Good ones to start with for children not used to listening for extended periods:
Roald Dahl's The Twits.
Clever Polly and its sequels - Catherine Storr
Pippi Longstocking - Astrid Lindgren
The Snow Queen - Hans Christian Anderson
Winnie the Pooh - A A Milne
Little Pear (and sequel) - Eleanor Lattimore
Truly excellent books
All of these books are enjoyable both by children of all ages, and by the parent reading them.
Little House in the Big Woods - and all 8 of its sequels - by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Heidi, Johanna Spyri.
Clever Polly and the Stupid Wolf, Catherine Storr. Has 3 excellent sequels.
Winnie the Pooh, A A Milne. Sequels are also excellent. Older children appreciate the humour.
The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
My Side of the Mountain, Jean Craighead George. The sequels are not so good.
Over Sea, Under Stone, Susan Cooper. May be frightening for younger children. The sequels are all superb.
The Snow Goose, Paul ???. Sad.
The Call of the Wild, Jack London. Contains some frightening/upsetting scenes.
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, C S Lewis. Some children enjoy the whole series, but others will only enjoy this one, and The Horse and His Boy, Prince Caspian, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the The Silver Chair. The last book (The Last Battle) is racist and quite overwhelmingly religious and could be said to glorify the death of young people. (The Horse and His Boy also contains anti-Muslim overtones.) The Magician's Nephew is quite a good book but not in the truly excellent category.
I Am David, Anne Holm. Sad but beautiful.
Bridge to Terabithia, Katherine Paterson. Sad but beautiful.
Watership Down, Richard Adams. Sad and scary bits, but not as scary as the movie.
The Hobbit, J R R Tolkien. A little scary.
The Railway Children, Edith Nesbit.
Charlotte's Web, E B White.
The King's Equal, Katherine Paterson.
Helen Keller's Teacher (forgotten the author).
Peter Pan, James Barrie. Make sure it isn't abridged.
Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll. And the sequel.
The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery.
Just about anything by Roald Dahl - although some children find these too scary.
Surprisingly good books
The Voyage of Dr Dolittle, Hugh Lofting. Great for animal lovers, but after the first two books in the series they become far less interesting.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams. The sequels are not so amusing for children.
Pippi Longstocking, Astrid Lindgren. The sequels are just as good, but too many in a row might get boring.
A New Hope, George Lucas. The original novel, for Star Wars fans.
Around the World in 80 Days, Jules Verne.
A Little Princess, Frances Hodgson Burnett.
Judith Kerr, When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit. For slightly older children.
The Snow Queen, Hans Christian Andersen.
Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson. A little frightening.
Swallows and Amazons, Arthur Ransome. Have only read the first sequel. For slightly older children.
Five Children and It, Edith Nesbit. There are two sequels which are just as good.
Excellent but possibly for slightly older children
Little Women, Louisa May Alcott. Sequels also good.
Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery. Sequels also good.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Rough times
Two posts in one day again. I wrote the previous post sitting on the couch about 6 hours ago, while Ben iced and cut up a chocolate brownie. My plan to rest was a little difficult to stick to when the children were so busy. We came back to Roman numerals, and Firstborn wrote them all out on the blackboard for Pozz to learn. I so love it when Firstborn teaches his siblings things instead of me. He actually enjoys it too. And Pozz and Daughter seem to respond to the novelty of hearing someone else drone on at them for a change.
Then I wrote the children a book, which inspired Pozz and Daughter to write their own books. Meanwhile Firstborn was making dinner. After dinner we skyped our lost friends in the stinky old northern hemisphere, bathed the younger two, and then we had fireworks, and then dessert (raspberries with passionfruit curd, yummmmmmmmmm), and I somehow got them to bed by 9.20. Firstborn was also busy reading "The Boy Mechanic" and doing two experiments, one of which involved the surface tension of water. Physics: check.
