A friend of mine has been having some odd chest and neck pain, and had what is known as a "nuclear stress test" on Thursday afternoon.
After the doctors at the clinic viewed the test results, they chose to rush her to the hospital, thereby giving all of her friends (figurative) heart attacks.
She had an angiogram yesterday. Her heart seems to be fine, and no artery blockages. "You seem to be fine," they told her. "You can probably go home this afternoon."
Of course, in the late afternoon, they told her they wanted her to stay overnight for observation.
God damn the medical profession.
To cover themselves and make themselves seem like they really knew what they were talking about, they loaded my friend up with all kinds of precautions about not gripping things or picking things up for days because they had to insert the catheter in her wrist and it all has to heal.
My friend is a much better patient than I am. I'm so skeptical of the medical profession that I would pretty much ignore all of that nit-picky cautionary advice and go on my own proprioception instead, at least as long as the tests showed I was relatively healthy. My friend, though, has a host of other medical issues, and so she doesn't monkey around.
She got released from the hospital this afternoon and will be staying with us for a day or two. I can tell you this, my house is a LOT more relaxing than the hospital. She's on the couch in the TV room, and has been asleep for 3 hours.
Anyway, the girls and I spent the better part of two days in the hospital, and not a peep of complaint from either of them. They hung out and read and did their work. So I took the Best Kids in the Whole World to Chili's last night. I am feeling very fortunate right now, to have my health, fairly low stress, a lovely husband, and wonderful children. I don't need anything else. Not even a beautiful piece of stained glass for my bathroom. Really, I don't need it.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Don't suck a plastic cup really hard up to your face for an extended period of time
Madison was experimenting the other night. She was taking a hard plastic cup -- one of those Tupperware ones -- and creating a vacuum, sucking it up against her mouth and chin really hard for a few minutes.
She now has a giant purple bruise all over her chin, from her mouth downward. She looks something like a 3-year-old who has just slobbered over a giant purple lollypop.
Of course, I don't tell her that. "Why, no, Madison, it looks fine, you don't even notice unless you look up close."
Of course, when you DO look up close, you want to laugh.
As a result, we had some interesting anatomy explanations about capillaries and what might cause them to break, and what happens when the blood leaks out from them. (She found out, obviously.)
Talk about reality generating consequences.
She now has a giant purple bruise all over her chin, from her mouth downward. She looks something like a 3-year-old who has just slobbered over a giant purple lollypop.
Of course, I don't tell her that. "Why, no, Madison, it looks fine, you don't even notice unless you look up close."
Of course, when you DO look up close, you want to laugh.
As a result, we had some interesting anatomy explanations about capillaries and what might cause them to break, and what happens when the blood leaks out from them. (She found out, obviously.)
Talk about reality generating consequences.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
#@!#$!#% Taxes
Is anyone else having a harder time than usual getting together the information to do taxes?
I always hate accounting, but this year I hate it so much I haven't even gotten started pulling everything together. I sit down and just can't make myself do it. I'm envisioning all of the idiots who are going to be getting my money and doing with it what they please. The fury just overwhelms me.
I always hate accounting, but this year I hate it so much I haven't even gotten started pulling everything together. I sit down and just can't make myself do it. I'm envisioning all of the idiots who are going to be getting my money and doing with it what they please. The fury just overwhelms me.
Mr. iPhone again
Mr. or Ms. iPhone looked at my Frontier Team book web site again yesterday.
That was two accesses, three days apart.
I guess it means that someone is at least CONSIDERING representing me. Wonder if I'll find out who.
I'm not nervous, though. I'm still steadily sending out queries. They say it's just as hard to find a good agent as it is to find a publisher, and I believe it.
That was two accesses, three days apart.
I guess it means that someone is at least CONSIDERING representing me. Wonder if I'll find out who.
I'm not nervous, though. I'm still steadily sending out queries. They say it's just as hard to find a good agent as it is to find a publisher, and I believe it.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Ella is over her "scared" phase
It actually took over a year for Ella to outgrow her "scared" phase.
In January 2008, when she was 6, I took her to a new ballet class where she and the instructor immediately didn't click. She had to leave, she was sobbing.
I thought it was a very temporary case of nerves, but the next week, and the following week, she was really upset during the class and had to manage herself. I took her out permanently after the third week.
What followed was a semester in which she didn't want me to leave her anywhere, at any time, at any class alone, even karate, where she'd been going for over a year. This was very odd because Ella had always been far and away more secure and flexible than Madison in new situations.
Boy, was that one unexpectedly gradual decline in fear; it was only as of THIS January, a year later, that I no longer give thought to whether Ella is going to have a problem if I leave her at a class. I will admit that I cut out two classes for her in the fall semester because I a) didn't want the hassle of having to stay put in the lobby for an hour or an hour and a half and b) I wanted her to have only the classes she loved so that she would stop having the experiences of anxiety entirely.
