Last night we watched The Sound of Music (Two-Disc 40th Anniversary Special Edition because Sarah insisted she's never seen it.  Which, in my family, is akin to declaring you have some sort of horrid disease, but that's another story.  We had a marvelous evening, which ended with the "sing-along" options on the DVD Special Features.  This morning I grew philosophical about the movie, and came up with this list.  Feel free to add your own lessons in the comments!

Everything I Needed to Know I Learned from “The Sound of Music.”

You never know when someone is watching, so behave accordingly. Especially in empty ballrooms.

Guilt is an effective method of behavior modification.

Moonlit gardens = romance. Gazebos score triple bonus points.

Lighting can make a big difference in how attractive a person appears.

Children need a balance of discipline, love, and lots of time to play.

Sewing is a handy skill to have.  Ditto playing the guitar.

Certain gifts require enormous creativity and/or work on the part of the recipient.  Can anyone say, “Yo-de-lay-eeeee”?

When in doubt, sing.  Preferably with full orchestral accompaniment.

If you have a choice between kissing your true love and singing, KISS FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD.

The ability to laugh at yourself is an important character trait, both in yourself and in your partner.

Sometimes conflict is disguised passion.

Money isn’t everything (take *that* Baroness Schrader!).

If you’re not paying attention when your true love is talking, you might miss some important clues.

Men like reassurance that interest/love is reciprocated before expressing it openly.

Withholding information may not be lying, but it's not honest, either.

Patriotism is honorable.  Ditto standing up for what you believe in.

Don’t trust the butler.

Never insult the bad guy, even if you think you have the upper hand.  (He might have a whistle!)

People are often not what they appear to be.  Nuns, for instance.

Stay in shape. Sometimes “Climb Every Mountain” *isn’t metaphorical*.

This is the album cover for the original soundtrack which my mother had (I thought she was so cool when I discovered this in the closet, and I played it repeatedly). The image is from the blog Katnip, which has some photos showing the actors who played the Von Trapp children, 40 years later. Some of them aged really well!

 

When I was very young, my sister and I loved to play outside in our tiny, postage-stamp yard in California. One scenario I recall being enacted repeatedly was one I'll call the "damsel in distress."  One of us would dig a hole in the garden (likely me as Kellie has always been dirt-averse), fill it with water from the green garden hose, then stand in it, pretending it was quick sand and we were slowly being sucked in. Cue the screaming and the dramatic save by the sister, who would pull the shrieking damsel to safety.

I'm sure all the old people who were our neighbors *loved it* when we did this.  If they had their hearing aids in, of course.

This story came to mind this morning as I've been reading a book related to a new series of workshops I'm developing for my job. 

A Child's Work: The Importance of Fantasy Play by Vivian Gussin Paley.  She's taught kindergarten for 37 years.  This amazing lady has also published 12 books at least.  Yes, she makes me tired.  But this book -- a short 111 pages -- is  brilliant.  She focuses on "fantasy play" or what many call "dramatic play" and carefully builds her case for its central role in the education of young children. In this day and age of smashing the academic curriculum into younger and younger classrooms, she beautifully shows how children create intricate and dynamic plots, build language, work through their fears and concerns, and gain critical social skills . . . all while "playing" in the doll corner or block center. With story after story observed in real classrooms over the course of her career (both hers and those around the world where she has gone to mentor teachers in leveraging play as a teaching strategy), Paley calls adults to peer into the complex world of storytelling carried out by children.

My copy of the book bristles like a hedgehog with colored plastic flags marking passages that resonate.  Entire chapters stand out in my mind, such as one illustrating how storytelling and reenacting a child-dictated story on a pretend stage with classmates as actors engaged an autistic child. He was so tuned in to what was happening that he came to the stage and participated with his peers when  his usual habit was to walk around the room in circles and play under a table by himself.

there is much I would like to say about the loss of play and its impact on children.  Paley is infinitely quotable. It's hard to choose which passage to share, but I will leave you with this brief quote for our joint reflection:

Our fantasy characters became our confidants. We would talk and listen to them and tell their stories at will. They did not mask reality; they helped us interpret and explain our feelings about reality.