Best of all, we had a nice day, a peaceful day, a no-arguments-while-mum's-on-the-phone day and a quiet relaxed chats on the couch day. It didn't matter that my head was blocked up. Everyone was helping and everyone was happy with everyone else.
It used to be that way every day, but we've had some rough times lately. Firstborn has been through the mill, and he's been behaving like a child who has been through the mill, ie very badly. Two nights ago, he came upstairs after bedtime to talk to me, and I really didn't feel like talking to him, because we had been at loggerheads all day, but I had reached the point where anger had given way to sorrow, and so I guess I was more receptive to what he had to say. The funny thing about an argument is that you know exactly what you find wrong with the other person, but when you finally start to talk calmly, the other person comes up with things that are a complete surprise to you. So, what Firstborn wanted was more structure, more routine, more predictability.
I guess I didn't expect a child to have the insight or self-knowledge to come and request that. We started with food. He talked about what we should eat. A healthy and substantial breakfast. He doesn't like it when The Parents sit on the couch drinking coffee at breakfast time. We do this because it's our one moment together, and it's sunny there. But it has been breaking up breakfast. That and the fact that nobody ate much. So, we have renewed our commitment to breakfast together, at the table.
Then he wanted more structure. He wants to do maths. I finally have a maths book that I am happy with, and after attending an information evening I've figured out that it's roughly year 9 level, which is where I had pegged him, so it's not too easy or too hard.
I guess I am going to push "inspire" pretty close to "require". Now that we have a routine that he asked for, I don't want it to peter out after 3 days. If a child doesn't want to do maths, he needn't, but he can sit quietly at the table while the others do it.
The other newly structured part of our day might be some silent reading time. This happens quite often spontaneously. After we come back from the library there is always half an hour's blissful silence, despite the fact that only one of my 3 children can actually properly technically read. But I am thinking of encouraging that a little more, and leading Ben away from the endless Asterixes and Lucky Lukes, towards some of the cool novels that I have found at the library, which are languishing on the windowsill.
So, yes, a better day. I almost thought I had a teenager on my hands for a while there. I hope I have a little more grace before that descends on me for real.
Then I wrote the children a book, which inspired Pozz and Daughter to write their own books. Meanwhile Firstborn was making dinner. After dinner we skyped our lost friends in the stinky old northern hemisphere, bathed the younger two, and then we had fireworks, and then dessert (raspberries with passionfruit curd, yummmmmmmmmm), and I somehow got them to bed by 9.20. Firstborn was also busy reading "The Boy Mechanic" and doing two experiments, one of which involved the surface tension of water. Physics: check.
Best of all, we had a nice day, a peaceful day, a no-arguments-while-mum's-on-the-phone day and a quiet relaxed chats on the couch day. It didn't matter that my head was blocked up. Everyone was helping and everyone was happy with everyone else.
It used to be that way every day, but we've had some rough times lately. Firstborn has been through the mill, and he's been behaving like a child who has been through the mill, ie very badly. Two nights ago, he came upstairs after bedtime to talk to me, and I really didn't feel like talking to him, because we had been at loggerheads all day, but I had reached the point where anger had given way to sorrow, and so I guess I was more receptive to what he had to say. The funny thing about an argument is that you know exactly what you find wrong with the other person, but when you finally start to talk calmly, the other person comes up with things that are a complete surprise to you. So, what Firstborn wanted was more structure, more routine, more predictability.
I guess I didn't expect a child to have the insight or self-knowledge to come and request that. We started with food. He talked about what we should eat. A healthy and substantial breakfast. He doesn't like it when The Parents sit on the couch drinking coffee at breakfast time. We do this because it's our one moment together, and it's sunny there. But it has been breaking up breakfast. That and the fact that nobody ate much. So, we have renewed our commitment to breakfast together, at the table.
Then he wanted more structure. He wants to do maths. I finally have a maths book that I am happy with, and after attending an information evening I've figured out that it's roughly year 9 level, which is where I had pegged him, so it's not too easy or too hard.