I had had to decide between using it as a time to teach her to manage her anxiety, versus having her not have it at all, and I chose the latter.
It seems to have been the right choice. She's really secure and happy. I think I could leave her anywhere -- anywhere reasonable, of course -- without the anxiety.
This experience does show how one bad experience can really seize the mind of a child and cause dramatic changes.
In January 2008, when she was 6, I took her to a new ballet class where she and the instructor immediately didn't click. She had to leave, she was sobbing.
I thought it was a very temporary case of nerves, but the next week, and the following week, she was really upset during the class and had to manage herself. I took her out permanently after the third week.
What followed was a semester in which she didn't want me to leave her anywhere, at any time, at any class alone, even karate, where she'd been going for over a year. This was very odd because Ella had always been far and away more secure and flexible than Madison in new situations.
Boy, was that one unexpectedly gradual decline in fear; it was only as of THIS January, a year later, that I no longer give thought to whether Ella is going to have a problem if I leave her at a class. I will admit that I cut out two classes for her in the fall semester because I a) didn't want the hassle of having to stay put in the lobby for an hour or an hour and a half and b) I wanted her to have only the classes she loved so that she would stop having the experiences of anxiety entirely.
I had had to decide between using it as a time to teach her to manage her anxiety, versus having her not have it at all, and I chose the latter.
It seems to have been the right choice. She's really secure and happy. I think I could leave her anywhere -- anywhere reasonable, of course -- without the anxiety.
This experience does show how one bad experience can really seize the mind of a child and cause dramatic changes.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Madison can spell
Sometime in the last couple of months, Madison flipped from being someone who can't really spell to someone who can spell just fine.
I'm not sure how it happened. It's not as though she's somehow reading any better or more than she was a year ago; she's as equally obsessed with reading now as then. She's not reading that much more complicated things, not any higher level of nonfiction than a year ago, she reads about 1/4 nonfiction and 3/4 fiction.
It's not as though I have been pressing the spellng issue. We don't do it every day. She's been writing pretty steadily, although even a little less than she was in September.
I can't identify any single element in her education that changed, except possibly that recently I've been doing somewhat more writing on the Frontier Team Book 2 with her sitting next to me.
It really does feel as though she suddenly switched over to knowing how to spell things. She wrote an email note to our nature guide, Liz, on Wednesday. I check things before she sends them out--mostly at her request--and there wasn't a single misspelling or grammar problem.
So, I'm happy, but hmmmmm. It all kind of works in with those learning readiness points I've been noticing, that we have a slow-paced gradual rate of improvement and suddenly shoot up to a plateau. I think I notice these more now than when they were toddlers and preschoolers; then, the new learning rate was out of sight, and while I certainly noticed the milestones, they were closer together and I had already identified them as potential milestones. With Madison, I had resigned myself to gradual improvement in spelling, which has been happening for the past three years. And then, whammo, it takes me by surprise.
I'm not sure how it happened. It's not as though she's somehow reading any better or more than she was a year ago; she's as equally obsessed with reading now as then. She's not reading that much more complicated things, not any higher level of nonfiction than a year ago, she reads about 1/4 nonfiction and 3/4 fiction.
It's not as though I have been pressing the spellng issue. We don't do it every day. She's been writing pretty steadily, although even a little less than she was in September.
I can't identify any single element in her education that changed, except possibly that recently I've been doing somewhat more writing on the Frontier Team Book 2 with her sitting next to me.
It really does feel as though she suddenly switched over to knowing how to spell things. She wrote an email note to our nature guide, Liz, on Wednesday. I check things before she sends them out--mostly at her request--and there wasn't a single misspelling or grammar problem.
So, I'm happy, but hmmmmm. It all kind of works in with those learning readiness points I've been noticing, that we have a slow-paced gradual rate of improvement and suddenly shoot up to a plateau. I think I notice these more now than when they were toddlers and preschoolers; then, the new learning rate was out of sight, and while I certainly noticed the milestones, they were closer together and I had already identified them as potential milestones. With Madison, I had resigned myself to gradual improvement in spelling, which has been happening for the past three years. And then, whammo, it takes me by surprise.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Ella's flock of bats
Last night, we had Rochester bat expert Liz Thompson over to our house, along with 15 little Brownie Girl Scouts, for a hike to complete the Watching Wildlife badge. We love Liz, she had been at our favorite nature center until the place was deemed less than necessary by the administration. Anyway, a great hike was had by all, although we weren't searching for bats, of course, not at this time of the year.
Ella drew a bat on the computer for Liz this morning, and then she worked with me in Photo Impact to create this:
We love technology here at Mariposario.
Ella drew a bat on the computer for Liz this morning, and then she worked with me in Photo Impact to create this:
We love technology here at Mariposario.
School Specialty Publications sale
For fellow home schoolers:
School Specialty Publications is having a big sale on over 900 items. I went through and got some terrific deals.
