tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45997258137214446522024-02-21T09:45:59.219-08:00fureveryoungtalesLibrary lady leaves no page unturned, scouring children's book shelves for exceptional animal stories to charm, delight, and enlighten readers of every age.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-19100697592498849172014-12-17T20:16:00.001-08:002015-02-20T13:36:40.612-08:00A Polar Bear in a Hannukah Tale? It's A Miracle!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Simon and the Bear</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">by Eric Kimmel (illustrated by Matthew Trueman)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Most children's Hanukkah stories have: latkes, menorahs, maccabees, and dreidels!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Author Eric Kimmel's Hanukkah stories have all these and then some: goblins, magic, miracles, and bears.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kimmel's first book. </span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins, </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">appeared 25 years ago (republished this year to mark the occasion) to critical acclaim and a cult following cutting across cultural audiences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The quirky tale was initially rejected but won the Caldecott Honor in 1989.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kimmel's current Hanukkah story, </span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Simon and the Bear</b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">,</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> also offers a fresh take on the conventional telling, piquing popular and critical interest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When we meet him, Simon is setting off from his Russian village, or shtetl, and heading to America, where he hopes to find work so he can eventually bring his family to this promised land to live a better life.</span></div>
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I and the Village</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For the journey, his mother packs salt herring, brown bread, hard boiled eggs, plus special supplies for the upcoming festival of lights-- a menorah, matches, candles, and a dreidel. Close to tears as they part, she also parcels out advice: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "Wherever you are, Simon, don't forget to celebrate Hanukkah and its miracles. Who knows? You may need a miracle on your long journey."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Somehow, mothers just know, for this indeed was the case. Though Simon lucked out and got the very last boat ticket, tragedy soon struck; the boat hit an iceberg and sank. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Simon did a great mitzvah (good deed) and gave up the last lifeboat seat to a man who had a little boy waiting for him in New York. Just in time he jumped and landed on an the iceberg. Heeding his mother's sage advice, Simon took out his tiny menorah. No sooner had he lit the first Hanukkah candle, than he found himself face to face with a huge hungry polar bear. Talk about needing a miracle! Fortunately, this bear liked latkes, herring and brown bread. She may have been a mama bear, as she instinctively wrapped her furry paws around Simon as though he were a cub, keeping him warm that night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next day, and each day after, the bear swam off and returned with a fish, which she shared with Simon. With their bellies full, Simon would light the menorah then regale the bear with Hanukkah stories and songs. On the seventh night of Hanukkah, Simon realized that he'd been blessed with seven miracles:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"This is truly a miracle. And not the only one," Simon said to himself. He counted the miracles on his fingers. He'd gotten the last ticket. He'd found a place in the lifeboat. He'd saved a man's life. He'd jumped on the iceberg, not in the ocean. The bear didn't eat him. She brought him food. She kept him warm.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Seven miracles! Simon looked out across the sea. "It will take another miracle for me to be rescued. Is one more too much to ask for?"</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the eighth night of Hanukkah, as Simon prepared to light the menorah for the final time, he realized that he would soon be in the dark, literally--after tonight he'd be out of candles, matches, and latkes. The bear could very well swim off and leave him alone and cold and hungry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As if reading his thoughts, the polar bear suddenly sniffed the air, then jumped into the water. Though Simon feared the worst, she wasn't deserting, she was investigating an approaching vessel. The Hanukkah candles, it turned out, had helped the crew spot Simon, and bring him an eighth miracle. He was rescued!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In New York, Simon made the front pages and met the Mayor, who was, it turned out, the man he'd given a seat to on the life boat. Asked what he would like as a reward for his selfless deed, Simon replied that his wish was for a job so he could send for his family to join him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Mayor purchased first class tickets for Simon's family and found him the perfect job, Polar Bear Keeper at the Central Park Zoo!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "Which goes to show that miracles aren't just for the Maccabees," Simon told his friends and family every year at Hanukkah time. "They can happen to anyone, anywhere, even in the darkest times. You just have to believe."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Simon and the Bear</b>, like <b>Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins</b>, seems to have carved out a distinctive niche in the Hanukkah story genre, one which expands upon, enriches, and broadens the main holiday themes. Kimmel beautifully weaves other elements of Jewish history and culture into the story. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The elements of iceberg and lifeboats may render the tale too intense for younger children, yet this story line will definitely appeal to many older youngsters, who frequently seek out books about the Titanic disaster, and may introduce a whole new group of readers to the Hanukkah story.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Brooklyn-born Kimmel has written over 50 children's books which draw on Jewish as well as African and other cultural folk tales for inspiration.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://ericakimmel.com<br />