I guess I am going to push "inspire" pretty close to "require". Now that we have a routine that he asked for, I don't want it to peter out after 3 days. If a child doesn't want to do maths, he needn't, but he can sit quietly at the table while the others do it.
The other newly structured part of our day might be some silent reading time. This happens quite often spontaneously. After we come back from the library there is always half an hour's blissful silence, despite the fact that only one of my 3 children can actually properly technically read. But I am thinking of encouraging that a little more, and leading Ben away from the endless Asterixes and Lucky Lukes, towards some of the cool novels that I have found at the library, which are languishing on the windowsill.
So, yes, a better day. I almost thought I had a teenager on my hands for a while there. I hope I have a little more grace before that descends on me for real.
Wednesday, 4 November 2009
My head is made of concrete
I have been suffering from Rose Flu for the last couple of weeks. I've decided to call it Rose Flu because nobody else ever catches it, and because it sounds just a little derogatory - like "man flu" - which helps me not to take myself too seriously. I think I get it when I eat gluten, but my sinuses are so blocked, and this time my tongue is sore too, which is weird and horrible, and I have a headache most afternoons.
And in the middle of this I was silly enough to go and run for two hours straight, because I thought I was getting over it. Turns out I wasn't, so I'm paying all week for the pride of completing my first half marathon. I don't so much mind the pain, as the sense that two weeks of my life are going by without me managing to get all the stuff done that is screaming to be done.
At least we are managing to do some things. Firstborn got to go to rock climbing yesterday even though I felt a bit gruesome, and that was lucky because J10 was there specifically to be his climbing partner, so he had a proper climbing partner and had a much better time than usual.
Firstborn's guitar lessons have finally started again too. And I think I will make it through Pozz's birthday party, which is this weekend, but which is a bit quieter than our usual events.
Firstborn has been asking for some more routine. I have taken him up on this suggestion with alacrity. I have re-written the chores list so that our day flows better. Get up and get dressed and make your bed before you come upstairs, so that you don't have to go back down and do it later. Then we'll try to be at the breakfast table at the same time. Now, we have always done this, but for a while there, the children were turning their noses up at the breakfast on offer. So, only partly by design, I let them go on with a very minimal breakfast, to see if hunger would make them think twice about the "breakfast is too much bother" attitude. And sure enough, Firstborn now wants a substantial breakfast that will last him till lunchtime, since we're always too busy to have more than an apple for morning tea. So he is making eggs each morning and everyone can have eggs, toast, muesli, or all three.
Then we just have to clean up breakfast, vacuum, do the washing, clean our teeth, feed the hens, empty the compost, and clean bathrooms, which really doesn't take too long. And then we have our "structured learning time". Firstborn practises guitar while the others read with me. Then we have half an hour table time, which is almost synonymous with maths time. Pozz refused to do maths this morning, which amused me because he had done some maths immediately beforehand (could our car drive to Wellington on one tank of gas?) and immediately afterwards (what are 6, 4 and 5 in Roman numerals?) He took himself off to read a book instead.
Then we read "Caddie Woodlawn". What started as one chapter became four, because it got so exciting, and Daughter was hopping on my knee saying, "Mummy, I'm scared!" That was a pretty nice time of the day. As it always is.
And the rest of the day is meant to be rest for me, and independent play for the children. And indeed it has been. They played happily during an hour of phone calls, and the two little ones pursued their love of lego, while Firstborn perfected his Thomas track.
When they started to get scratchy I sent them to perform an obstacle course. Pozz didn't want to. Daughter and Ben got started but Daughter lagged behind and then had no one to take her to the oak tree. Pozz took pity on her and offered to escort her.
They got back just before the rain started pouring down again. Refreshed.
Pozz asked me how we could keep a memory of his trip to the oak tree. We talked about the blog.
Pozz and Daughter's trip to the oak tree:
And in the middle of this I was silly enough to go and run for two hours straight, because I thought I was getting over it. Turns out I wasn't, so I'm paying all week for the pride of completing my first half marathon. I don't so much mind the pain, as the sense that two weeks of my life are going by without me managing to get all the stuff done that is screaming to be done.