And if you spend over $35 (which actually took some doing because a lot of things are going CHEAP), you can get free shipping if you use promotional code HPFS3078.
Here is a link to get to the sale items:
http://www.schoolspecialtypublishing.com/store/default.aspx?DepartmentId=49
School Specialty Publications is having a big sale on over 900 items. I went through and got some terrific deals.
And if you spend over $35 (which actually took some doing because a lot of things are going CHEAP), you can get free shipping if you use promotional code HPFS3078.
Here is a link to get to the sale items:
http://www.schoolspecialtypublishing.com/store/default.aspx?DepartmentId=49
I'll take my good news in tiny chunks
I've been sending out about a query per day to mostly agents and a few publishers. And, getting rejections at a slower clip.
I started an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of everything.
Interestingly, yesterday I noticed that of the rejections I've received, NO ONE had looked at The-Frontier-Team.com web site I'd set up to help sell the book. I send them the standard email query according to their specifications, with a link to my web site. Of the few prompt-ish (within 3 weeks) rejections I've received so far, no one had even bothered clicking through to the web site.
But this morning, someone on an iPhone somewhere in the U.S. looked at it at 6:16 in the morning.
I hope it wasn't one of YOU! :-)
I started an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of everything.
Interestingly, yesterday I noticed that of the rejections I've received, NO ONE had looked at The-Frontier-Team.com web site I'd set up to help sell the book. I send them the standard email query according to their specifications, with a link to my web site. Of the few prompt-ish (within 3 weeks) rejections I've received so far, no one had even bothered clicking through to the web site.
But this morning, someone on an iPhone somewhere in the U.S. looked at it at 6:16 in the morning.
I hope it wasn't one of YOU! :-)
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Swaying
In recent weeks, Madison has begun swaying. She shifts her weight back and forth from foot to foot when she should be just standing still, and sometimes even lifts each foot off the ground.
She looks like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. And it's driving me nuts. I see her doing it out of the corner of my eye, and it makes me feel just like those IMax movies do, the ones that are supposed to make you feel like you're flying or on a roller coaster. I literally start to get motion sick.
When Madison focuses on her body, she's fine. But when she's thinking about something else or talking or whatever, that's when it starts. I remind her to have a sense of her body, and it stops for a minute or two, then it starts up again. I sometimes take hold of her shoulders and bring the swaying to a halt, to make her notice how very much her body is moving when she doesn't notice. I have even been guilty of a "Madison, for pity's sake! You're making me dizzy!" at the third or fourth reminder.
It doesn't happen when she's sitting, only when she's standing. She explained it once as an urge to feel her legs (knees, I think) moving against each other.
I feel as though I have to nip this in the bud or it could become an ingrained habit. I just can't have her going through life moving like Rain Man. Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill here, but it's just driving me crazy. I hope it's a phase.
She looks like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. And it's driving me nuts. I see her doing it out of the corner of my eye, and it makes me feel just like those IMax movies do, the ones that are supposed to make you feel like you're flying or on a roller coaster. I literally start to get motion sick.
When Madison focuses on her body, she's fine. But when she's thinking about something else or talking or whatever, that's when it starts. I remind her to have a sense of her body, and it stops for a minute or two, then it starts up again. I sometimes take hold of her shoulders and bring the swaying to a halt, to make her notice how very much her body is moving when she doesn't notice. I have even been guilty of a "Madison, for pity's sake! You're making me dizzy!" at the third or fourth reminder.
It doesn't happen when she's sitting, only when she's standing. She explained it once as an urge to feel her legs (knees, I think) moving against each other.
I feel as though I have to nip this in the bud or it could become an ingrained habit. I just can't have her going through life moving like Rain Man. Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill here, but it's just driving me crazy. I hope it's a phase.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Under the most benevolent of pressure...
Bowing to convention (in the person of Donald Heath), I have joined Facebook.
Is this the right way for you all to find me?
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1201271669&ref=profile
Is this the right way for you all to find me?
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1201271669&ref=profile
Saturday, March 14, 2009
This is actually good news
The literary agent to whom I submitted a query about 3 weeks ago just rejected me.
This was really good news, because I had made a couple of mistakes in submitting:
1) I shouldn't have discounted the fact that this guy preferred funkier stuff than I write.
2) I shouldn't have given him exclusivity in reviewing it. That usually gets more and quicker attention from the agent when you submit your stuff. But you have to wait up until about 3 months without hearing from him before you can submit your stuff elsewhere, when you grant exclusivity.
3) I should have gathered my list of prospective agents ahead of time, to take the time to decide to whom it would have made sense to submit first. See, only a day or so after I submitted my query to this agent, I found another agent who would probably be a lot better.
Last week, at the 2 week point, I spoke with the author whom the agent loves, whose books he edited about 5 years ago. She said that not only does he prefer really funky, off-beat stuff, but that he is SLOW and could take up to the full 3 months to get back to me.
Yikes.