What are your memories of play?



A Child's Work: The Importance of Fantasy Play

I collect quotes. This week, I've been fortunate enough to see a couple that I've noted down in times of discouragement bear fruit.

"The greatest results in life are usually attained by simple means and the exercise of ordinary qualities. These may for the most part be summed up in these two: common-sense and perseverance."
-- Owen Feltham

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Persistence and determination are omnipotent." -- Calvin Coolidge

What happened?

I was offered a monthly column in the magazine I write for.  Out of the clear blue.

Encouraged, I offered to guest blog for the Children's Literature Comprehensive Database.  And they said yes.

Then, I found the local university's community education program is looking for instructors and new courses -- write up a proposal and submit it.  Currently, no one is doing *anything* for writing, much less writing for children. 

I started brainstorming course ideas and thought I should expand my publications list to include more magazine titles.  And a relatively new magazine I'm a good fit for appeared, soliciting submissions.

On top of it all, my house is empty. Everyone is off pursuing their own interests.  Which means this tortoise can plug away at her craft for hours without interruption!  WAHOO!

That mysterious, intangible state of being we call "flow" has somehow graced my writing life for the moment. I'm trying to avoid holding onto it too tightly, but rather pause in wonder at it's presence.
 (Photo by jq_tan on Photobucket.)

Have any inspirational quotes you'd like to share?  Leave them in the comments, please!

I read this at work today: "I still don't have the ability to look at a situation and figure out the effect of my behavior. I act on impulse. Please be sensitive and keep in mind the magic word, 'patience.'" 

No, it's not from the point of view of a teenager.

It's a two year old speaking.  Theoretically.


Source of picture unknown at this time.  Sorry.  If you are the image owner, please email me!

A friend sent me a link to the blog For Love or Funny.  Yesterday's entry, "How to Find True Love -- a guide for teens"  was spot on, both humorous and insightful, with the photos of portraits from the author's recent museum excursion a delightful, old-fashioned illustration of the timeless truths proffered to teens, but that apply to lovers of all ages.  The last line especially resonates: "For girls: You are responsible for your own happiness. Don't expect your boyfriend, your fiance or your husband to make you happy. That's your job!"

I especially appreciate that she is attempting to parent her teens with humor.  I need to do more of that.

Photo via weheartit

One benefit of my job is finding a kindred spirit on the first floor.  She is a writer/editor and we get to collaborate on publication projects.  It's nice to have someone save me from making an idiot of myself in print.  Or, someone I can discuss color palettes with, as in "This brochure looks great but we'd like to see it in bubble gum colors instead."

Today she shared a link to a piece she wrote for an on-line magazine and it's *so funny* in a wicked, smart, and sassy way: "The Single Mama's Resolutions for 2010."  (It's a nice counterpoint to my earnest post about being resolved.)  What's more, the editor asked her to do a piece on the Single Mama and Valentine's Day -- I can hardly wait.

The photo won't make sense until you read her article . . . so read it already!

(Via the Klipsh community forum.)

If you enjoy typefaces, there's a quick online quiz I took courtesy of Mari at What Maisie Knows.  Note that the password to the quiz is "character."

The quiz itself includes video, with the questions posed by a gentleman whose head never appears in the frame but who speaks to you and writes your answers on his notepad.

I found my assigned type perfect, both in its description and in the assessment of my personality.  What I found slightly creepy is that I believe Perpetua is the type I selected when I bought engraved note cards with my married name (and which I rarely use).

Perpetua Titling Light was designed in 1928 and is based on Roman stone cutting.

"If you are a quiet, old-fashioned soul who would secretly prefer shoed stability to barefooted liberty then Perpetua Titling Light is your type."  (Image below from www.fontshop.com).

Two things I do: review children's books and work in early childhood education.  When I wrote my original review for Children's Lit  (which is posted below and will eventually appear on the Barnes & Noble Web site), I suggested that it would be a good option for story time and reading aloud to groups because the illustrations are so BIG.  On my Website, I indicate it's a good selection for preschoolers.