At least we are managing to do some things. Firstborn got to go to rock climbing yesterday even though I felt a bit gruesome, and that was lucky because J10 was there specifically to be his climbing partner, so he had a proper climbing partner and had a much better time than usual.
Firstborn's guitar lessons have finally started again too. And I think I will make it through Pozz's birthday party, which is this weekend, but which is a bit quieter than our usual events.
Firstborn has been asking for some more routine. I have taken him up on this suggestion with alacrity. I have re-written the chores list so that our day flows better. Get up and get dressed and make your bed before you come upstairs, so that you don't have to go back down and do it later. Then we'll try to be at the breakfast table at the same time. Now, we have always done this, but for a while there, the children were turning their noses up at the breakfast on offer. So, only partly by design, I let them go on with a very minimal breakfast, to see if hunger would make them think twice about the "breakfast is too much bother" attitude. And sure enough, Firstborn now wants a substantial breakfast that will last him till lunchtime, since we're always too busy to have more than an apple for morning tea. So he is making eggs each morning and everyone can have eggs, toast, muesli, or all three.
Then we just have to clean up breakfast, vacuum, do the washing, clean our teeth, feed the hens, empty the compost, and clean bathrooms, which really doesn't take too long. And then we have our "structured learning time". Firstborn practises guitar while the others read with me. Then we have half an hour table time, which is almost synonymous with maths time. Pozz refused to do maths this morning, which amused me because he had done some maths immediately beforehand (could our car drive to Wellington on one tank of gas?) and immediately afterwards (what are 6, 4 and 5 in Roman numerals?) He took himself off to read a book instead.
Then we read "Caddie Woodlawn". What started as one chapter became four, because it got so exciting, and Daughter was hopping on my knee saying, "Mummy, I'm scared!" That was a pretty nice time of the day. As it always is.
And the rest of the day is meant to be rest for me, and independent play for the children. And indeed it has been. They played happily during an hour of phone calls, and the two little ones pursued their love of lego, while Firstborn perfected his Thomas track.
When they started to get scratchy I sent them to perform an obstacle course. Pozz didn't want to. Daughter and Ben got started but Daughter lagged behind and then had no one to take her to the oak tree. Pozz took pity on her and offered to escort her.
They got back just before the rain started pouring down again. Refreshed.
Pozz asked me how we could keep a memory of his trip to the oak tree. We talked about the blog.
Pozz and Daughter's trip to the oak tree:
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Kilometre by kilometre account of marathon
I'm going to write my proper post about my half marathon later, but while it's fresh in my mind I want to write down a kilometre by kilometre account. Too boring for you - this is just for me!
K1: started nearly 6 minutes after the gun. Really stuck in the crowd. This was my slowest km at 6 1/2 minutes. Remember to start further forward next time!
K2: astonished myself by doing it in 5 1/2 mins without particularly trying. Started to hope I could do it in under 2 hours.
K3: missed the km marker. Probably because I was faster than I realised and looked too late.
K4: drinks station. I didn't drink. I think by this stage I was under 23 mins, ie had gained a minute on my 6-minute-k pace. I knew I had to gain 6 minutes overall in order to finish under 2 hours. As I hadn't had any idea of my pace before starting the race, this is when I started doing the maths to figure out whether I could make it or not!
K5: I remember passing this and couldn't believe I was on the second quarter already (virtually). I had basically set myself at race pace. Can't remember the time.
K6: I got to this in about 34 1/2 minutes.
K7: 40 1/2 minutes I think - I can't quite remember. I realised this was exactly a third, so I would only make 2 hours if I upped the pace. Only chance of doing that really was a spurt of speed at the end. I wasn't too worried - pretty pleased with beating 6 minute ks.