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2602.Eric_A_Kimmel</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Illustrator Matthew Trueman is a commercial artist born north of Venice, Italy who has contributed to a number of children's stories, including Erica Silverman's retelling of a Sholom Aleichem story, <b>The Day the Chickens Went On Strike: A Rosh HaShanah Tale. </b>His distinctive style has been said to evoke artist Marc Chagall, whose early 20th century paintings depicted the tapestry of Eastern European Jewish village life as Aleichem's stories did. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://www.new-work.com/mtthumb.htm<br />
http://www.kidsreads.com/authors/matthew-trueman</td></tr>
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Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-91622177728122776272013-07-28T09:50:00.000-07:002013-07-28T09:50:01.806-07:00A Friendship Great & Deer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the true story of a sweet little fawn lost then found, nuzzled, and nurtured by Kate, a canine whose big heart matches her Great Dane dimensions. The tale is lovingly documented by talented photographer Isobel Springett, who provided sustenance, shelter, and the name "Pippin." Fortunately for readers who adore warm and fuzzy sagas, Isobel's brother Martin happens to be an award winning author and composer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This Canadian sister/brother duo, (she in Vancouver Island, he in Toronto) provide lush, lovely photographs and simple, straightforward prose enjoined to foster a charming parable about the ways wild and tame intertwine, and relationships transcending species blossom and endure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The fawn lay still and quiet. She was alone and afraid as she waited for her mother to come back. Every little deer needs its mother to protect it from the many dangers of the forest. But her mother did not return, and three long days passed.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Isobel, hearing the plaintiff cry, found the fawn, brought her into her farmhouse, and instinctively laid her beside Kate, her black Great Dane, whose\maternal experience was nil, but whose instincts turned out to be spot on, nuzzling and licking the soft little treasure, who responded in kind. As Pippin grows and thrives, the bond between dog and deer actually deepens, surviving Pippin's eventual return her habitat, where she passes each night, but returns to spend the waking hours with her adoptive moms, Kate and Isobel. (She's also a sort of second cousin to Henry, the resident black cat, who deigns to endure Pip's tongue bath greeting.)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Great mama Kate keeps her eye on Pip</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pippin grows into a playtime companion for Kate<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixA1L52F91qpdrqvaxL9e3F2MQj63uq36X4F-LLCbzlK0edMoaRrA66wfnT-f5CjQTVx8Ok5yLROqkdPelS1ZLJ1l176FplE9-dJb0OND_RN_Igh_RUo8Uhv_Ad5LVP688sCvqTl0WqByB/s1600/kate+and+Pippin+w+Henry.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixA1L52F91qpdrqvaxL9e3F2MQj63uq36X4F-LLCbzlK0edMoaRrA66wfnT-f5CjQTVx8Ok5yLROqkdPelS1ZLJ1l176FplE9-dJb0OND_RN_Igh_RUo8Uhv_Ad5LVP688sCvqTl0WqByB/s320/kate+and+Pippin+w+Henry.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pippin, Henry, & Kate</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pippin nuzzles Kate </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although the children's story is a relatively slim volume, the Springetts created a website, a Youtube channel, and music to accompany the videos composed by Martin, available for iTunes download.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With all the hoopla, have Kate & Pippin become household names? Well, maybe not as much as this universally recognized duo bearing strikingly similar names:<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqBpd-AANaevIYO2Un8hySnObUGEBJZj3_6_JD0ntdpyEk_eIcoUoLT2zQEJZ6-U6pP6RJvxGPwNbQjBXCx-PPpifHs_UDT5LguSHRX3WcDMgBZuiXX75kAekZ_jkHkonahhV5VpFdvVE/s1600/kate+&+pippa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPqBpd-AANaevIYO2Un8hySnObUGEBJZj3_6_JD0ntdpyEk_eIcoUoLT2zQEJZ6-U6pP6RJvxGPwNbQjBXCx-PPpifHs_UDT5LguSHRX3WcDMgBZuiXX75kAekZ_jkHkonahhV5VpFdvVE/s1600/kate+&+pippa.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Kate, Duchess of Cambridge and sister "Pippa" (Philippa) Middleton</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But for those who enjoy the enchantment of happily ever after, fairy tale endings, it's sure to celebrated in heartwarming fashion for a long, long time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some additional interesting links: </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/meganm15/audrey-hepburn-had-a-pet-deer-named-pippin">http://www.buzzfeed.com/meganm15/audrey-hepburn-had-a-pet-deer-named-pippin</a></div>
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/<a href="http://www.klru.org/episode/nature/animal-odd-couples/">http://www.klru.org/episode/nature/animal-odd-couples/</a></div>
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<a href="http://kateandpippin.com/">http://kateandpippin.com/</a></div>
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Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-52619307103047871872013-07-23T08:15:00.000-07:002013-07-23T08:15:41.090-07:00Pursuing the Panda: A Remarkable Woman Explorer's Expedition of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2zSMKf-LyF5BmodEyFObRlxB8dGrsofhPgSFlwKqEKFFWKfCE7HBL-wxuxfL_1i_xy-XpOwjNEt3t1mB9yJ7Ny6NXMqGpMAhyphenhyphenkTTQx99kpu7LOGKL-vek96YqNdn2KdJe7IRMj9lH5i9/s1600/Fleming-Kids-popup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2zSMKf-LyF5BmodEyFObRlxB8dGrsofhPgSFlwKqEKFFWKfCE7HBL-wxuxfL_1i_xy-XpOwjNEt3t1mB9yJ7Ny6NXMqGpMAhyphenhyphenkTTQx99kpu7LOGKL-vek96YqNdn2KdJe7IRMj9lH5i9/s320/Fleming-Kids-popup.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the book Mrs. Harkness and the Panda, Alicia Potter author, Melinda Sweet, illustrator<br />Alfred A. Knopf (Random House Children's Books imprint), 2012</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pandas, those adorable emblematic emissaries of China, are revered the world over by young and old alike. Once upon a time, not very long ago, pandas, like many other wild creatures, were prized mainly for their trophy pelts. Even the great conservationist Teddy Roosevelt's sons were proud to gift a stuffed and mounted giant panda specimen to the Chicago field museum in 1929. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The elusive panda was regarded as a somewhat mythical creature, which added to its mystique and lure. How ironic that proof of the iconic creature's death seemed to be required to prove it's existence!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In part what separates this expedition from others was the instinct to preserve not only the animal's legacy, but it's life, as shown in the opening excerpt from the Wikipedia article on Mrs. Harkness:</span><br />