Then, this week I attended a training on the Infant and Toddler Environmental Rating Scale (Revised) taught by one of the authors.  To say she is an expert in early childhood education is an understatement.  She said, quoting someone else I think, that there are three things all children in America will be exposed to: violence, junk food, and prejudice.  She advocates keeping fairy tales out of children's diets until they are able to distinguish fantasy from reality, which is *not* in preschool.  I asked her how we should explain that to the local kindergarten teachers and school administrators, who want all children to come to kindergarten knowing nursery rhymes and fairy tales.  The Expert responded: "Whose fairy tales?  Japanese?  Native American?  Or just Western European?  It's a long-range issue you'll have to tackle with the school district."  I understand her arguments, however . . .

I'm conflicted.  I think this is a great book.  I think that most kids have watched enough television, cartoons, movies, and Disney versions of the fairy tales to know they aren't real.  I mean, aren't the talking animals a dead give-away? Could fairy tales, even as simply worded as the ones in this collection, scare small children?  Yes, and perhaps the age range shouldn't be 3-7.  Parent reviews on different Web sites are mixed -- some of their kids love it and some were horrified by Granny disappearing down the wolf's open mouth.  I see  these stories as the most basic introduction to classic themes, and what is any story without conflict?  (This argument is likely the reason for the slew of "huggy kissy I love you sweetums" picture books on the market these days.)

So I ask you, especially those of you who are parents, what do you think?

Yummy: Eight Favorite Fairy Tales

Lucy Cousins

     Clever animals, daring adventures, and gruesome ends for the bad guys pop off the pages of Lucy Cousins’ collection of eight beloved fairy tales with the common element of food. The popular author-illustrator applies her characteristic bold art style to retellings of the classics: Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Billy Goats Gruff, The Enormous Turnip, Henny Penny, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, The Little Red Hen, The Three Little Pigs, and The Musicians of Bremen. Though Cousins uses simple language to tell the stories to a younger audience, she manages to convey the wit and wonder of these tales with an admirable economy of language. Her illustrations fill the page with strong lines, vivid colors, and significant events that bring the story to spine-tingling life: the big bad wolf’s head sails across the spread when the heroic hunter rescues Little Red Riding Hood and  her grandmother, the hairy troll with his big warty nose as he encounters Big Billy Goat Gruff, a little pig with his pot full of wolf for supper. Though some parents may be squeamish about sharing the unvarnished versions of these fairy tales with youngsters, children will relish the rollicking good time they’ll have as good triumphs over evil, teamwork is rewarded, and humans are outwitted by animals. The book’s large format makes this an ideal read-aloud for story time, and large text occasionally sprawled across the spread will engage curiosity in early literacy experiences.

BIBLIO: 2009, Candlewick Press, Ages 3 to 7, $18.99.

REVIEWER: Keri Collins Lewis

FORMAT: Picture Book

ISBN: 978-0-7636-4474-1

 

The Benevolent Postcard Society is the creative project of Lori Langille, a collage artist and blogger at Automatism.  I heard about this collaborative art project from my friend Mari.  She's a member, and thanks to Facebook, two California friends are also members. Each month we receive the name and address of another member, and our task is to send him or her a postcard on the first day of the month.  The first mailing was in September, and the project will last for a year.  As members live all over the world, one major discovery has been the vagaries of the various postal systems.

To date, I've received 3 postcards for the 5 months.  Two have been from Canada (Lori lives in Canada), one from Massachusetts.  I've sent postcards to Canada and Ireland.  What interesting to me is that both Canadian postcards have been scenes of cities at night.  My delightful January postcard is homemade, and pictured below with remnants of the snow/ice.  Thanks to Mary for making it!  I hope to  make at least one postcard before the project is over. 

I *adore* baked goods.  This photo by rogale marcinskie makes me drool. (Found it on Flickr in the Perfect Pastries Pool.)

I also adore baking goods.  Especially for people who enthusiastically receive them, and praise my cooking abilities. 

Sooooo, I laughed very very loudly when my dear friend Jana sent me the magnet below.  It's so true. 



Food is love.  Virtual coconut macaroons and a pan of shortbread to you, my friend.  Thanks!