K8: Drink station, Taharoto Rd. I grabbed 3 sips of water. Didn't realise how wet my feet would get - unavoidable. Can't recall time.
K9: about 52 minutes.
K10: 58 minutes. I was stoked at having saved two minutes already. However, I realised that if I went at the same pace (ie saved 2 minutes over the next 10k) that would only give me 4 minutes for the final k (in under 2 hours). Also, the next 10k involved the 3 big hills - Lake Rd, Harbour Bridge, and Curran St. So I didn't really think I could make 2 hours, but certainly wasn't giving up. Felt like I had a lot in store still - not tired yet.
K10.5 - passed half way - I thought there'd be someone on the halfway mark, but there wasn't, so I didn't know exactly when I passed it.
Around this point I stopped being able to see many kilometre marks. I remember seeing one at 1.09 - must have been 12k. In fact I think I did one of these kilometres in 6 minutes even - the one that included the Lake Road hill. Hardly surprising given the hill, but I remember being disappointed. The 13k mark should have been around Stafford St, but I missed it, and didn't see another until I'd run all the way across the bridge and up Curran St and Sarsfield St. Then I saw the 16k mark, and realised I had only 5k to go. That was at exactly 1.32. So I had 28 minutes to do 5k. It felt do-able. I did two 5k runs last year - one in 25 minutes, one in 27 minutes. This was a bit different as I'd already run 16k! But there were absolutely no hills - in fact only a downhill, then flat. And then again, my feet and legs were hurting!
Notes about the bridge - I passed easily a hundred people going over the harbour bridge. Hills are definitely my strength.
The surface of the bridge was what stuffed my feet - esp going downhill.
The entire race, I passed people continuously - right up to the finish line - a few people every 30 seconds. Only about 4 people seemed to pace me the entire race (not counting the first minute or two) - although there could have been others on the other side as the stream of runners was quite wide at times.
Because I passed everyone so quickly, I never felt connected with any other runner, or indeed any sense of personal competition. I just passed everyone. It's sobering to remember that 2400 people finished before me! (Only 700 of them were women!)
K16 - 1.32.
K17 - 1.37 1/2. On target!
K18 - missed it!
K19 - 1.48 exactly. Could I keep it up?
K20 - 1.54. I was gutted that I'd been trying so hard and I still only got there in 6 minutes. I had nothing to spare!
K21 - 1.59.32. As I rounded the last bend I saw Davey and the kids cheering me on. Lots of people were shouting "you're doing well!" but I really wanted them to shout "RUN!" I had vivid memories of my last race over 5k - coming fourth in a cross country, aged 10! Also thought about midwives shouting "push!" I couldn't believe how fine I was cutting it - was horrified at the thought that I was going to be just over 2 hours! As I crossed the finish line the runner in front of me slowed down seconds early and I nearly ploughed into her! It was also frustrating that the crowd didn't know that I was going for under 2 hours - because I started so late, the official time was showing 2.05 already - fortunately I had a transponder on my foot which recorded the truth!
K1: started nearly 6 minutes after the gun. Really stuck in the crowd. This was my slowest km at 6 1/2 minutes. Remember to start further forward next time!
K2: astonished myself by doing it in 5 1/2 mins without particularly trying. Started to hope I could do it in under 2 hours.
K3: missed the km marker. Probably because I was faster than I realised and looked too late.
K4: drinks station. I didn't drink. I think by this stage I was under 23 mins, ie had gained a minute on my 6-minute-k pace. I knew I had to gain 6 minutes overall in order to finish under 2 hours. As I hadn't had any idea of my pace before starting the race, this is when I started doing the maths to figure out whether I could make it or not!
K5: I remember passing this and couldn't believe I was on the second quarter already (virtually). I had basically set myself at race pace. Can't remember the time.
K6: I got to this in about 34 1/2 minutes.
K7: 40 1/2 minutes I think - I can't quite remember. I realised this was exactly a third, so I would only make 2 hours if I upped the pace. Only chance of doing that really was a spurt of speed at the end. I wasn't too worried - pretty pleased with beating 6 minute ks.
