at the craft store to stock up on fun foam (because who can live without fun foam? Oh, wait. I can. But Ramona can't.) We topped the night off with a milkshake.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday:

Atticus and the girls took off for the previously postponed Daddy/Daughter day. They were gone from roughly 10:30 a.m. till 8 p.m.

I was very happy to be alone in my own home.

I puttered. I read. I ate. I listened to music. I made Spotify playlists based on a pile of old cassette tapes I recently unearthed. I made a slapped-together version of Molly Wizenberg's Bread Salad with Cherries. I watched some Dr. Who. I puttered some more. I recharged.

I was very happy to be alone and then very happy to have them come home. And very happy to find they had brought me this:

~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday: 

Made time to work out in the morning. Got to spend the afternoon with great friends, which brought about further recharging. Very happy. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday: 

I was very happy that I made time to work out again. Got caught up on laundry. Made a number of remarks to Atticus to express my great appreciation for his taking Ramona to the pool. Made approximately 115 cookies for a family get-together. Ate some peanut butter M&Ms. Did not have to turn on the air conditioning because it has been a gloriously cool-warm day. 

Sat side by side with Ramona, on my bed. We both read Betsy-Tacy books (and stopped to read bits to each other) while Atticus made pasta for dinner. Very happy-making.

And Now For Something Completely Different

Thanks, Jennifer Hart, aka Book Club Girl, for the heads-up about the Betsy-Tacy Convention. It's July 19-22, in Mankato, Minnesota.

So. Tempting. 

Poetry Friday: "Don't Go Into the Library" by Alberto Ríos

I've missed a couple of weeks of Poetry Friday. I was very busy and then I was very sick. 

Well, okay, not very sick, as in seriously sick, just sick in that sort of, "I have the stomach flu and it feels like I'm seriously sick but I'm not and I know this will pass eventually," way. And then, after three or four days, it did. 

After the first, worst day, I was able to read and I was grateful, as I always am, for the library. I read Severance by Ling Ma and Someone by Alice McDermott and I read Betsy-Tacy at night because it's good medicine. (That one, of course, was not a library book. That one is part of the foundation of our home.) I also tried to listen to an audiobook for my book club but I kept falling asleep during that one — it's a book I loved many years ago but on this go-round, I kept tiring of the author's pretensions. 

I didn't haul my sick self to the library, by the way, lest you think I was being careless or stupid. I had several library books around here and Atticus brought home the McDermott book, read it, liked it immensely, and then told me he thought I would like it too. He was right, as he usually is about books I like, love, hate, and treasure. 

At any rate, I thought it was time for some library love, so here, once again, is "Don't Go Into the Library" by Alberto Ríos. A gem. 

Don’t Go Into the Library
by Alberto Ríos


The library is dangerous—
Don’t go in. If you do

You know what will happen.
It’s like a pet store or a bakery—

Every single time you’ll come out of there
Holding something in your arms.

....

(Read the rest here, at Poets.org.)

~~~~~~~~~~

Laura Purdie Salas has the Poetry Friday round-up this week. Enjoy! And do go into the library! 

(Photo courtesy of Oliver Götting/Pixabay.)

Last Night's Library Reading With Ramona

 

Who Were They Really? The True Stories Behind Famous Characters was a fun little book to peruse. One Amazon review mentions inaccuracies in the stories on Louisa May Alcott and Laura Ingalls Wilder (but we didn't get to those yet -- not sure how inaccurate they are. Will have to go back and look at the details.) We read about Hans Christian Andersen (Sob! Sad love story!), Lewis Carroll, J.M. Barrie, and Maud Hart Lovelace (We love you, Betsy-Tacy!) 

~~~~~

Some non-descript finds about anemones and sea stars. So-so. 

~~~~~

The hit of the night: 

A Splash of Red: The Life and Art of Horace Pippin, by Jen Bryant, illustrated by Melissa Sweet. 

Lovely. Inspiring. And, we had the fun of Connections -- this book mentions N.C. Wyeth (one of the first people to recognize Pippin's talent) and Ramona and I recalled that Atticus was just talking about Wyeth the other day when we found a copy of Treasure Island at the bookstore. (Atticus loved Treasure Island as a kid, and was always entranced by the illustrations.) Added to the fun is that we recently watched the old 1950 version of the movie together. Also added to the fun of connections: Anne, sitting a few feet away, suddenly piped up about a book she remembered reading years ago: "Oh, yeah! Horace Pippin! He was in Extraordinary People With Disabilities! I'd forgotten about that!" (Apparently not.) 