So, I resigned myself to submitting to publishers, rather than agents, for the next couple of months. But yesterday, I got an email from the first agent. He rejected me very kindly, saying that it wasn't anything he could see wrong with my book, just that he likes edgier material.
YAY! I'm free.
So today, I submitted to the agent I REALLY want to sell my books. Non-exclusively, of course...I've learned my lesson.
Fingers crossed. If she accepts me, it might mean that my Penn degree means something, for the first time in 18 years. (She went to Penn, too.)
And today, I spent a blissful 3 hours in the University of Rochester library, researching Washington Medals that were given to American Indians in 1789, 1792, and 1793, for the next book in the series. I even wrote a couple of scenes for this book, and planned even more. It was quiet. I need more quiet. (Not that I'm going to GET more quiet, but I need it.)
A good book day.
This was really good news, because I had made a couple of mistakes in submitting:
1) I shouldn't have discounted the fact that this guy preferred funkier stuff than I write.
2) I shouldn't have given him exclusivity in reviewing it. That usually gets more and quicker attention from the agent when you submit your stuff. But you have to wait up until about 3 months without hearing from him before you can submit your stuff elsewhere, when you grant exclusivity.
3) I should have gathered my list of prospective agents ahead of time, to take the time to decide to whom it would have made sense to submit first. See, only a day or so after I submitted my query to this agent, I found another agent who would probably be a lot better.
Last week, at the 2 week point, I spoke with the author whom the agent loves, whose books he edited about 5 years ago. She said that not only does he prefer really funky, off-beat stuff, but that he is SLOW and could take up to the full 3 months to get back to me.
Yikes.
So, I resigned myself to submitting to publishers, rather than agents, for the next couple of months. But yesterday, I got an email from the first agent. He rejected me very kindly, saying that it wasn't anything he could see wrong with my book, just that he likes edgier material.
YAY! I'm free.
So today, I submitted to the agent I REALLY want to sell my books. Non-exclusively, of course...I've learned my lesson.
Fingers crossed. If she accepts me, it might mean that my Penn degree means something, for the first time in 18 years. (She went to Penn, too.)
And today, I spent a blissful 3 hours in the University of Rochester library, researching Washington Medals that were given to American Indians in 1789, 1792, and 1793, for the next book in the series. I even wrote a couple of scenes for this book, and planned even more. It was quiet. I need more quiet. (Not that I'm going to GET more quiet, but I need it.)
A good book day.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Overheard this morning
David, to Ella: "Are you really this cute?"
Ella: "If I AM as cute as I am, how can I NOT be as cute as I am?"
I guess A is A.
Ella: "If I AM as cute as I am, how can I NOT be as cute as I am?"
I guess A is A.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Below-board capitalism alive and well in our neighborhood
We had a fierce windstorm yesterday here in Rochester that knocked down a big cherry tree near the sidewalk in our front yard. It also ripped out the phone lines.
I was just coming home with the kids around noon and found our block completely blocked off at the end. There were a bunch of fire engines. They were in front of MY house.
The cop wouldn't let me through. "But that's MY house!" I said, insistantly. I couldn't say it with too much tension in my voice because the kids were in the car with me. I had no idea what was going on.
"Sorry, lady, you'll have to go around the block."
So I did, but that end was blocked off, too. So I turned around, parked in front of my back-yard neighbor's house, and we all trooped through together.
"I heard a tremendous crack," said Lou as we walked. "It's across the street, I think."
But no, there it was, a large cherry tree laying diagonally across my front yard, from southwest to northeast. It WASN'T the magnolia tree next to the house, thank goodness. I love that magnolia, it's beautiful in the spring, and both the kids and I were grateful that it was unharmed, only a few small limbs down. The cherry tree didn't hit the house when it came down, because of the angle. AND, it was mostly ripped out, stump and all. So no need for any of that. If we had to lose a tree, it was the best way.
The best part, though, is that the fallen tree attracted attention, the right kind. The kind that represents the best part of America's get-up-and-hustle mentality. I had no fewer than four different groups of guys knock on the door yesterday and today to ask if I wanted to hire someone to chop it all up and haul it away.
Today, two groups came (coincidentally) together: One was a pair of guys named Jim (both of them) who had been by yesterday. At the same time, the ex-chief of the local fire department came by. HE said he'd be happy to cut it all apart on Saturday for NOTHING, if he could have the firewood. The Jims originally wanted $200 to cut and stack it (one of them does this one his own as a contractor). All together, we negotiated that the Jims would clear all of the twigs and brush today, lop off some of the smaller limbs and stack them for firewood for me, for $100. And then the fireman would come back on Saturday and chop up and take the rest with him.
Sold! ("Boy, you're getting a great deal," the fireman said to me in an aside. I agreed.)
The Jims got to work, after I had them sign a waiver stating that they wouldn't sue me if they got hurt. (Because, who knows.)
It was great. Here is a photo of them with my tree:
The undamaged magnolia is the one on the right side, still standing.