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">Ruth Elizabeth Harkness</b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> (21 September 1900 – 20 July 1947) was an American fashion designer and </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socialite" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Socialite">socialite</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">, who traveled to </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="China">China</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> in 1936 and brought back the first live </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giant_panda" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Giant panda">giant panda</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> to the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="United States">United States</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> - not in a cage, or on a leash, but wrapped in her arms.</span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Y9Tjapmywr_V_5hJcCBebVFbFe08TdIcdvEc3-wPPulbLb7s-yT-MKd5FaeTXsFY2POO8l4v5FmlJaU1Bx7qp4_PSp93GjVZy96_02OTXGLKVut5YcZmSTGGWbqE_RwnoR57_V279ltx/s1600/Ruthharknesspanda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Y9Tjapmywr_V_5hJcCBebVFbFe08TdIcdvEc3-wPPulbLb7s-yT-MKd5FaeTXsFY2POO8l4v5FmlJaU1Bx7qp4_PSp93GjVZy96_02OTXGLKVut5YcZmSTGGWbqE_RwnoR57_V279ltx/s1600/Ruthharknesspanda.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15.828125px; text-align: left;">Ruth Harkness returns to the United States with Su-Lin<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Su Lin, whose name meant "a little bit of something very cute" became an instant celebrity, instigating an outpouring of "Panda-monium," a phenomenon confirmed by newspaper headlines the nation over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In and of itself, the story of the discovery of the first panda cub to arrive on our shores is thrilling and page turning. What adds an extra dimension is the fact that the woman who achieved this feat was the most unlikely of explorers. Her husband, a Harvard graduated, "Rooseveltesque" gentleman adventurer, had undertaken the original panda search shortly after their marriage. Two years into the trip, fighting the Chinese bureacracy as well as failing health, he died of throat cancer (his bride had not even known he will ill!), his mission in limbo. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bill Harkness' young widow, Ruth, chose to channel her sorrow in a remarkable way: she would continue her late husband's quest herself, her pampered urban lifestyle notwithstanding. (She was reportedly quoted quipping that she would not walk even a block, she'd hail a cab.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To fulfill this aim it was crucial to listen not to the many naysayers surrounding her, counseling a more rational course. Instead, this fashionable and seemingly lightweight lady of means determined to listen to her heart. She somehow managed to draw on inner resources of resolve, fortitude, and faith to make it happen, when logic and the prevailing wisdom told her: no way!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJikj8g9kD4vqmVs5GRd5RZhxSY9Rg5Wmdt9TfxoqCXX7lBiFqMTqKzLfLUCb3mxPfkcw1cGEIt3GI3Beld6Jzt2wkPt76UCAu36exmAM-wVcMHhF0bwAdkQCOheMniLKnRIOz_coKZCtl/s1600/baby-panda-zoo-archive_66365_600x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJikj8g9kD4vqmVs5GRd5RZhxSY9Rg5Wmdt9TfxoqCXX7lBiFqMTqKzLfLUCb3mxPfkcw1cGEIt3GI3Beld6Jzt2wkPt76UCAu36exmAM-wVcMHhF0bwAdkQCOheMniLKnRIOz_coKZCtl/s320/baby-panda-zoo-archive_66365_600x450.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruth Harkness and Su Lin in China<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She tapped 22 year old Quentin Young, an already seasoned purveyor of museum specimens in the wild, of Chinese/American heritage, who helped her map out a 1,500 mile trek along the Chinese/Tibet border. She fashioned a wardrobe, hired 20 people to cook, carry gear, and otherwise enable the effort, and set out, covering up to 30 miles of rugged terrain per day. Incredibly, she attained her goal in an astounding four months! The rest, as they say, is history, including how the lady and the panda became an American social and media phenomenon.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioMnkBVf_5V-PUiXZVYLhv6Zqe5wwaZnY6xypNK3B8KBpY0SH59JLxF_Pu1ZSq7FAwgxfF7weP4kCEBPMOsPOwc2icQ-hJ36QRFFVCyo-PiSqj-jC6dyvd98gqsvLtnCWDwxQZ1Et55vMh/s1600/Quaker+Oats.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioMnkBVf_5V-PUiXZVYLhv6Zqe5wwaZnY6xypNK3B8KBpY0SH59JLxF_Pu1ZSq7FAwgxfF7weP4kCEBPMOsPOwc2icQ-hJ36QRFFVCyo-PiSqj-jC6dyvd98gqsvLtnCWDwxQZ1Et55vMh/s1600/Quaker+Oats.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ruth Harkness' efforts helped further the cause of conservation. An entranced public became more educated about the need to protect, rather than poach, the panda. The episode also provided closure for her personal grief: before leaving China she scattered her husband's ashes and gifted her wedding ring to Quentin Young to give to his fiance. Harkness published her diary, The Lady and the Panda, in 1938, and returned to China with a second panda. She died at age 46 in 1947.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiN3tKfMe4RhR21WPAcR3v0zX4zBO0dN7Z5n2NSV_J7i27sXphWDb-JN3n0V5CnqT6gLDZCagpnM1ndOp-2-Q6k5nNheOsb_cIqV-zn18v4GHdT7t1iid9cMzehynMnLsm7bxQpGBigUwu/s1600/Su-Lin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiN3tKfMe4RhR21WPAcR3v0zX4zBO0dN7Z5n2NSV_J7i27sXphWDb-JN3n0V5CnqT6gLDZCagpnM1ndOp-2-Q6k5nNheOsb_cIqV-zn18v4GHdT7t1iid9cMzehynMnLsm7bxQpGBigUwu/s320/Su-Lin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Below are links providing additional background to this lovely but little known story. Mrs. Harkness and the Panda is cataloged as a J (junior level) book in our local library system, designed mainly for upper elementary aged readers. However, this 59 year old librarian who loves animals, love stories, and tales about unlikely ladies who take chances and beat the odds, recommends it most highly to one and all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJDNI5o_gZar50UuJEBVA6wLSJZfZEMVABI_GeHF5zmNlsD-d-565p14VYdfxhJk02q_l3r6GXqKJn3UN__RTNilJxppHt7Xpz46WIOKlPS4_syemESQsNIJ4GSANMTp4p_6ynTYXhYhU/s1600/mrs.+harkness+and+the+panda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJDNI5o_gZar50UuJEBVA6wLSJZfZEMVABI_GeHF5zmNlsD-d-565p14VYdfxhJk02q_l3r6GXqKJn3UN__RTNilJxppHt7Xpz46WIOKlPS4_syemESQsNIJ4GSANMTp4p_6ynTYXhYhU/s1600/mrs.+harkness+and+the+panda.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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h<a href="http://alistofsurprises.blogspot.com/2012/04/this-is-panda-you-understanda.html">ttp://alistofsurprises.blogspot.com/2012/04/this-is-panda-you-understanda.html</a><br />