~~~~~

Sigh. 

Is there anything better than the library? 

Poetry Friday: "I Am From"

I'm still bouncing back here, so next week I'll have the whole account of a recent joyful event in our lives. The last time I reported on something like this was in 2021. (Subtle, eh?) 

Ramona Behnke has the round-up this week and she's playing with Georgia Ella Lyon's "Where I'm From" form so I'm tossing in a couple of my own incarnations of the form. 

Happy Poetry Friday, and be sure to visit Ramona for the round-up at Pleasures from the Page. 

I Am From

Karen Edmisten 

I am from knee socks, Hostess cupcakes, and patent leather Mary Janes worn home from the store. From hollyhock dolls*, dandelion bouquets, and lightning bugs in the backyard at dusk. 

I am from Santa Claus, the Easter bunny, and a squishy pillow at the drive-in, a six-year-old’s safety in the cocoon of a dark car.

I am from “I’m rubber, you’re glue,” and “Nuh-uh is not a word, Karen.” (“Nuh-uh,” I’d retort, “I can make it a word if I want to.”) 

I am from Alaskan glaciers, the sunrise on the Florida coast, road trips, and airplanes. I am from everywhere and nowhere, the child of a pilot and his bride.

I am from Air Force brats bonding through a shared, strange life, from always being the new kid in school, from learning how cruel and how kind children can be. 

I am from laughing with my sister so hard it makes my stomach hurt. 

I am from the shock of having life turned inside out and upside down, from learning that sometimes things must be torn down before they can be rebuilt. 

I am from celebrating rebuilding, from being remade again and again. 

I am from Tom, I am from Emily, Lizzy, and Kate. I am from five other babies I never met (but who I feel cheering me on daily.) 

I am from bewilderment at the concept that marriage and motherhood could make me happy.

I am from that happiness. 

I am from my discovery of home education. 

I am from Anne-with-an-e, Betsy-Tacy, and Ramona Quimby. From George Eliot, Madeleine L’Engle, and Rumer Godden, from Wendell Berry, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Richard Wilbur, Louisa May Alcott, Anne Tyler, and Nora Ephron. I am from endless authors and perennial poets, from read-alouds, and verse, and from the joy of the book log. 

I am from the simplest pleasures: dark chocolate, steaming coffee, walking, friends, talking, iced coffee, theater, autumn and spring, and letters. Still letters. 

I am from words, paper, typewriters, desktops, laptops, manuscripts, books, and the Oxford comma. 

I am from nomads, from possibilities, from imagination.

I am from a longing for roots, found finally in the knowledge that this earth is not a nomad's home. 

And here's another past version: 

I Am From

I am from knee socks, Hostess cupcakes

and black patent leather shoes worn home from the store.

I am from coast to coast, from everywhere and nowhere,

the child of a pilot and his bride. I am from base housing,

plain vanilla walls and Barbie clothes sewn from Thailand’s silk.

I am from holly hock dolls and walking to school,

from dandelion bouquets, from Alaskan glaciers and the sun

rising over the Atlantic on a Florida coast.

I am from summer car trips to Grandma and Grandpa's,

with stops to see Lookout Mountain and the Truman Museum

along the way.

I am from staid New England stock, from Indiana folks,

from John and Norma, Madeline and Jim.

I am from lightning bugs in the backyard

and the comforting scent of Grandma's Noxzema.

I am from “Be polite” and “Do your best,”

and “Goodnight, John-boy” at bedtime,

from “I’m rubber, you’re glue,”

and from “Nuh-uh is not a word.”

I am from my squishy pillow at the drive-in,

from a six-year-old’s delight in the

dark, safe cocoon of the family car.

I am from Santa Claus and Easter eggs, dinnertime grace,

and from bedtime prayers that faded away.

