Remembering Dad

My Dad taught me to cherish and nurture the Earth and its plants and creatures.  In remembrance of my Dad's birthday, we are celebrating the coming of Spring.  The girls and I walked around the yard and discovered each popping bud and every tender, new plant.  We filled the bird feeder and put out yarn and soft scraps for the birds to build their nests.  Finally, we surveyed Jung's seed catalog and sketched out plans for this year's gardens. 

We miss you, Dad.  But, I feel your spirit every time I see the beauty of nature reflected in my children's eyes.

Two young onions - descendants of onion sets my Dad gave me two years ago
A small horseradish plant, grown from roots my Dad gave me

A first bud

Tiny chives growing in Cassie's kitchen garden

Our "secret garden" had to be excavated to install the new drainage system.  We have to redo a lot of it.  But, what potential it offers!

Books

Like most people, I realize there are some advantages to eBooks.  I've actually spent a lot of time pondering the merits of eBooks versus "real" books.   Many textbooks are now available in eBook form.  Teachers can project digital versions of the textbook in class and make it easier for students to follow along while reading.  

Another great advantage of electronic textbooks is that many can be accessed by students from home.  Of course, the student must have access to the Internet, either through a computer or smartphone in order to do this.  (Yes, I used "access" twice in a row.  Even my beloved thesaurus doesn't have a suitable synonym for the situation.)   That eliminates most of my students.  But, it's still a wonderful option.  Many students no longer have to carry backpacks full of heavy books.  All they need is a cellphone.

Of course, eBooks are cheaper than paper books.  We have 10 iPads at school to be used by our students.  If we want to purchase a novel in eBook form, we only have to pay once to download the novel onto all iPads.  You can see how that might make our limited budget stretch much further.  However, the iPads can be used in class only and cannot go home.  A student loses an iPad or a student loses a paperback that cost $5.99. . . I have to vote for the old-fashioned paperback.

My thoughts turn to home.  We have two 7-foot tall bookshelves in the family room; a bookshelf in the basement; two more in the computer room, a couple more in the hallway for the kids' books, and a newly-added basket filling with books that the girls are setting aside for Gaby.  Even with all those shelves, there are books stacked next to our beds.  There is a pile of books from the school library on the family room floor and another pile on a chair in the kitchen.  Several books sit on the steps, waiting to be carried up and shelved.  Clearly, if we converted to eBooks we would eliminate a lot of clutter.  That's not even worth an attempt at an argument.  Less paper might be better for the greater environment too.  I haven't done any research into the cost to the enviornment of lost trees versus electrical power for eBooks.

We got Les a Kindle for his birthday and we are talking about getting Cassie an eBook reader for her birthday.   I read books on my iPad.  A week ago I eagerly purchased an eBook that wasn't yet available in paper.  I could have waited to get it at the library.  But, new additions can only be checked out for two weeks  with no renewals allowed.  An eBook was clearly the best choice for me.  Ten minutes into the book, though, I realized that some of my friends would enjoy reading the book.  Ooops!  Can't share this book unless I'm willing to relinquish my iPad for awhile.  And for me, the experience of reading an eBook just doesn't equal holding a book in my hands.  I love to thumb the pages of a paperback while reading.  I love to curl up with a book, and can't quite envision curling up with my iPad.  I usually don't have much time to read and typically steal a few pages while drying my hair in the morning.  Water, blow dryer, eBook - not really a good mix for me.   

Cassie has always loved books because I began reading to her when she was newborn. This wasn't the case for Lacey, who had never held a book before we met her.  We had our work cut out for us.  Several weeks after we brought Lacey home, we were at the pediatrician's office.  Lacey dug through the basket of magazines and presented a parenting magazine to me and a puzzle book to Cassie.  Wow!  In such a short time she had learned that there are genres of literature.  This was the beginning of empowerment for her. 

To develop a love of reading, kids need to interact with books.  Yes, they can interact with a book that is reading aloud, flashing video and playing music.  So, we have routinely presented both electronic and paper options to Lacey.  Several times a week, she practices with an interactive reading program on the computer.  She does enjoy this.  The experience probably ranks somewhere between sorting socks and playing Wii.  But, she has more fun hiding books under her pillow to read by flashlight.  After all, this is what her big sister does!   

As I'm writing this, I'm also reflecting on the role that books play in just a single day in our home.  Yesterday I read aloud to the girls during breakfast. This is one of our weekend traditions.  I suppose I could have read an eBook. But, that would deny the girls the pleasure of huddling in front of a bookshelf, debating our next choice.  And, Cassie has so much fun introducing Lacey to her favorites - reading book jackets aloud, showing her illustrations, describing series, etc. After we ran our errands, I took Cassie to the used bookstore that now occupies the old Borders shop.  Borders Bookstore was our special occasion store.  We'd visit there before a roadtrip or as a reward for a good report card.  We didn't always buy books.  Sometimes, we just sat in the coffee shop and Cassie would write in her journal while I graded papers.  Simply being surrounded by books made Cassie happy.  Cassie entered the store half-heartedly because, in her mind, nothing could replace Borders.  Once inside the store, however, she couldn't stop beaming.  She headed for the closest bin, then closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.  She ran her fingers over the spines of the books and began pointing out the titles of recent favorites. 


 "Ten minutes,"   I told her firmly.  "Two books for you and two for Lacey."