K8: Drink station, Taharoto Rd. I grabbed 3 sips of water. Didn't realise how wet my feet would get - unavoidable. Can't recall time.
K9: about 52 minutes.
K10: 58 minutes. I was stoked at having saved two minutes already. However, I realised that if I went at the same pace (ie saved 2 minutes over the next 10k) that would only give me 4 minutes for the final k (in under 2 hours). Also, the next 10k involved the 3 big hills - Lake Rd, Harbour Bridge, and Curran St. So I didn't really think I could make 2 hours, but certainly wasn't giving up. Felt like I had a lot in store still - not tired yet.
K10.5 - passed half way - I thought there'd be someone on the halfway mark, but there wasn't, so I didn't know exactly when I passed it.
Around this point I stopped being able to see many kilometre marks. I remember seeing one at 1.09 - must have been 12k. In fact I think I did one of these kilometres in 6 minutes even - the one that included the Lake Road hill. Hardly surprising given the hill, but I remember being disappointed. The 13k mark should have been around Stafford St, but I missed it, and didn't see another until I'd run all the way across the bridge and up Curran St and Sarsfield St. Then I saw the 16k mark, and realised I had only 5k to go. That was at exactly 1.32. So I had 28 minutes to do 5k. It felt do-able. I did two 5k runs last year - one in 25 minutes, one in 27 minutes. This was a bit different as I'd already run 16k! But there were absolutely no hills - in fact only a downhill, then flat. And then again, my feet and legs were hurting!
Notes about the bridge - I passed easily a hundred people going over the harbour bridge. Hills are definitely my strength.
The surface of the bridge was what stuffed my feet - esp going downhill.
The entire race, I passed people continuously - right up to the finish line - a few people every 30 seconds. Only about 4 people seemed to pace me the entire race (not counting the first minute or two) - although there could have been others on the other side as the stream of runners was quite wide at times.
Because I passed everyone so quickly, I never felt connected with any other runner, or indeed any sense of personal competition. I just passed everyone. It's sobering to remember that 2400 people finished before me! (Only 700 of them were women!)
K16 - 1.32.
K17 - 1.37 1/2. On target!
K18 - missed it!
K19 - 1.48 exactly. Could I keep it up?
K20 - 1.54. I was gutted that I'd been trying so hard and I still only got there in 6 minutes. I had nothing to spare!
K21 - 1.59.32. As I rounded the last bend I saw Davey and the kids cheering me on. Lots of people were shouting "you're doing well!" but I really wanted them to shout "RUN!" I had vivid memories of my last race over 5k - coming fourth in a cross country, aged 10! Also thought about midwives shouting "push!" I couldn't believe how fine I was cutting it - was horrified at the thought that I was going to be just over 2 hours! As I crossed the finish line the runner in front of me slowed down seconds early and I nearly ploughed into her! It was also frustrating that the crowd didn't know that I was going for under 2 hours - because I started so late, the official time was showing 2.05 already - fortunately I had a transponder on my foot which recorded the truth!
Monday, 26 October 2009
Labour Weekend Holiday
This week I have been on a crusade to make things a bit less boring for Firstborn, who is feeling lonely because of the virtually simultaneous departure of virtually all of his friends from our city.
And I have done pretty well, because I managed to jack up two nights away at our family land up north, with the lovely B family.
There was one rather large flaw in the plan, which is that Husband couldn't come. Let's face it, Husband can never come, whereas we can go whenever we want because the children don't have school. But the children really don't like spending more than a day or two without their dad (even though they see him so little anyway) so we have had to keep trips away to a minimum. And also, one feels rather sorry for the bachelor getting home to such a quiet empty house.
However, I realised I erred on the side of solidarity with Husband, to the point where Firstborn has been feeling the tedium of the sameness of his father's holidayless life. So when Mrs B proposed a holiday, we said YES.