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<a href="http://blogs.slj.com/practicallyparadise/2012/03/28/a-woman-explorer-giant-panda-mythbuster/">http://blogs.slj.com/practicallyparadise/2012/03/28/a-woman-explorer-giant-panda-mythbuster/</a>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-20909370211331651782012-11-20T09:02:00.000-08:002012-11-21T04:35:14.737-08:00Cats Dreams: Cream, Raining Mice, Catnip Trees<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>To nap, purrchance to dream</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We love to wonder what our babies are dreaming about, our furbabies especially. When their whiskers twitch and paws move we smile and imagine all sorts of delights cryptically crossing their dreamscape. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Author and poet Ursula K. LeGuin and Illustrator S.D. Schindler give us a peek inside the magic naptime of one curled up torty. I became a fan of LeGuin through her science fiction writing during my 20s. She has crafted a series of junior fiction entitled CatWings, and several other younger children's titles which feature cats and other critters. Schindler also collaborated with LeGuin on Catwings, Snow Globe Family, The Runaway Pumpkin, and others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /><b>First purrson</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The lyric poem of a picture book is stated in few simple words complemented by lovely watercolor and gouache pictures, which are lovely to look at but also help the reader "feel" the story. We see our kitty run and play then call it a day, spying a spot to curl up. Usually, this is all we get to see of our cats in repose. But LeGuin and Schindler help us picture the pleasures we could only imagine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Oh, how nice! It's raining mice! Oh, happy day! All the dogs have run away! Kibbles and cream. What a good dream! Now I'm climbing a catnip tree clear to the top. I'm going to stop and have a rest in a blue jay's nest, and all the birdies will wing to me..."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Suddenly, the catnip tree wobbles, kitty falls down (resembling our own sudden shakes in our sleep) and is jolted awake to find a better spot: "Her lap is the best, best place for a nap. I leap to her lap. I'm sitting on her. I'm singing my song inside of my fur. Purr..purr..purr..purr..."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Reader guidelines suggest that Cat Dreams is perfect for those in Pre-K through Second Grade, but catlovers of any age will no doubt be charmed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-84569926052348842082012-09-23T10:21:00.000-07:002012-11-19T08:54:28.124-08:00Travels with Tucker: Photojournal of A Little Dog's Big Adveture <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A CURIOUS DOG'S CAUTIONARY TALE</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Take one adorably disheveled yet dapper Jack Russell Terrier named Tucker. Place front and center of the experienced loving lens of his "Papa," fashion photographer Danny Sit. Result? A delightful story about a doggy who obeys his thirst for adventure but gets lost along the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I woke up today, I had no idea what the day would bring. The bed called out, "Don't go." But I pretended that I didn't hear.I greeted Turtle, my favorite toy, as I always do. 'Today,' I announced to Turtle, ''I'm going on an adventure!" </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite his excitement, Tucker is at heart a dog of deliberate temperament. The idea of adventure is set; no need to rush the agenda. In fact, our fella ruminates rather intensely all through breakfast. He's so worn out thinking about where to go, he forgets to "help clean up" (instead of being scolded, Papa praises his "best little dog in the whole wide world" and is rewarded with a "big wet kiss right on his nose.") </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tucker's head gets so heavy he seeks relief in an immediate nap. Upon waking, the world once again his oyster, Tucker apparently draws on his storybook superpowers, climbing to the tallest tree in the yard. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">DRESSED FOR SUCCESS</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No closer to deciding on his doggy destination, Tucker takes the sensible path of packing for any possibility. He brings his new coat with fancy new dog tag ("Papa said the tag would come in handy if I ever got in trouble.") Though it's a bright, sunny day, he recalls Papa saying how quickly </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the weather can change. Just in case "an iceberg floats down from the North Pole and he gets stranded on it," Tucker takes his warmest sweater. Thoughts of stormy weather prompt the packing of his yellow rain slicker, but our pup is not a gloomy gus by any means; he grabs his favorite hoodie, in case he runs across a "cool rock band" who ask him to join. After all, a little dude never knows!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dannysit.com "barney in cashmere"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wardrobe issues settled, Tucker tackles transportation. Recalling cozy road trips, our boy heads for the car but finds that driving requires Papa legs, not puppy paws, to reach the pedals. But wait, when Papa doesn't drive he takes the train! Tucker heads to the station just in time to climb "ALL ABOARD." A window seat, one more nap, the choo choo stops, and Tucker hops off to discover where his adventuring itch has led him. Nose and ears instantly disclose that Tucker's in the happiest place - the seashore!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I ran to the edge of the water. The rocks felt good on my back, and the sun felt good on my tummy. I gathered some driftwood. I dug some clams. How many biscuits can I trade for a bucket of clams I wondered. Lucky little dog that I am, I even found a big blue ball tat some other dog had left behind.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>LITTLE DOG LOST</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Suddenly, Tucker looks up from his fun and realizes he's far, far away from familiar creature comforts - his turtle, his bed, most of all, his Papa! Anxiety nips at his heels as he races up and down the beach wanting but not knowing how to return to them! Oh, the memories that flood his mind-- from that first day Papa brought him home to the time Eloise, the cat, took special care of him when he hurt his paw. Overcome, the only thing poor Tucker could do was to sit down on the beach and howl over and over "I'm lost!" Sadly, no article of clothing he packed had covered this calamity!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>A FRIEND INDEED</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just as Tucker's most forlorn howl escapes his lips, he hears a familiar bark! His best friend Puddles was playing nearby. Two Legs (Puddles' mommy) gives Tucker a "great big hug" (which he pronounces "swell" ), takes him home and shows him pictures of himself that a very worried Papa has been posting "everywhere!" A happy reunion is little more than a nap time away for our hero, who can at last rest assured that things will once more be set right in his world. Puddles' house is comfy and cozy, but it's not the same as being <i>home.