Sibling Assignment #21: Our Love for Reading and Writing

My brother’s friend has read all three of our blogs. Last week she asked him a question.
“ What (or who) instilled in the three of you the love for reading and writing?” That became our sibling assignment for the week. You will find Silver Valley Girl's here. Raymond Pert's is here.Mom was here visiting earlier in the week so I posed the question to her. She thought for awhile then listed many examples of how reading and writing were brought into my life from a very early age.

Grandma Woolum was very instrumental in laying the foundation for our love for the written word. She had gone to school to become a teacher and taught a year in Kentucky before heading out west. It was her strong belief that all children should read and be read to. I still have books she gave us as gifts on birthdays and Christmas. She also brought books home to us after going on trips. When our family was still living up on E. Portland I have strong memories of reading The Cat in The Hat, One Fish Two Fish, and Green Eggs and Ham. Grandma got us the subscription to the “I Can Read It All by Myself Beginner Book” series. I know we would get excited when a box with new books would come in the mail.

My dad was relieved because he wouldn’t have to read The Fly Went By another 10 times to me. (That was the first book I learned to read.) Ninety-sixty-two was a banner year for books from Grandma. I have The Hole Book by Peter Newell that she gave to my brother and I. It is a story of a shot that goes all the way through the book with a hole in the middle of each page. At Christmas she gave me The Littlest Angel by Charles Tazewell. It has always been a holiday favorite. At this early age my writing consisted mostly of letters and notes. I saw lots of writing modeled for me, especially when I went to school with Mom and spent time in her classroom. Reading and writing were activities I looked forward to doing.

Good reading models were also important. I had exceptional teachers in elementary school that shared a love for reading and writing. I can still remember books that were read aloud to me after lunch each day. In kindergarten Mrs. P. introduced us to Mother Goose and nursery rhymes, and traditional children’s songs. Mrs. D. read The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. She also introduced us to Mrs. Piggle Wiggle. Mrs. T. started my love for poetry by having us memorize a poem a month. I can still remember the words to “When the Frost is on the Punkin”, “Oh Captain, My Captain”, and “Barefoot Boy”. That year we also wrote poems for Halloween and stories about a Trip Down the Amazon. These models continued to build my love for reading and writing.

The other strong reading model was my dad. He loved to read. When he arrived home after work he read the newspaper page by page. He pored over the sport page and also read magazines and books about different sports. He was thirsty for knowledge and guided us to the encyclopedias and the dictionary to learn facts when we had a question.

Having access to books made a huge difference. We got library cards when we were old enough to sign our names to the cards. At school I loved to order from Lucky and then Arrow Book Club. I couldn’t wait until the new flier came out and I could scan the pages of new books. We also had shelves of books at home. I still love to curl up with a good book and share book titles with other avid readers. My students keep me up on new young adult books.

When it came to writing I wrote letters, reports, some poetry, and a column in the high school newspaper. That is when my creative side emerged. Mom then let me write some of the family Christmas letters. Later I wrote articles for the local paper. As I moved through college and began teaching I began to love writing, but I never made time for it.

Now I make time for reading and writing. After studying literacy education for my Master’s degree I saw the value in the written word. It comes as no surprise that you become better at reading and writing by doing it. I began to really do it! I continued to help my students by being a model just like my family members and teachers had done with me. In recent years I have had the privilege of participating in workshops with published writers. Through these I have learned more about the craft of writing and have passed that learning on to other writers and teachers in workshops I have done.

Through this whole process I realized I had stories I wanted to tell. At first the stories were for me privately. Then they became humorous Christmas letters that relayed the past years’ activities. As I have matured in my writing life, I am now willing to share the stories that have shaped my life. In writing memoir I now see past events through new eyes. It also helps me connect those past events with my life today and make some sense of it all.

Sunday Scribblings: The Teacher Mask

The topic for Sunday Scribblings this week is Masks. You can find the site here.

Each day of teaching is truly an adventure. I think that is why I enjoy it each and every day. I can spend hours preparing lessons, organizing the day, and thinking all will go well, but somehow things don’t always go as planned.

That is why I wear my Teacher Mask.

Scene #1: The students enter the classroom at the beginning of the day. I am ready to enrich their minds with new knowledge. We are disrupted by a puppy that somehow got into the building and took up residence in our classroom. Of course, the puppy hadn’t gone to the bathroom outside either!
Put on Teacher Mask. “Yes, this soon will pass. They will get back on task soon.”

Scent #2: All the handouts for the day are next to the overhead. This teacher is ready to introduce a new form of poetry. A student takes her chair off the table and hits the coffee mug. All the papers, overheads, and handouts are soaked with a nice new blend of coffee.
Put on Teacher Mask. “We can move to plan B… but what is plan B?”

Scene #3: The day begins with students filing in quietly getting ready for the day. All of a sudden it happens. It begins with loud crying in the room, the sound of footsteps in the hall, and girls rushing to the rescue. Yes, once again C and W had a disagreement. C began crying and rushed down the hall. Friends moved in to comfort her. W came back to my class and covered head with hood. Ah, young love.
Put on Teacher Mask. “Do I introduce new parts of speech today or begin a support group?”

Scene #4: One night this teachers' dogs had a run-in with a skunk. In the middle of the night we were looking for tomato juice, googling skunk smell removal recipes online, and melting down. The smell was horrible. Unfortunately, after the skunk odor is around you get used to it. Did I notice my clothes and school bag had been touched by my dogs? Should I have known that the smell would permeate everything I owned? I forgot. When I entered the school people let me know immediately that I reeked of skunk. The students’ eyes were watering, some had headaches, and one sweet girl actually begged me to stay in one corner of the room. Febreeze just didn’t work.
Put on Teacher Mask. Run to phone and call JEJ and beg him to bring any clothes that don’t smell of skunk. Now… what was the lesson today?