I am from Germany and Wales, from homecooked meals,

decorated doll cakes** on my birthday,

and home-sewn clothes

that made me proud of my mother’s skill.

From Grandma, who thought I loved peas

because I gobbled them up (just to get rid of them),

and from Grandpa, who convinced me

that a signal tower was his own private Christmas tree.

I am from my grandmother’s habit of smearing butter

on a scraped knee, and taking me to “the grocery”

no matter what store it was.

I am from Mom, who decorated the house for every holiday,

and took us blueberry hunting by the creek;

from Dad, who told me that thunder

was the giants bowling in the sky,

and whose hand holding mine is the only thing I remember seeing

when he returned from a year in Korea.

I am from Air Force brats bonding through a shared, strange life,

from a family who taught me without words that "skin color" 

meant nothing and “human being” meant everything.

I am from nomads, from possibilities and from imagination.

I am from a longing for roots, found finally, and only, in God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  * Hollyhock dolls

** Barbie doll cake (My mom made the best cakes!) 

A Homeschooling Meme

Pam, from Everyday Snapshots (a lovely blog!) passed this meme along -- thanks, Pam!


1) ONE HOMESCHOOLING BOOK YOU HAVE ENJOYED

(One???? Here's my overlong list.)

Books that initially convinced me I could handle homeschooling:

Family Matters, David Guterson
Better than School, Nancy Wallace
Catholic Education: Homeward Bound, Kimberly Hahn and Mary Hasson
Designing Your Own Classical Curriculum, Laura Bergquist

Books that initially influenced my style of homeschooling:

All of the above, plus:

How Children Fail, John Holt
Teach Your Own, John Holt
School Proof, Mary Pride
A Charlotte Mason Companion, Karen Andreola
Real Learning, Elizabeth Foss


Books that nourish me, especially when I'm feeling burn-out:

All of the above, plus:

A Catholic Homeschool Companion, ed. by Maureen Wittmann & Rachel Mackson
Homeschooling with Gentleness, Suzie Andres
Homeschooling Our Children, Unschooling Ourselves, Alison McKee
101 Devotions for Homeschool Moms, Jackie Wellwood
Seasons of a Mother's Heart, Sally Clarkson

The homeschooling book to which I contributed a chapter: 

A Little Way of Homeschooling


2) ONE RESOURCE YOU WOULDN'T BE WITHOUT

One??? Fie on one!

My laptop.
My husband (for his sounding board qualities, which are superb.)
The library.
My friends (for their sounding board qualities, which are superb.)



3) ONE RESOURCE YOU WISH YOU HAD NEVER BOUGHT

Everything that looked shiny and life-changing in a catalog but turned out to be just another dull bit of scripted curriculum.



4) ONE RESOURCE YOU ENJOYED LAST YEAR

One??? Fie on one!

Our theater experiences.
Reading Betsy-Tacy books with Ramona.
My friend, Johnna, who provided an art class for our little homeschool group.
Book discussions, over coffee, with Danae and my girls.



5) ONE RESOURCE YOU WILL BE USING NEXT YEAR

One?? Fie again!

Lectures, and lectures, and lectures, oh, my!
A cookbook.


6) ONE RESOURCE YOU WOULD LIKE TO BUY

Rather than buy one, I would just like to hire a resource, preferably a resource that does laundry, dishes, and vacuuming. This will not happen.



7) ONE RESOURCE YOU WISH EXISTED

A self-cleaning house, self-cooking meals, and self-washing laundry.


8) ONE HOMESCHOOLING CATALOG YOU ENJOY READING

I didn't buy a single thing from a catalog this year. I may actually be getting over my obsession.

Or I may just be broke.



If you read this, and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged. 
:) 

Poetry Friday: I Am From

Carol, at The Apples in My Orchard, is hosting Poetry Friday this week. She and her workshop students have been looking at various kinds of "I am" poems. So this week I decided to share the latest incarnation of an "I Am From" poem that I recently had to write for a conference. 

I've written a few versions of this, some shorter, some longer. But one thing that never changes? That laughter with my sister. (I didn't get her permission to share her picture, thus her lovely smile.) 😀

I Am From

by Karen Edmisten 

I am from knee socks, Hostess cupcakes, and patent leather Mary Janes worn home from the store, from hollyhock dolls, dandelion bouquets, and lightning bugs in the backyard at dusk. 