But it gets better yet. I only had $85 in cash on me. I told the Jims I'd have to go to a cash machine for the extra, unless they wanted me to raid the girls' piggy banks for nickels.
"No problem," said Main Jim, after a bit of consultation with Other Jim. "We'll do it for $85 if you give me the opportunity to quote you on getting off the dead limbs on the huge tree in the back."
Sold, again!
So, for $85, I got firewood for all of next year, I got to meet some nice Jims and a fireman, and the other guys who came by but didn't get the job. I found a cheap, spunky guy I like to fix the trees in the back yard soon. And, the Frontier Telephone guy ran a new wire for free to us today. All in all, the best kind of Natural Disaster to experience.
And those gentlemen, they had good, hard, firm handshakes when they left.
I felt so American.
I was just coming home with the kids around noon and found our block completely blocked off at the end. There were a bunch of fire engines. They were in front of MY house.
The cop wouldn't let me through. "But that's MY house!" I said, insistantly. I couldn't say it with too much tension in my voice because the kids were in the car with me. I had no idea what was going on.
"Sorry, lady, you'll have to go around the block."
So I did, but that end was blocked off, too. So I turned around, parked in front of my back-yard neighbor's house, and we all trooped through together.
"I heard a tremendous crack," said Lou as we walked. "It's across the street, I think."
But no, there it was, a large cherry tree laying diagonally across my front yard, from southwest to northeast. It WASN'T the magnolia tree next to the house, thank goodness. I love that magnolia, it's beautiful in the spring, and both the kids and I were grateful that it was unharmed, only a few small limbs down. The cherry tree didn't hit the house when it came down, because of the angle. AND, it was mostly ripped out, stump and all. So no need for any of that. If we had to lose a tree, it was the best way.
The best part, though, is that the fallen tree attracted attention, the right kind. The kind that represents the best part of America's get-up-and-hustle mentality. I had no fewer than four different groups of guys knock on the door yesterday and today to ask if I wanted to hire someone to chop it all up and haul it away.
Today, two groups came (coincidentally) together: One was a pair of guys named Jim (both of them) who had been by yesterday. At the same time, the ex-chief of the local fire department came by. HE said he'd be happy to cut it all apart on Saturday for NOTHING, if he could have the firewood. The Jims originally wanted $200 to cut and stack it (one of them does this one his own as a contractor). All together, we negotiated that the Jims would clear all of the twigs and brush today, lop off some of the smaller limbs and stack them for firewood for me, for $100. And then the fireman would come back on Saturday and chop up and take the rest with him.
Sold! ("Boy, you're getting a great deal," the fireman said to me in an aside. I agreed.)
The Jims got to work, after I had them sign a waiver stating that they wouldn't sue me if they got hurt. (Because, who knows.)
It was great. Here is a photo of them with my tree:
The undamaged magnolia is the one on the right side, still standing.
But it gets better yet. I only had $85 in cash on me. I told the Jims I'd have to go to a cash machine for the extra, unless they wanted me to raid the girls' piggy banks for nickels.
"No problem," said Main Jim, after a bit of consultation with Other Jim. "We'll do it for $85 if you give me the opportunity to quote you on getting off the dead limbs on the huge tree in the back."
Sold, again!
So, for $85, I got firewood for all of next year, I got to meet some nice Jims and a fireman, and the other guys who came by but didn't get the job. I found a cheap, spunky guy I like to fix the trees in the back yard soon. And, the Frontier Telephone guy ran a new wire for free to us today. All in all, the best kind of Natural Disaster to experience.
And those gentlemen, they had good, hard, firm handshakes when they left.
I felt so American.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Appreciation
Hand-in-hand with my observations about immersing oneself in what nurtures the soul, I'd like to address an important corollary: expressing appreciation.
I don't mean communicating my appreciation of the beautiful to my kids; that's important, of course, but I'm thinking about something else here:
I mean that one should, if possible, find the person who created the beauty in the first place, and thank him or her for doing so. It's not only justice; it also encourages that person to do more.
I have been thinking about this hard ever since I attended the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators conference in January. One thing that struck me is how incredibly appreciative of good feedback from readers were even the most famous of the authors speaking. They used them as examples in their talks of the real kind of payback an author receives. Royalties are fine, was the implication, but letters from readers are food for the soul.
So, this morning, I emailed the composer who wrote the piece that especially moved me at the concert last night. He is still living. His web site was the easiest thing in the world to find. He lives in California, but he must get up early, because only an hour or so after I sent him a note of appreciation for his artistry, I received this:
Authors, composers, educators, poets, thinkers, journalists, builders, scientists, entrepreneurs, performers, politicians who do the right thing in the face of opposition... who deserves your appreciation today?
I don't mean communicating my appreciation of the beautiful to my kids; that's important, of course, but I'm thinking about something else here:
I mean that one should, if possible, find the person who created the beauty in the first place, and thank him or her for doing so. It's not only justice; it also encourages that person to do more.