</i></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">PAPA!</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The door opens and a distraught but delighted Papa greets/scolds his pup "Where have you been?" Tucker gives it all up, telling him everything, down to the tiniest detail, only stopping to plant kisses on everyone--everyone's ankles, that is, "after all, I am a very little dog," though now with a great big adventure behind him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Turns out, Tucker's story is a tribute to author/Vogue photographer Danny Sit's own dog Barney, another natural in front of the camera.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While Barney's adventures have taken him across the Rainbow Bridge, Sit remains doggy Papa and devoted personal photographer to two Jack Russell terriers named Apple and Henri - champion nappers both. Of all the terrific pictures in the book, the best may be the last page portrait of Sit reclining contently on his couch, a precious pooch lovingly perched atop his chest. </span><br />
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Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-77346128553264978312012-09-06T08:00:00.000-07:002012-11-19T08:48:04.319-08:00The Tamest Taurus: The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf; Drawings by Robert Lawson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Once upon a time in Spain, there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>SUBVERSIVE BULL</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's hard to imagine a more innocent premise for a children's story. However, once upon a time in Spain there was also a Civil War, which erupted in 1936 shortly after Munro Leaf's book debuted.<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span>Despite the author's homage to the little bull's homeland, "Ferdinand" was banned in Fascist Spain and burned in Nazi Germany. Though some tried to brand this simple story regaling a gentle creature whose tail swished to his own drumbeat "subversive" it not only survived but thrived; translated into 60 languages, it has never been out of print. Heroic figures from Ghandi to FDR lauded Leaf and Lawson's work. The rest, as they say, is history.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwLcCMJGiSfo2002JUz_de1oxoEVDNez9e5ilBB7doRrgWvn5acNrahjphXHD9bQvy8VZrrmxNGyyx914g6iKdKJyrWuEEJV2ckBBtZqpnj2nN94a1VEY6YjFDxuPJZ6vETjBioLDe8l6/s1600/280px-The_Story_of_Ferdinand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwLcCMJGiSfo2002JUz_de1oxoEVDNez9e5ilBB7doRrgWvn5acNrahjphXHD9bQvy8VZrrmxNGyyx914g6iKdKJyrWuEEJV2ckBBtZqpnj2nN94a1VEY6YjFDxuPJZ6vETjBioLDe8l6/s1600/280px-The_Story_of_Ferdinand.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Story_of_Ferdinand</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>MISFITS R US</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">Our library's new copy appeared to be an exact replica of the original. Recognizing it as a classic from my own childhood (though I'd never read it), nostalgia and curiosity led me to reach for it from among the more lushly illustrated modern volumes on display. From the first page, the simply drawn story drew me in.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like Rudolph (the Red Nosed Reindeer) Ferdinand was what used to be labeled in less politically correct times a misfit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "All the other little bulls he lived with would run and jump and butt their heads together. But not Ferdinand." However, he wasn't excluded from playing; he chose not to join in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>MAMA KNOWS BEST</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"He liked to sit quietly and just smell the flowers" under his favorite cork tree--a fanciful answer to the many who may have pondered where wine corks came from. Ferdinand didn't appear to miss the rough and tumble company of others. Of course, this worried his mother. But to her credit, she didn't care that her offspring was different (read: awkward, weird, nerdy), only that he might be lonely and unhappy. Realizing that he was neither, she left him to enjoy his solitude and sanctuary. In my book, she ranks among the great literary mamas of any species.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO77peO5I5Kz7OlvbkV8iGYwCMzqsHdLYLf7D5zyYwQfgi06uv9C-Ips21oCeOr6goJM37bUKF8Y1xE-0Bu7LlP1andSd0UeajiXF665cwkhmQTblFQ5GGWcS21U67o-V9Itmk8-xAtfF6/s1600/FerdinandSachet2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO77peO5I5Kz7OlvbkV8iGYwCMzqsHdLYLf7D5zyYwQfgi06uv9C-Ips21oCeOr6goJM37bUKF8Y1xE-0Bu7LlP1andSd0UeajiXF665cwkhmQTblFQ5GGWcS21U67o-V9Itmk8-xAtfF6/s320/FerdinandSachet2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <a href="http://latouchablesbagsandthings.blogspot.com/2011/06/do-you-remember-ferdinand.html">http://latouchablesbagsandthings.blogspot.com/2011/06/do-you-remember-ferdinand.html </a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>TO BEE OR NOT TO BE</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The little bull grew big and strong, but he didn't forsake his laid back lifestyle. While the other bulls fantasized of fighting in the bullring, Ferdinand could care less. However, he hadn't counted on the ironic twist of fate about to befall him. When men from Madrid arrived to find a fitting match for the matador, a random bee sting sent Ferdinand flying at full throttle. His involuntary display of strength and speed wowed the group and in short order our hermit-like hero was literally carted off to the city to face a surreal, Superbowl-like spectacle, in which he'd been cast as the main event. (One can only imagine the reaction of Ferdinand's "home boys" as the "quiet one" was awarded their long sought after "prize".)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaWRP6b9mGHlDJ6LhnN7etOmVOC9YQ3XWW-wfERCK8bptJ5wMysV7vFv2Nx0a0unlQbnvkZ6hgmj1IQrF3BupYp-pxgG6dpHB9tBDYrWWYizd7EEd16jx_x7YqjTR_92-WfI22c-KPd0b/s1600/ferdinand+big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaWRP6b9mGHlDJ6LhnN7etOmVOC9YQ3XWW-wfERCK8bptJ5wMysV7vFv2Nx0a0unlQbnvkZ6hgmj1IQrF3BupYp-pxgG6dpHB9tBDYrWWYizd7EEd16jx_x7YqjTR_92-WfI22c-KPd0b/s1600/ferdinand+big.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>AKA FERDINAND THE FIERCE</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Flags were flying, bands were playing..and all the lovely ladies had flowers in their hair." But the parade into the bullring soon raised a hackle on this reader. "First came the Banderillos with long sharp pins...to stick in the bull and make him mad. Next came the Picadores..they had long spears to stick in the bull and make him madder." Finally the Matador, who was "supposed to stick the bull last of all." appeared. (Gulp!) Enter Ferdinand, billed as "El Toro Feroz", or Ferdinand the Fierce.