I am from Santa Claus, the Easter bunny, and a squishy pillow at the drive-in, a six-year-old’s comfort in the dark cocoon of the car.

I am from “I’m rubber, you’re glue,” and “Nuh-uh is not a word, Karen.” (“Nuh-uh,” I’d retort, “I can make it a word if I want to.”) 

I am from Alaskan glaciers, and the sunrise on the Florida coast, from everywhere and nowhere, the child of a pilot and his bride.

I am from Air Force brats bonding through a shared, strange life, from always being the new kid in class. 

I am from laughing with my sister so hard it makes my stomach hurt. 

I am from the shock of having life turned inside out and upside down, from learning that sometimes things have to be deconstructed before they can be rebuilt. 

I am from celebrating the rebuilding. I am from being remade again and again. 

I am from Tom, and from Emily, Lizzy, and Kate. I am from five other babies I never met (but whom I feel cheering me on daily.) 

I am from bewilderment at the idea that marriage and motherhood could make me happy.

I am from that happiness. 

I am from my discovery of home education. 

I am from Anne-with-an-e, Betsy-Tacy, and Ramona Quimby, from George Eliot, Madeleine L’Engle, and Rumer Godden, from endless authors and perennial poets, from read-alouds, and verse, and the joy of the book log. 

I am from the simplest of pleasures, from dark chocolate, steaming coffee, iced coffee, walking, friends, talking, theater, autumn and spring, and letters. Still letters. 

I am from words, paper, typewriters, desktops, laptops, manuscripts, and books. 

I am from nomads, from possibilities, and from imagination.

I am from a longing for roots, found finally, magically and forever, in everyone and everything I love. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Be sure to stop by Carol's for the round-up. 

Summer Reading

The other day I asked about summer reading lists, and said I'd be back soon with mine. Here's  bit of what I hope to read this summer (although when I'm writing a book, I don't always get a lot of pleasure reading done, and my actual To-Be-Read stack is ridiculously large.)


On my list:

Shirt of Flame by Heather King
Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters by Meg Meeker
Diary of a Country Priest by Georges Bernanos
Quiet, The Power of Introverts In a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain
I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith
The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery

Atticus plans to read*:

Watergate, by Thomas Mallon
The Fourteen Sisters of Emilio Montez O'Brien by Oscar Hijuelos
The End of the Affair by Graham Greene
The Book of J by Harold Bloom and David Rosenberg
Nothing Like the Sun (a reread by Anthony Burgess)
Henry Adams and the Making of America by Garry Wills
A Godly Hero, The Life of William Jennings Bryan, by Michael Kazin
The Memoirs of General Grant, by the guy buried in Grant's tomb
And whatever intriguing British police procedurals cross his path (along the lines of the Resnick novels by John Harvey)

This morning I'll be on Relevant Radio at 8 a.m. central time, talking books and summer reading. Some of my recommendations will come from our all-time favorite reads:

Picture Books:

Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney
Only Opal by Barbara Cooney
Jim Arnosky's books
Josephine Nobisso's The Weight of a Mass, Take It To The Queen and Francis Woke Up Early
All things Magic School Bus
Most things Tomie de Paola
All things Mr. Putter and Tabby by Cynthia Rylant
How My Parents Learned to Eat by Ina R. Friedman and Allen Say
Tea With Milk by Allen Say
How To Make an Apple Pie and See the World by Marjorie Priceman

For Ramona's age (9-12)**:

Frindle by Andrew Clements
All things Andrew Clements
All things Encyclopedia Brown by Donald Sobol
All things Little House
All things Betsy-Tacy
All things Hilda van Stockum
All things E.B. White
All things Frances Hodgson Burnett
The Borrowers by Mary Norton
The Penderwicks series by Jeanne Birdsall
Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo

And, I'll be back later with favorites for teens!

*Atticus says: "Some of these contain material that some might find offensive, so beware."

** Varying levels of maturity -- be sure to check them out for yourself before handing them to your child, especially a very sensitive child.