I have been thinking about this hard ever since I attended the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators conference in January. One thing that struck me is how incredibly appreciative of good feedback from readers were even the most famous of the authors speaking. They used them as examples in their talks of the real kind of payback an author receives. Royalties are fine, was the implication, but letters from readers are food for the soul.
So, this morning, I emailed the composer who wrote the piece that especially moved me at the concert last night. He is still living. His web site was the easiest thing in the world to find. He lives in California, but he must get up early, because only an hour or so after I sent him a note of appreciation for his artistry, I received this:
Many, many thanks to you for taking the time to express your feelings about Songs of The Slave. That is the kind of letter that brightens the day of every composer. Even when things are not going well, we can remember such a letter and realize that what we are doing does really touch the hearts of many people that we do not even know. That is the best reward of all!So my point for this post is that we should always try to think about the creator of what we appreciate, and see what we can do to express our appreciation. Especially in times like now, creators need encouragement, and what better encouragement is there than the appreciation for the good they have created? I'm reminded of a passage in Atlas Shrugged where Francisco is talking to Rearden about Rearden's creation, and who it is for:
"Did you want to see it used by men...who could never invent your Metal, but who would do their best, work as hard as you did, live by their own effort, and--riding on your rail--give a moment's silent thanks to the man who gave them more than they could give him?"All I'm adding here is that the thanks needn't be silent.
"Yes," said Rearden eagerly.
Authors, composers, educators, poets, thinkers, journalists, builders, scientists, entrepreneurs, performers, politicians who do the right thing in the face of opposition... who deserves your appreciation today?
Immersion
My friend Peter Saint-Andre has been writing of late about the need to immerse ourselves in that which is most beautiful in order to have a happy life despite what sometimes seems to be crumbling around us. Remembering this has been comforting. It seems to me that it is my job as a parent both to do this for my kids and to teach them to do this for themselves.
Last night, Madison's Bach Children's Chorus concert was with, as it mostly is, adult choruses and an orchestra; this time, it was the Rochester Oratorio Society hosting the BCC and also the Morgan State University Chorus from Baltimore. The concert's title was "Partners in Freedom: Lincoln & Douglass," and (even to Lincoln- and Douglass-lovers like David and me) it didn't disappoint. The combined choruses did a piece called “Sacred Ground,” which was the Gettysburg Address set to music by David Diamond, some spirituals, and a Mendelssohn piece called Laudate Pueri Dominum. Then, the two adult choirs did a version of Ave Maria I’d never heard and Kirke Mechem’s “Songs of the Slave” from his John Brown’s Opera.
Immersing myself in the music didn't exactly make me forget what is going on in the world, but it did allow the appreciation of The Best Within Us to take the active place in my consciousness. We need more of this. We need more of this in DEFIANCE of other things crumbling.
I hope Madison and Ella look back on their childhood as a time when their parents surrounded them with The Best that is within human beings, and showed them how to do this on their own. There are times and places for kids gradually to start grappling with ugliness, but it's not now. There is no need, yet. The girls will learn about how to deal with ugliness and strife later; now is the time for them to conquer the minor (or major, depending on how you look at it) challenges of learning how to learn, and how to navigate in what is still mostly a beneficent universe. To the extent that they can learn to surround themselves with what is beautiful, they will be able to find those fulfilling pockets of beauty, and create more of them, even if the world is not an ideal place later on.
Last night, Madison's Bach Children's Chorus concert was with, as it mostly is, adult choruses and an orchestra; this time, it was the Rochester Oratorio Society hosting the BCC and also the Morgan State University Chorus from Baltimore. The concert's title was "Partners in Freedom: Lincoln & Douglass," and (even to Lincoln- and Douglass-lovers like David and me) it didn't disappoint. The combined choruses did a piece called “Sacred Ground,” which was the Gettysburg Address set to music by David Diamond, some spirituals, and a Mendelssohn piece called Laudate Pueri Dominum. Then, the two adult choirs did a version of Ave Maria I’d never heard and Kirke Mechem’s “Songs of the Slave” from his John Brown’s Opera.
Immersing myself in the music didn't exactly make me forget what is going on in the world, but it did allow the appreciation of The Best Within Us to take the active place in my consciousness. We need more of this. We need more of this in DEFIANCE of other things crumbling.
I hope Madison and Ella look back on their childhood as a time when their parents surrounded them with The Best that is within human beings, and showed them how to do this on their own. There are times and places for kids gradually to start grappling with ugliness, but it's not now. There is no need, yet. The girls will learn about how to deal with ugliness and strife later; now is the time for them to conquer the minor (or major, depending on how you look at it) challenges of learning how to learn, and how to navigate in what is still mostly a beneficent universe. To the extent that they can learn to surround themselves with what is beautiful, they will be able to find those fulfilling pockets of beauty, and create more of them, even if the world is not an ideal place later on.