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpG4FtqUT1bKgG3nBi1nIZtv3vIlxFZedOExjGkNF6rVeIlLS6WtUgABYrh8zH1FXrlnh4iIYrjmAC7GUk-krUVrObCIjubrEb5BGKPeEBBvKYqcMdv8jG8A3AqtksMYmljepr2vzrsrVm/s1600/el+toro+feroz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpG4FtqUT1bKgG3nBi1nIZtv3vIlxFZedOExjGkNF6rVeIlLS6WtUgABYrh8zH1FXrlnh4iIYrjmAC7GUk-krUVrObCIjubrEb5BGKPeEBBvKYqcMdv8jG8A3AqtksMYmljepr2vzrsrVm/s1600/el+toro+feroz.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">SIT DOWN YOU'RE ROCKING THE BULLRING</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our hero was soon socked in on all sides by shouting and clapping; the noisy throng eagerly awaiting the requisite head butting, snorting, jutting and sticking (plus all sorts of other mean, nasty, horrible things that adults reading to children are undoubtedly relieved he didn't mention).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trembling, I could barely turn the page to learn Fernando the anything but Fierce's fate. I should have had more faith. This was one bovine who couldn't be bullied into being anything other than who he was. I've rarely been more relieved to read the rest of the story:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ..."not Ferdinand. When he got to the middle of the ring, he saw the flowers in all the lovely ladies' hair, and he just sat down quietly and smelled." No matter how his tormentors provoked him, El Toro Feroz proved more pussycat than lion. Frustrated, the Matador threw off his cape (the bullfighter equivalent to throwing down your bat and helmet I'm guessing) and just cried. The flower child that resides unseen alongside my graying soul flashed a triumphant peace sign.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Had Munro Leaf hailed from Hollywood instead of Maryland, the experience might have resulted in a major lifestyle upheaval for Ferdinand. Fortunately, no such travesty took place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <b>STOPPING TO SMELL THE FLOWERS FOREVER</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>"..for all I know he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy."</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC4Vnpu0wZRKH5Mid_y1hs1CDfq7OgoKuvkC-5q-XMBsw2FTUa9vNYtsTdFc_iyX8bJ1k2WFL9DsCW8jOLGmRC4GaOlFu9zk17Gi4kqKLv4CmV8YGh4Sfv1dM-cVi244PICETU4jstVLXs/s1600/ferdinandthebullstill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC4Vnpu0wZRKH5Mid_y1hs1CDfq7OgoKuvkC-5q-XMBsw2FTUa9vNYtsTdFc_iyX8bJ1k2WFL9DsCW8jOLGmRC4GaOlFu9zk17Gi4kqKLv4CmV8YGh4Sfv1dM-cVi244PICETU4jstVLXs/s320/ferdinandthebullstill.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.pixiepalace.com/bookblog/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/ferdinandthebullstill.jpg">http://www.pixiepalace.com/bookblog/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/ferdinandthebullstill.jpg</a>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Fun facts/ final notes:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The 1938 Disney Studio's feature won an Academy Award for best short animated picture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Robert Lawson was the first person ever awarded both the Newberry and Caldecott Medals for excellence in children's literature. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A search of online images reveals an astounding number of creative tributes to Ferdinand, reflecting the enduring resonance of the story, it's hero, and it's subversive yet satisfying message.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahttp://www.digitalbusstop.com/literary-tattoos-part-deux/dd caption</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>For more on Munro Leaf, Robert Lawson, and the controversy surrounding <u>The Story of Ferdinand</u>:</b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.childrensliteraturenetwork.org/birthbios/brthpage/12dec/12-04leaf.html" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.childrensliteraturenetwork.org/birthbios/brthpage/12dec/12-04leaf.html</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://community.penguin.com/_Celebrating-75-Years-of-Ferdinand-the-Bull-by-Liz-Shanks/blog/4947456/150186.html</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.bpib.com/illustrat/lawson.htm" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.bpib.com/illustrat/lawson.htm</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://scholar.oxy.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1021&context=ecls_student" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://scholar.oxy.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1021&context=ecls_student</span></a><br />
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<b></b><br />Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-86710268047515325172012-06-19T10:48:00.000-07:002012-06-19T10:51:41.349-07:00Yes Virginia (or Maryland, or Carolina), sandy claws do exist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipS6CIG3TBEpkgbn_rwxh5qoIiWVAMyqWXuQLoXXL9tGjTXOjdyyBllXQgG7QZRMd9zbAozD3vRk3Q_vPwD92jAe8-d7hwM8MlUkhk24CnfoYGhB63K20b3lVECkrx6VkZ98LkBTE4Q5Cz/s1600/seaside+cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipS6CIG3TBEpkgbn_rwxh5qoIiWVAMyqWXuQLoXXL9tGjTXOjdyyBllXQgG7QZRMd9zbAozD3vRk3Q_vPwD92jAe8-d7hwM8MlUkhk24CnfoYGhB63K20b3lVECkrx6VkZ98LkBTE4Q5Cz/s320/seaside+cat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dogs do it and people don't blink an eye. But picturing a cat enjoying the beach takes a master's leap of imagination, not to mention the exquisite artistry of illustrator Anne Mortimer. And who better to describe the delights awaiting a feline getting her first taste of sandy claws than iconic author of children's classic Goodnight Moon, Margaret Wise Brown?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The kitty whose adventure quest mirrors an inquisitive child's first beach experience is Sneakers, who starred in the author's <u>Sneakers: seven stories about a cat</u>, originally published in 1955, three years following her untimely death at age 42. While several baby boomer reviewers at Goodreads.com miss the original most readers seemed to welcome this updated offering. I concur with the <u>Lexington Herald Leader</u>'s accolade, "Kitty pictures so realistic you almost want to pet them," freely admitting to emitting audible "awwwwws" accompanied by an ongoing </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> desire to snuggle the adorable Sneakers! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who could resist tagging along with such a sweet "fat little cat" let loose in a wonderland seemingly designed for the incurably curious? We're by Sneakers' side as the tantalizing aromas of fish and sea mingle, enticing him to dip his paw into the chilly water. We feel his eyes widen as he spies a shadow in the sky, hears an assertive "Scree", and encounters the unthinkable, a bird who isn't frightened of him!