And on Friday we got up and cleaned up and packed up and got in the car and LEFT TOWN.
(Photos will follow if I can get people to email them to me!)
Fate conspired against me ever getting to the Family Land, because I first had to renew my driver's licence and then replace a blown brake light. However, we did eventually manage to get away, and we mostly beat the holiday traffic by leaving before school finished. Suddenly, three of us were plunging naked into the water of our own almost-kind-of-private beach. (Pozz said it was too cold.)
That was enough for me - that wash-the-stress-off bracing swim made it all worthwhile. But that was only the start of beautiful things. The B family arrived and I had the satisfaction of seeing the children pair off with their special friends and run off into the wilderness. We cooked and put up tents, racing to beat the dark and cold. We put the children to bed and sat under a blanket, knitting and reading in the semi-outdoors, enjoying the clear night stars. We woke up early in the morning for more swims. Children disappeared on wilderness adventures again. We ate barbecued food. We walked around the land, grubbing out thistles and ragwort. We swam again and again. We drank coffee. The B family left and Grandma and Grandad arrived. We read books. We got ever so slightly sunburnt. We lay in a hammock under a pohutukawa tree, looking at the sky.
After three days and two nights, we came home in time for a dinner date with the Husband and father. The rain came back, and normal life resumed, with doctor's visits (yes, on Labour Day, yes, long wait) and queues at the garden shop. But things feel a little different. Firstborn did not mope today - he picked silverbeet and parsley and celery, and made dinner. Our holiday did just what holidays should.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Time wasting post
Just coz I feel like wasting your time...
You're meant to give one word answers...
1. Where is your cell / mobile phone? Dunno.
2. Your hair? Disaster
3. Your mother? Hello!
4. Your father? Forgotten.
5. Your favourite food? passionfruit.
6. Your dream last night? gone.
7. Your favourite drink? limejuice.
8. Your dream/goal? sail
9. What room are you in? playroom.
10. Your hobby? knitting
11. Your fear? holocaust
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? sailing
13. Where were you last night? asleep
14. Something that you aren’t? sporty
15. Muffins? gluten-free
16. Wish list item? husband
17. Where did you grow up? west-auckland
18. Last thing you did? blog-surfed
19. What are you wearing? trackpants .
20. Your TV? huge
21. Your pet? Cluck.
22. Friends? Everywhere.
23. Your life? Mixed
24. Your mood? Tired.
25. Missing someone? YES!
26. Vehicle? small.
27. Something you’re not wearing? make-up.
28. Your favorite store? No
29. Your favorite color? blue .
30. When was the last time you laughed? Pozz .
31. Last time you cried? Yesterday
32. Your best friend? Many
33. One place that I go to over and over? kitchen.
34. One person who emails me regularly? Ray White Manukau.
35. Favorite place to eat? sunshine.
You're meant to give one word answers...
1. Where is your cell / mobile phone? Dunno.
2. Your hair? Disaster
3. Your mother? Hello!
4. Your father? Forgotten.
5. Your favourite food? passionfruit.
6. Your dream last night? gone.
7. Your favourite drink? limejuice.
8. Your dream/goal? sail
9. What room are you in? playroom.
10. Your hobby? knitting
11. Your fear? holocaust
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? sailing
13. Where were you last night? asleep
14. Something that you aren’t? sporty
15. Muffins? gluten-free
16. Wish list item? husband
17. Where did you grow up? west-auckland
18. Last thing you did? blog-surfed
19. What are you wearing? trackpants .
20. Your TV? huge
21. Your pet? Cluck.
22. Friends? Everywhere.
23. Your life? Mixed
24. Your mood? Tired.
25. Missing someone? YES!
26. Vehicle? small.
27. Something you’re not wearing? make-up.
28. Your favorite store? No
29. Your favorite color? blue .
30. When was the last time you laughed? Pozz .
31. Last time you cried? Yesterday
32. Your best friend? Many
33. One place that I go to over and over? kitchen.
34. One person who emails me regularly? Ray White Manukau.
35. Favorite place to eat? sunshine.
Friday, 16 October 2009
Literacy
I've been thinking recently about literacy.