Friday, March 06, 2009
How quick they learn when the time is right
I realized this week that I hadn't reviewed division of fractions with Madison in a long time, and that I'd never taught her how to compute averages. We have been working our way through a sixth-grade assessment test that I gave her in January, working on the bits of math that she didn't remember or had never learned how to do.
Earlier this week, in 10 minutes, we did division of fractions.
Then, yesterday, in 10 minutes, we did averages.
The same thing happened this morning with Ella. She knows the multiplication tables, so today was the day to move on to multiple-digit multiplication (2 by 1). First I did some where there is no carrying (e.g., 22 x 3), then some where the tens answer has more than one digit (73 x 2) and then finally moved on to the need to carry the tens place (63 x 4).
She needed to be shown it once, and then did a dozen problems on her own, all of which she got exactly right.
I remember spending weeks in elementary school on things like these.
Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to spend the months it took Ella to learn the multiplication tables. But it's amazing how quickly they learn something new when they are rock-solid on what they need to know in order to learn it, and there is only one more little concept or strategy to employ to get the new skill. A lot of learning isn't like that; you have to learn two or three or even more concepts all at once in order to learn the new idea. We still do that kind of learning, with a lot being thrown at you all at once. But it's worthwhile remembering how pleasurable it is to do exactly-the-next-step learning. I'll try to do more of that with the girls.
Earlier this week, in 10 minutes, we did division of fractions.
Then, yesterday, in 10 minutes, we did averages.
The same thing happened this morning with Ella. She knows the multiplication tables, so today was the day to move on to multiple-digit multiplication (2 by 1). First I did some where there is no carrying (e.g., 22 x 3), then some where the tens answer has more than one digit (73 x 2) and then finally moved on to the need to carry the tens place (63 x 4).
She needed to be shown it once, and then did a dozen problems on her own, all of which she got exactly right.
I remember spending weeks in elementary school on things like these.
Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to spend the months it took Ella to learn the multiplication tables. But it's amazing how quickly they learn something new when they are rock-solid on what they need to know in order to learn it, and there is only one more little concept or strategy to employ to get the new skill. A lot of learning isn't like that; you have to learn two or three or even more concepts all at once in order to learn the new idea. We still do that kind of learning, with a lot being thrown at you all at once. But it's worthwhile remembering how pleasurable it is to do exactly-the-next-step learning. I'll try to do more of that with the girls.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Rand books for charity!
Hi, folks. I wanted to let all the Ayn Rand fans out there know that you can bid for FIVE Rand brand-spanking new books on MissionFish, which the Bach Children's Chorus is using for fund raising.
These five books, plus The Literary Art of Ayn Rand, retail for $132 and were donated by The Objectivist Store. I just put them up on the web, and am hoping that the BCC can get at least $65 for them. What a bargain! You KNOW you need some extra (and beautiful, and cheap) Rand books lying around in case someone you love needs a gift, right?
In hardcover, we have:
Atlas Shrugged
The Fountainhead
and
We the Living
In softcover, we have:
Capitalism, the Unknown Ideal
Philosophy, Who Needs It?
and
The Literary Art of Ayn Rand
Here is the link to see how much is being bid currently for these books. Right now, the starting bid is only $25.
I'm advertising them on KidsOutAndAbout.com, as I am with all of the other auctions, partly as my little personal means of raising visibility among thousands of readers. It will be interesting to see whether people go for them. But I'm kind of hoping that they will go to someone for whom it actually means something.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Ella finished her multiplication tables!
Imagine waking peacefully in the morning, and opening your eyes lazily.
"Test me, Mom," Ella insisted early this morning. So I gave her the test, and she got every thing right. Still made some backwards 3's and 5's, but who cares.
We're off to Toys-Backwards-R-Us a little later today, a family tradition. When the child finishes the multiplication tables, she gets to pick (pretty much) anything she wants as a prize. I hope it isn't some plastic crap. Madison chose a lovely big stuffed horse when she finished her multiplication tables in December 06.
There is a cute little girl not six inches away from your face, who has clearly been waiting.
"I finished the multiplication table this morning, Daddy," she said.
That was the first several seconds of David's morning.
"Test me, Mom," Ella insisted early this morning. So I gave her the test, and she got every thing right. Still made some backwards 3's and 5's, but who cares.
We're off to Toys-Backwards-R-Us a little later today, a family tradition. When the child finishes the multiplication tables, she gets to pick (pretty much) anything she wants as a prize. I hope it isn't some plastic crap. Madison chose a lovely big stuffed horse when she finished her multiplication tables in December 06.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Kitty in a Package
One of my girls' favorite bedtime games for the last 4-5 years has been "Kitty in a Package." I don't remember who invented it, probably Madison.
"I'm going to be a kitty in a package!" one of them will call down the stairs as they're running up to brush their teeth and put on their pajamas. "We'll tell you when we're ready."