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> We're with him as he playfully pokes at the mini shrimp popping up elusively in front of him like gophers in a boardwalk arcade game. We're close enough to sense the irresistible pull to put his head up to the magic pink and yellow shell which, though hollow, emits an echo of the ocean's roar! We listen, entranced, to the mysterious, powerful booming broadcast back to us from sea pounded rocks far off in the distance during our carefree chasing of colorful butterflies, as children might run with kites on the beach. We creep with our kitty friend as he innocently wonders at then touches a mysterious orange object with beady black eyes and ginormous claws, receiving in return an OUCH-inducing life lesson! Yes, we're beside Sneakers all the way, travelling back to the forever fresh memory of our own first beach day, our child's, or grandchild's. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The <u>Denver Free Press</u> suggests packing the book along for a child's first trip to the beach, which is an excellent recommendation. If you do, be prepared for requests from your little ones to have it read to them summer after summer. Word of warning: might also be a good idea to check the children's beach bags for the occasional smuggled furry traveler.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-70211778619265594532011-09-26T13:32:00.000-07:002011-09-26T13:44:20.993-07:00Goodnight Buffalo!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOX3jKqhK9avlLbVmyBykkH5rSnl7aFlgrKsGps7-RNdhZ_KcJL8SHX7SU1r0zuf6-utGQcmmat2sUTG4O0R1R-CrGSA6sYFFfoWSRLbLjGzogXINRCwuJ5XCPWA23IFAop4jnCJ6-KbU/s1600/buffalo+music.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOX3jKqhK9avlLbVmyBykkH5rSnl7aFlgrKsGps7-RNdhZ_KcJL8SHX7SU1r0zuf6-utGQcmmat2sUTG4O0R1R-CrGSA6sYFFfoWSRLbLjGzogXINRCwuJ5XCPWA23IFAop4jnCJ6-KbU/s1600/buffalo+music.jpg" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The soundtrack of today's daily life is composed largely of discordant tones, a cacophony of mechanized techno noise we've grown adept at tuning out with itunes, ipods, ipads, iphones, and other inert media we depend upon to re instill soothing sounds making existence more bearable.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While it's nice to imagine that during the proverbially simpler time of frontier America things were, by nature, a lot more peaceful, it's not necessarily true. As pioneers settled the Palo Duro Canyon area of Texas, for instance, critters continually punctuated the days and nights with enough noise to keep those wide open spaces wide awake. (Anyone who's lived in the country can attest that animals aren't silent creatures by any means.).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> But for one woman especially the sounds permeating life were a welcome treat. For Mary Ann Goodnight, nothing could be sweeter than the symphony she liked to describe as "buffalo music." </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Freelance writer Tracey E. Fern's first children's picture book was inspired by Ms. Goodnight's good works which helped to preserve America's buffalo herds. In her tale, beautifully illustrated by Laren Castillo, Molly (based on Ms. Goodnight) rescues orphaned buffalo babies who somehow escaped their breed's wholesale slaughter by hunters. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When i first settled here, hard on the rim of Palo Duro Canyon, I had no company but for the animals. I woke to the reveille of the roosters. I did chores to the choir of the crows. I dreamed to the chorus of the coyotes. Mostly, though, I lived to the music of the buffalo.</span></div></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I stirred the fire to the <i>huff-huff </i>of buffalo breath clouding the chill dawn. I hoed the garden to the <i>scritch-scritch </i>of buffalo scratching themselves against the cottonwoods. I scrubbed the bedclothes to the slosh and splash of buffalo bulls wallowing in the mud hole. I swept the dugout to the thunder of buffalo as they drifted like a dark cloud across the prairie.</span></blockquote><blockquote> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">One day different sounds filled the canyon--the boom and blast of rifles. "What are all them shots?" I asked Charlie. "Buffalo hunters, Molly," he said. "Fixin' to turn a profit on hides and hooves." </span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Seemed like every man in Texas was afire to make a fortune in the buffalo business. Day after day, the hunters galloped into the heart of the herd. Shots echoed over the hills and through the hollows from sunup to sundown. And day after day, another hundred or more buffalo lay dead..."How many till they've killed enough?" I asked Charlie as we rode by a mountain of buffalo skulls, tall as ten men. "Guess they figure no matter how many they kill, there's enough to roam these plains forever," Charlie said. But forever came fast. Within six season, the hunters were gone. So was the buffalo music.</span></blockquote><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Along with her other chores Mary Ann aka Molly rescued orphaned critters. Given her reputation for these good deeds, two scrawny buffalo baby foundlings were brought to her for care</span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">for. These were the first of a captive herd which eventually reached one hundred head, some of which she donated to Yellowstone National Park.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The rest, as they say, is history., and gladly a story as engaging and inspiring as it is informative (those who fear history as necessarily dull and dry will be most pleasantly surprised). </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Children as young as prekindergarten through second grade as well as those lucky enough to read Buffalo Music with or to them, </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">will learn how one person (and a simple pioneer woman at that!) can truly make a difference in our world.</span><br />
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</div>Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-73901533393848948082011-02-13T21:04:00.000-08:002011-02-13T21:12:39.489-08:00What is Your Heart's Desire on Valentine's Day??What could be simpler than celebrating Valentine's Day when you're a little girl?<br />
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Sadly, for little Heather life isn't quite as uncomplicated as it might seem to grown up eyes. It's a holiday, but still her mommy has to go off to work, leaving the house early in the morning not to return before it gets dark out.<br />
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Her grandmother tries to raise her spirits by engaging her in cookie baking -- together they roll out the dough and cut out animal shaped treats as well as one special heart shaped cookie she'll be able to offer her mom as a Valentine's Day present.<br />
