Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

wake up call

With both lads in elementary school this year, we decided to put an alarm clock (the one I used in my former life when it was just my enormous yellow Persian cat Baldwin the former starving stray and me) in the bedroom they share. The idea is to begin cultivating within the lads the sense of responsibility to get themselves up and going, rather than relying on us to do it for them -- or something like that.

I showed the elder lad (who can tell time pretty well) how to set both the actual time and the wake time on the alarm clock (see above about the whole cultivating responsibility thing). Off he went to make sure it worked after so long in cold storage.

The ol' alarm clock does indeed still work, as repeated tests in one- to two-minute increments show.  This surreal experience was not unlike enduring a prolonged test of the Emergency Broadcast System or what I would imagine the master alarm on a submarine or Space Shuttle would sound like.

Six days a week we are all up and at 'em, thanks to the time-tested little digital alarm clock with enough chutzpah to awaken an entire household.

Monday, May 07, 2012

their stories

At last week's storytime, the kids in attendance made their own books as part of the "Day of the Child" celebration at the library.  They got to write and illustrate the stories themselves (or dictate the stories to their caregivers, if necessary).

That's what the elder lass did -- dictate to me a story about a cat who plays at the playground with her sister then has a snack and takes a nap.
elder lass's book about a cat
Clearly, I am not an illustrator of any distinction.

The younger lad's story was, of course, about a robot.  This unnamed robot (not Sammy) dresses up like a dragon and scales some power lines before resting in some grass.

younger lad's robot book
ro.bot book

While I was writing (taking dictation, that is) and illustrating (ahem) the elder lass's tome, the younger lass went to town on some illustrations of her own.  I'm hoping she'll fill in the story eventually.
younger lass's book
younger lass's exuberant artwork, much like her personality.  PS: I'm smitten with my new gold tablecloth.

Complete with snacks and more books, it was a festive conclusion to the school year storytime series our friend the talented librarian does so well.  We're looking forward to summer storytimes starting in June.

Inspired by his siblings' creations, the elder lad starting writing a book of his own -- a chapter book, no less.  I'm eager to see where it leads.
The Tree House, a story the elder lad is writing
"The Tree house" -- a work in progress
In other book-related doings, I've updated a couple of recent book posts, including the follow-up zoo book post and the duck-themed one, with books that came to mind after I'd published the posts and photographs of the books themselves.   I'm always hesitant to assert that I've canvassed the books on a given topic for this very reason.

Whatever shall we do until summer Storytime begins?  Write our own stories, I suppose. I for one will try my hardest not to let our vast quantities of library materials go overdue, which is what usually happens when Storytime is on hiatus and I'm consequently off my routine -- in spite of the safeguards and reminders...

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

animal house

Monday morning, the PJ-clad elder lad (in observance of PJ Day at school) declared, "I really mean this, Mom.  I want a dog." 

As in, "I know I've made this crystal clear on many occasions before.  Why has nothing been done about this?"

As if we need a dog.

So we get our dog fix via books, of course. 
 In his Meet the Dogs of Bedlam Farm, we meet Jon Katz's four funny dogs who live and work with him on his farm.  Each dog has his or her own job to do, from herding animals and guarding the farm to visiting the sick to one whose job isn't readily obvious until the end (spoiler alert: this dog sees to it that the other dogs do not want for company). 

The penguin exhibit is one of our favorite spots at the zoo (but you won't find me at the zoo on spring break *ever* again, just sayin'), so Jean Marzollo's Pierre the Penguin was an instant hit here.  It's the true story of a penguin living at the California Academy of Sciences (a favorite place of my mother's, just sayin') in the San Francisco Bay area who had the unfortunate fate of inexplicably losing his feathers -- and his penguin friends in the process.  His handler tries a few different things to help him, and finally finds the solution in a penguin-sized wet suit she designs and makes herself.  Laura Regan's illustrations bring Pierre, his handler Pam, and the other penguins to life most endearingly.  What would you do if you saw a penguin in a wet suit?


When I was a single gal I had a huge orangy Persian cat named (sir) Baldwin, who had shown up on my parents' driveway bald and starving.  They nursed him back to health such that soon he was neither bald (quite the opposite, actually, being a Persian in all his fluffy glory) nor starving -- though he did suffer from allergies -- eventually resembling in both appearance and demeanor the aloof cartoon feline Garfield.  Friends thought he was named Baldwin because of the piano reference, but no, the veterinarian with whom my parents collaborated to bring the poor thing back from the brink came up with the name (because the cat was bald!). 

The title character in Tumford the Terrible by Nancy Tillman reminds me of Baldwin in many ways, except Tumford is black and white.  Tumford tends to make messes and otherwise goof up, but he cannot bring himself to apologize for his mistakes.  He would rather hide.  Once he finally makes amends for a most embarrassing gaffe, he finds that his people still love him and that life goes on.  As difficult as it can be for any of us to admit wrongdoing and ask for forgiveness, this sweet story helps reinforce the need for doing so and the positive consequences that result from having accepted responsibility for one's actions and showing contrition. 

In a similar vein, David Mellina's Don't Worry, Douglas! focuses on the importance of truthfulness -- even when it's difficult to get the words out. Young Douglas receives a knitted hat from his father, who tells Douglas to take good care of it.  In a moment of exuberance, Douglas snags his hat on a tree branch, and the hat begins to unravel.  Once it becomes clear that Douglas won't be able to fix the hat, he begins to worry about how his father will react to what has become of the hat in light of the admonition the father had given.   In the end, Douglas's father shows him compassion and mercy.

As we work to cultivate virtue within ourselves and our bambini, these last two books help convey the important messages of honesty, accountability, contrition, forgiveness, mercy, and hope.  It isn't always easy to do the right thing.  That doesn't mean it isn't worth doing.

So in spite the elder lad's deep dissatisfaction, we may not have any furry friends (who breathe on their own, that is), happily we can read about the funny antics animals display and draw from them some very important life lessons.
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