Mostly, these days, it's Ella who is the kitty in the package. (Or the bunny. Or the puppy. But mostly the kitty.) Madison wraps her up snugly in blankets, head and all, in a big lump on my bed, and turns out the lights. I walk in, and turn on the lights. What follows afterward is always exactly the same:
I'm really going to miss Kitty in a Package when they get older. No sign of them wanting to quit it, thank goodness, even though Madison is 9 1/2. I'm enjoying it while I can.
"I'm going to be a kitty in a package!" one of them will call down the stairs as they're running up to brush their teeth and put on their pajamas. "We'll tell you when we're ready."
Mostly, these days, it's Ella who is the kitty in the package. (Or the bunny. Or the puppy. But mostly the kitty.) Madison wraps her up snugly in blankets, head and all, in a big lump on my bed, and turns out the lights. I walk in, and turn on the lights. What follows afterward is always exactly the same:
"Oh! Wow! Do you see that on my bed? What do you suppose it is? Why...it's a package! An awfully lumpy package, here. Hmmmm...(poke poke) what could it be? Oh, gee, look, here's a label! Oh, it's for ME! What do you think it is? Who could have sent it? I guess there's nothing to do but open it... Oh, my goodness, look! It's a beautiful little kitty! Oh, don't be scared, little kitty! I'm your new owner! Come here, right into my arms...Oh, look, she likes me! She's purring! She's nuzzling me! Do you want something, kitty? Would you like...would you like some milk? I just happen to have a mug here...you would? She likes it! "
I'm going to keep you and take care of you forever and ever. I'm such a lucky owner."
I'm really going to miss Kitty in a Package when they get older. No sign of them wanting to quit it, thank goodness, even though Madison is 9 1/2. I'm enjoying it while I can.
"Crazy Eights" karate multiplication
Ella is ALMOST done with the multiplication tables. She's still missing 6 x 4, 4 x 8, 9 x 4, 9 x 5, 9 x 6, 9 x 7, and 9 x 9. Yay! Almost there. We haven't really focused on the 9's yet, although she knows several tricks to derive the 9's on the fly, so she figures out the 9's when she needs to, but doesn't have them memorized yet.
For some reason, the eight times tables were particularly hard for her. She is a very touchy-feely learner, and so I suggested that she find a way to use karate to learn it.
Last week, she devised a kata that takes her through each element of the eight times tables. Wow, did that work! She learned the whole group in about 20 minutes and will never forget them again. She says the answer as she's doing each move.
8 x 1 : Figure eight (with imaginary nunchucks)
8 x 2: crescent kick
8 x 3: jump kick
8 x 4: back
8 x 5: uppercut
8 x 6: scoop block
8 x 7: reverse punch
8 x 8: front kick and spearhand
8 x 9: four kicks: front, back, side, side
8 x 10: bow
Isn't that fun?
For some reason, the eight times tables were particularly hard for her. She is a very touchy-feely learner, and so I suggested that she find a way to use karate to learn it.
Last week, she devised a kata that takes her through each element of the eight times tables. Wow, did that work! She learned the whole group in about 20 minutes and will never forget them again. She says the answer as she's doing each move.
8 x 1 : Figure eight (with imaginary nunchucks)
8 x 2: crescent kick
8 x 3: jump kick
8 x 4: back
8 x 5: uppercut
8 x 6: scoop block
8 x 7: reverse punch
8 x 8: front kick and spearhand
8 x 9: four kicks: front, back, side, side
8 x 10: bow
Isn't that fun?
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Why would I blog about cookies?
I know, it seems a little unusual, to be blogging about cookies. But, frankly, I've been getting anxious and depressed about the state of the economy. I can't believe that my worries over the economy have now trumped my worries over defense, but there it is. I now realize it may have been a poor decision for my psychological health to start home delivery of the Wall Street Journal back up again last week. Can it really be true that we've got to parry Keynesian arguments again, for goodness' sake? And socialized freakin' medicine? And when it all starts really to collapse, they're really going to do it, aren't they, they're really going to print paper money. It makes me want to spend NOW on home improvements at a time when my dollar is still worth something. It makes me want to plow under my yard and make it a garden. And buy a wood-burning stove. And store drinkable water.
Anyway, working on something concrete -- like creative and delicious ways to raise funds for the girls' chorus in a way that everyone wins -- helps take my mind off it all. I also scrubbed the bathroom and reorganized the schoolroom this weekend, because although I couldn't manage brainy stuff what with how I've been feeling, I had to get *something* accomplished.
Back to more fun stuff tomorrow, I promise.
Anyway, working on something concrete -- like creative and delicious ways to raise funds for the girls' chorus in a way that everyone wins -- helps take my mind off it all. I also scrubbed the bathroom and reorganized the schoolroom this weekend, because although I couldn't manage brainy stuff what with how I've been feeling, I had to get *something* accomplished.
Back to more fun stuff tomorrow, I promise.
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