"But, Mom, it's so wonderful here!" she lamented.

Later that day, the new books were the reward for the girls having finished cleaning their rooms - a chore that took the past seven days.  Cassie had selected a book for Lacey that we have probably checked out from the library 25 times.  The girls sat together on the couch and Cassie read to Lacey, explaining how much she had always loved the story. 

In the evening, Gladis and Gabriela joined us for dinner.  Before they went home, Gladis changed Gaby into a pair of pajamas.  (an old pair of Cassie's, much to her delight!)  Lacey then ran upstairs and returned with a book so that she could read Gaby a bedtime story.  In a short time, Lacey has gone from hating books to wanting to share a love of reading with Gaby.  This experience just wouldn't have been the same with an eBook.  For now, "real" books will continue to play an important role in our home.

Time Traveling

I'm once again coaching Cassie's Odyssey of the Mind team team.  This is a competitive activity in which teams come up with creative solutions to given problems.  Our team is creating a drama about a group of school kids who do good deeds.  The kids must write, edit and memorize a script; design and paint scenery and props; and make costumes.  A key component of the Odyssey program is the requirement that the children do everything themselves.  Adults may teach them how to sew, use power tools, paint, etc.  But, the actual work for the competition must be done by the kids.

You're probably thinking I'm crazy for giving up my almost, non-existent free time to be a coach.  Actually, I don't have any free time, unless sleeping counts.  And, the state of my sanity has crossed my own mind multple times.  But, if you read on, you'll come to understand why I'm happy to be a part of Odyssey.

Teamwork is central to success in Odyssey so we begin our sessions by sitting in a circle and socializing.   The kids talk about home and school.  They tell me about arguments they have had with their siblings and about teachers who they think act inappropriately.  The kids have tried to define "fairness" in the context of school.  They have discussed life and death and asked me questions about heaven.  I love these moments, when the kids are sharing their innermost ramblings with me, unhindered by email or texts.  Early in our Odyssey journey, the kids spent a lot of time discussing the feasibility of time travel. It wasn't surprising that time traveling became the basis of their storyline.   


We have only five weeks left before the competition, so we've begun meeting twice a week.  I've started thinking about time traveling, wondering if we could go back in time a little, to give us more time to prepare.  On Thursday, five team members came home with Cassie after school - four boys and one girl.  As the kids wolfed down a snack, we discussed our goals for the afternoon: to continue editing the script, paint primer on the cardboard scenery, and work on costumes.  The girls settled in with the costumes, quietly chatting with soft music in the background. 


I took the boys out to the driveway to paint, where the flattened refrigerator box awaited them.  We removed jackets and tied plastic bags over shoes.  


"Start in the center, " I advised, "so that you don't paint yourselves in."  Yes, I know that I'm not supposed to help them.  But, as the coach, it's my job to keep them safe.


"Whoa!  I've got paint on my shoes!" yelled one child.  I grabbed his shoes and headed for the kitchen sink.

"Hey! Watch out!" yelled another boy as airborne paint went flying.  I  ran faster.


"Look," yelled someone, "He's got paint on his jacket!"


"Now how did that happen?" I queried.  "Never mind.  Give me your jacket."  I leapt out of the way of more flying paint as I made my way back to the kitchen sink.


We decided to let one coat dry and work on the script.  We made progress amidst stories of farts and belches.  I then decided to leave two boys writing and let only two apply the second coat of paint. 


"Well, we're supposed to be genius kids," began one, "So, how would we react at the beginning of Scene Two?"


"Well," said the other child, "We'd either be super excited that our time machine actually worked. Or, we'd be worrying that our parents would be missing us."  


I got outside just in time to hear one boy yell, "Look!  He's painting your neighbor's grass."  As I went to round up the two boys, another came outside yelling, "Mrs. Minihan!  Come quick!!  My friend got his arms stuck in the rungs of the chair!!"  Right about now I started thinking about time traveling again, wondering if this time I could maybe make the clock go a little faster.

The girls took a break from the costumes and squeezed in around the table with the boys to continue working on the script.  "The humor in our dialog is really good," began one girl.  "But, we need to be careful that sarcasm doesn't detract from our storyline.  You know, we're supposed to be kids who care about helping other people."

"Yes.  We really need to clean up the dialog," added the other girl.  "Did anyone notice how many times we've used the word 'well?'"

I left the room to clean up the fabric scraps left behind by the young seamstresses.  When I returned, the kids were going through my recycling bin.  Within minutes, they had used trash to create a "pet" for the homeless hobo who appears in Scene Three.  And, so, we continued until parents began arriving and the children reluctantly left their masterpiece in progress.

"Mrs. Minihan," asked one.  "Do you think we could get together over the summer and create a sequel?"

"We'll see."  I promised.

Now, I'm scrubbing paint off my shoes and surveying my house.  The kitchen table is covered with pencils, erasers, and scripts. The table has been pushed aside to make space for piles of fabric, lace and ribbons.  There is a six-foot tall stack of boxes leaning against the front closet and about three dozen bottles of acryllic paint are sitting nearby.  The beginnings of a time machine are in the living room.  There is glitter embedded in the floor of every room of the house.   As I scrub away, I realize that I've come to believe in time traveling.  The future sits around my table every week, laughing, creating, negotiating and dreaming.   How lucky I am to be a part of it all.

"Ms. Mittens"