Yes, my Teacher Mask always looks the same. I work hard at trying to be level headed each day with the highs and lows of middle school teaching. I had a student tell me recently that he could see through my mask. “ I can tell that smile is really saying ‘I am really upset, but just trying to smile.’” How perceptive that student was. I guess sometimes my Teacher Mask gets a few cracks in it.

Lessons Learned in Gardening: Color, Rhythm, and Letting Go

The snowball bush is for you Raymond Pert ... a childhood memory from Grandma's house.

When I started flower gardening I didn't have much of a plan for color schemes. At first I was just blessed if things came back the next year. All of a sudden a few years down the gardening road I observed what looked like an English cottage garden around my place with mostly pastel colors. It looked pretty, but needed some pizazz. Next I moved to a "hot color" phase. I planted lots of red, orange, hot pink and purple.

Now that the parennials are more etablished they guide the color throughout the gardening year. I also have containers that are filled with plants and put around for ongoing summer color. I also like to stick in annual flowers in beds or let some reseed so after early perennials are done blooming there is something colorful.

This year I wanted a calm, relaxed look. There are still other color combinations in the garden beds, but I knew I wanted a green, pale yellow, white combination to stand out. Green and white hostas were already established. Now we can enjoy the creamy blooms of the snowball bush and white irises. The snow in summer just began blooming and I added some white alyssum for fragrance. The bridal wreath spirea is in full bloom showing that fresh white and green combination. Even white pansies have been added to the mix.

Gardening is not a perfect science. When I first began this passion I wanted to have more control over what happened. Meltdowns would happen when a geranium labeled salmon was blooming pink later in the summer. Through gardening I have learned to let go. I have also let myself flow more with the rhythm of the plant cycles. If a dinner gathering is planned in early June I can't make the roses bloom then. I can't predict temperature, rainfall, or frost. I don't know when the dogs might dig up my favorite lily. Alas, the gardening life in the country!

Today I am suffering from a terrible cough and ache all over. I managed to take a walk this evening and felt that calm, relaxing rhythm as I moved through the gardens. I think the color scheme I was trying to achieve may be working.

During a low time in my life I had a wise person advise me to get my hands in the dirt. He suggested I needed to connect with the gardening women in my family that influenced me, work the soil , appreciate the beauty of gardening, and be still.

That was about fourteen years ago. I think he would say I am getting there.

Spring Bouquet #7: Shades of Purple With Iris and Columbine

"Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his

own nature into his pictures."

Henry Ward Beecher

Greek Watermelon Salad: From the Recipe Box

Here is the recipe for salad I made here for the Mother's Day Eve dinner.

Greek Watermelon Salad
“so different and so good” from Yoke’s ad in Spokesman-Review

¾ cup thinly sliced red onion, halved

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
6 cups cubed seedless watermelon
¾ cup crumbled or cubed feta cheese
½ cup black olives, pitted and halved
1 cup chopped fresh mint
2 tablespoons olive oil

In a small bowl, cover the onion slices with the lime juice. The acid in the lime juice will help to mellow the strong, pungent ‘bite’ of the onion.
In a large salad bowl, combine the watermelon cubes, feta, olives and onions ( from the lime juice- reserve lime juice for dressing).
Add the olive oil to the small bowl of lime juice and stir until combined. Drizzle dressing over the salad, add the chopped mint and toss to coat. Let salad stand for a few minutes to allow the flavors to blend together… fresh, sweet, and salty flavor at the same time! Serves 6.

Not So Perfect Pesto Made Perfect: From the Recipe Box

The spring after JEJ and I had met I was thrilled to check out the herbs that were coming up. I had only lived at my place for a year and was still working on identifying shrubs, trees, and flowers the former owners had planted. I don’t even know where the idea for making pesto had come from since I had only had it in a restaurant. Knowing me I probably saw the recipe in a magazine and thought it would be fun to try. I gathered up the basil, followed the recipe, and served up a new, fresh dish that I was sure would be a hit. Somewhere between the chopping of the basil and the adding of the olive oil something didn’t seem right. The smell of the basil wasn’t what I had remembered. “Oh, well,” I thought to myself,” It just must be because the basil is older.”
(Now for all of you seasoned gardeners… I am sure you have figured that something is wrong. Basil is not a perennial herb. Why would it be there from the year before?)

I finished preparing the pesto, cooked the pasta, heated up bread, and tossed a salad. I took my first bite and thought the pesto had an odd taste, but didn’t say anything. After JEJ took a few bites he glanced over by the sink and inquired,” Why do you have catnip in here? I didn’t think you even had cats.”

The rest is a blur. I don’t know if a spit out my pesto first or grabbed my future husband and had him do a little herb identification by the back step. Fortunately JEJ has a good sense of humor. Even today when we tell this story he always ends it with, “The only problem I had was figuring out what to do next. I felt like jumping in her lap and purring or scratching on a tree.”

Here is a great recipe for pesto. Please make sure to use basil!
This uncooked seasoning can be made in advance. Use on pasta or mix equal portions with butter for baked potatoes.
In a food processor bowl place:
1 ½ cups fresh basil leaves
2 cloves garlic
¼ cup pine nuts
¾ cup grated Parmesan cheese
Pulse until the basil is chopped.
With the machine running , add ¾ cup olive oil.
Process until it is the consistency of creamed butter. Cover and refrigerate or freeze. Gardening tip: Basil is an annual herb with round, glossy leaves. Catnip has a narrower leaf, it comes up all over every year, the leaves have a faded green color and it smells like one of those catnip toys you buy for your feline friends. Lily and Sweet William are waiting to know for sure which is really the catnip.