Lovely Physiotherapist Friend was visiting today, and my mother was here too. LPF started talking about an anaconda swallowing a deer, and Pozz remarked that he had seen a picture of an snake swallowing an elephant. My mother started patiently explaining why a snake could not swallow an elephant, which tempted me just too much. "It is just that my son is more literate than you," I piped up.
Well, I couldn't resist. There he is making literary allusions that his grandmother is mistaking for, well, an error of zoology. I had to explain that such a picture does indeed exist, and is found on page one of Antoine de Saint-Exupery's "The Little Prince", a book which no child should miss out on.
I had indeed been writing this morning a list of books which no child should miss out on. It was quite long, even though I was only listing the books for four-to-ten-year-olds. It was long enough that you would have to devote quite a lot of time to reading these books, especially if you are planning to enjoy them together by reading aloud.
Of course we have been devoting lots of time to reading these books, because that is the mainstay of our educational programme. And so I have children who are, already, quite well-versed in the children's classics. And some excellent books not traditionally viewed as children's books, such as "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" and "The Call of the Wild".
Today we walked up to the village shops and bought a book that Pozz had asked me to order for him. Pozz came with me, and seized the book with delight and carried it home.
This child loves books. He thinks about them, he quotes from them, he plays from them, he draws pictures from them. He has taken a book to bed each night since he was a tiny baby. He looks at them when he wakes up in the morning, and again during the day. He asks his mother, his father, his brother, and anyone else in sight, to read to him.
And he has read so many classics. He is a very well-read child. I spoke to a bright, early reader recently, a ten year old girl. I wrote down 12 or 15 books that I would hate her to miss out on - none of which she had read. Pozz has read all of them.
So I am ready for the next person who quizzes me about my "non-reader". Not for me the mumblings about dyslexia and "better late than early". I will simply inform my questioner that he is an "exceptionally well-read child" and "highly literate".That should do it.
Lovely Physiotherapist Friend was visiting today, and my mother was here too. LPF started talking about an anaconda swallowing a deer, and Pozz remarked that he had seen a picture of an snake swallowing an elephant. My mother started patiently explaining why a snake could not swallow an elephant, which tempted me just too much. "It is just that my son is more literate than you," I piped up.
Well, I couldn't resist. There he is making literary allusions that his grandmother is mistaking for, well, an error of zoology. I had to explain that such a picture does indeed exist, and is found on page one of Antoine de Saint-Exupery's "The Little Prince", a book which no child should miss out on.
I had indeed been writing this morning a list of books which no child should miss out on. It was quite long, even though I was only listing the books for four-to-ten-year-olds. It was long enough that you would have to devote quite a lot of time to reading these books, especially if you are planning to enjoy them together by reading aloud.
Of course we have been devoting lots of time to reading these books, because that is the mainstay of our educational programme. And so I have children who are, already, quite well-versed in the children's classics. And some excellent books not traditionally viewed as children's books, such as "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" and "The Call of the Wild".
Today we walked up to the village shops and bought a book that Pozz had asked me to order for him. Pozz came with me, and seized the book with delight and carried it home.
This child loves books. He thinks about them, he quotes from them, he plays from them, he draws pictures from them. He has taken a book to bed each night since he was a tiny baby. He looks at them when he wakes up in the morning, and again during the day. He asks his mother, his father, his brother, and anyone else in sight, to read to him.
And he has read so many classics. He is a very well-read child. I spoke to a bright, early reader recently, a ten year old girl. I wrote down 12 or 15 books that I would hate her to miss out on - none of which she had read. Pozz has read all of them.
So I am ready for the next person who quizzes me about my "non-reader". Not for me the mumblings about dyslexia and "better late than early". I will simply inform my questioner that he is an "exceptionally well-read child" and "highly literate".That should do it.
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