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In between baking, grandma and Heather visit the barn to check on Clover the sheep. She has delivered three babies! Two are just fine, but the third one is cold and very still. Alarmed, grandma and Heather carry the wooly babe back to the house, bathing him gently in warm water and drying him in a warm blanket. After reminding grandma about the cookies in the oven, Heather helps out by holding the lamb in her arms by the fire, gently comforting and caring for the helpless critter. The little girl instinctively knows how much the babe needs her to provide the care its mother can't give.<br />
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At day's end, the cookies, though brown and crisp, have been salvaged, even the large heart shaped one. Best of all, the baby lamb has begun to show signs of life. When her own Mommy returns home, Heather has an extra special gift to share along with the heart-shaped cookie: the precious new life she helped nurture while Mommy was away.<br />
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When asked what they should name the lamb, Heather doesn't miss a beat in answering. She knows exactly what this little miracle of love should be called -- "Valentine".<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjID6aO3AZ7pr1YS-ifEGqvol3Cq5nWwtFbnOMTMhOPG7Lh0nqb_xFSpU-oR-_UTbR6q4DSDxq7OGZor6tokXG8hmOccm2juB_XWuXVqdR4wH3NwNGvKbnL8lmI2WxC1vO4-qMmrgxp0R/s1600/Valentine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjID6aO3AZ7pr1YS-ifEGqvol3Cq5nWwtFbnOMTMhOPG7Lh0nqb_xFSpU-oR-_UTbR6q4DSDxq7OGZor6tokXG8hmOccm2juB_XWuXVqdR4wH3NwNGvKbnL8lmI2WxC1vO4-qMmrgxp0R/s1600/Valentine.jpg" /></a></div>With beautiful watercolor illustrations and a subtle but substantive storyline, this gently moving tale will warm the heart of the reader and listener alike on Valentine's Day.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-59421490631592794422010-09-14T20:33:00.000-07:002010-09-14T20:42:02.728-07:00The Color of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOXA7W6MsPZx0ovGfr_lp-LYUepick-nKosRSBtrehrbOrsU0XuvRzqR51jscmnANj5kntC3oYrf2sTFOTpGHAWWdrHI4fWjAYXgj43RFtvLVgVZqpy1DmD4k1t545RG89F-FT34XYRrU/s1600/little+pink+pup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOXA7W6MsPZx0ovGfr_lp-LYUepick-nKosRSBtrehrbOrsU0XuvRzqR51jscmnANj5kntC3oYrf2sTFOTpGHAWWdrHI4fWjAYXgj43RFtvLVgVZqpy1DmD4k1t545RG89F-FT34XYRrU/s320/little+pink+pup.jpg" /></a></div>Once upon a time neighbors swapped stories and traded pictures over the backyard fence. Today, even rural neighbors with special news to share are worldly enough to turn to the internet, where they can reach a much wider audience. The children's book "Little Pink Pup" grew from a series of pictures posted on the world wide web by JoHanna Kerby, a farm family mom from West Virginia whose children raise all sorts of critters for 4-H and FFA projects. The Kerby's pet dachshund Tink was truly a mother hen at heart, having delivered a pup of her own and fostering several others. At the same time, twelve piglets were born to a sow out in the barn. Seeing the runt of the litter with no chance to feed, the Kerbys literally took matters into their own hands, bringing the premature porker into their home and right to Tink, who didn't bat an eye at finding a little pink pup posted at her belly. "She licked him and fed him and tucked him in close. She made him feel right at home." The brown puppies were equally nonchalant regarding the rosy newcomer at their side, eating and sleeping and cuddling and playing with him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And what about nature versus nurture? Pink totally took to sleeping on soft comfy blankets and running around the house. He even preferred puppy chow over regular pig "cuisine". But at bath time, Pink showed his true colors, squealing and kicking up a respectable fuss. Otherwise, Pink never threw his weight around, but sheer size dictated his relocation back to the barn; however his beloved doggy bed went with him (no word on whether the other pigs clamored for a PetSmart bedroom makeover). "Little Pink Pup" presents full paged photos that any mother would be proud of, and any animal lover will delight in.Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-17895699917023510752010-09-14T10:30:00.000-07:002012-11-21T04:35:34.778-08:00Saluting the Dogs of War<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4599725813721444652.post-39046879380042642632010-08-31T09:30:00.000-07:002012-11-19T08:52:19.592-08:00Fear of Flying, Doggy Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>ON TOP OF THE WORLD</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sid is a dog, yet not unlike a lot of kids (and grownups for that matter). One minute he finds himself inexplicably, deliciously, flying high. He's literally on top of the world! But when he tries to share this incredible experience with others, they quickly bring him back down to earth, and the landing is not gentle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>FEAR OF FLYING</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The confusion and sadness of having a spirit that soars and then being confined by the small imaginations of those of little faith is beautifully explored through British children's author Jez Alborough's lofty and lush illustrations and simple, rhyming verse that begs the question: even if logic instructs you to believe otherwise, is it wrong to let yourself go where your spirit moves you? Should you defy the confines of conventional wisdom, moral judgement, tradition, or other limitations? </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana;">DO DOGS FLY? CAN I?</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I first read through this story, I felt like I myself was flying, because Alborough so aptly described what it feels like to be a little bit different, and to feel a bit cursed by that fact. I love reading the story aloud, not only to children, but to the grownups who accompany them to story time, and to watch their faces react to the premise and the question contained: do dogs fly? why? and more importantly, why not? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Alborough describes his inspiration as a children's writer on his website, <a href="http://www.jezalborough.com/">http://www.JezAlborough.com</a>: "In children’s books I have been inspired by Dr Suess (although I never saw his books as a child). I think the <i>Grinch Who Stole Christmas</i> is probably my favourite. Dr Suess took this art form to a whole new place, he is to picture books what Jimi Hendrix was to the electric guitar."</span></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"></td><td class="tr-caption"><span class="reviewText" id="freeText2549199262014169181"><br />
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Debrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02852863999034800840noreply@blogger.com0