Red Reading Boots
Rose meets Mr. Wintergarten by Bob Graham has been around for awhile. I’ve been reading it to kids for almost as long as it’s been on this side of the pond. But I’ve read it two different ways, and I’m ready to confess that now. I love most everything about this sweet picture book. I adore the
My college boy is home this week. So far his spring break has been spent fighting a doozy of a virus, lying about feverish and wan. Perhaps there is slight comfort in Mom making tea and soup, verses the non-hominess of the dorm, I don’t know. He seems grateful. I asked if he wanted something to read and went
I finally had a chance to read one of my new favorite picture books — Worm Loves Worm by J.J. Austrian, illustrated by Mike Curato — to a group of kids. It was Valentine’s Day — the kids were making valentines, learning origami, and listening to love stories read by moi. My mistake was trying to call them away from the origami and stickers and
I tend to win things. Not always, of course…but if there’s an “enter to win” offer that shows up on Facebook and I don’t mind the sponsoring party having my email or mailing address (usually they already do), I enter. I’ve won concert and play tickets, music, dinner, and books this way. I think maybe not many other
“I might have instamatic flu,” said the young girl as her mother checked her in at the doctor’s office. “Let’s hope not,” her mother replied. Instamatic flu. Instamatic…flu…. The words bounced around in my head. “My mouth is wet, my throat is dry…” the girl said in half-hearted sing-songy voice as they took a chair in the
by Melanie Heuiser Hill When I was 16, my aunt gave birth to twin boys. We did not see them nearly often enough as they were growing up (we were separated by several states), but the memories I have of those boys when they were little are clear in a way they are not with regard to my other
by Melanie Heuiser Hill One of my favorite classes in college was a Shakespeare class. It was well-known, well-loved, hard to get into, and mandatory for all English majors. It organized my life the semester I took it. The rhythm it dictated was this: Arrive at class on Monday having read the assigned play and accompanying critical literature.
by Melanie Heuiser Hill It was my job to read to the children. There were many other stations — crafts and coloring, games and songs — all built around the most important task of the morning: The Trying On of the Costumes for the Christmas Program, which was to be held later that afternoon. I had my own little nook.
This week is full of preparations at our house. Lucia Day comes on Sunday and our household’s Lucia wishes to make the Lussekatter buns this year. I’ve learned not to stand in her way — she cannot be deterred. The magic of St. Lucia was introduced to our family fourteen years ago. It was a difficult December for
by Melanie Heuiser Hill I’m generally a reader of “traditional novels,” by which I mean novels that have chapters with titles, paragraphs with grammatically correct sentences, and perhaps the occasional complementary art under the chapter number. I’m intentional about expanding my horizons and reading graphic novels, hybrids, and the like…but I still have to be intentional about it, I’m
by Melanie Heuiser Hill I had the extraordinary fortune of seeing Judy Blume a few weeks ago. I was going to say “seeing Judy Blume in concert” — that’s sort of what it felt like, actually. She’s a rock-star in my world. And she was interviewed by Nancy Pearl, no less, so the whole event felt like I’d won a prize and
I’ve not kept track. Not really. I mean, I can peruse our many bookshelves and make a sort of list, but it would be missing things. What about all the library books we’ve read together? I was in a book discussion earlier this week with a woman who keeps A Reading Journal. She writes as she reads — notes and quotes, questions and
by Melanie Heuiser Hill When I plan a storytime, I always plan for the kiddos first and foremost. But I do like to give a nod to the grownups who have brought them when I can — something they’ll “get” at a different level than the kids, a treasure they might remember from their own childhood, a book that will make them smile or laugh. The Mouse and
Last night, I was reminded of our family’s love of The Berenstain Bears books. (Happy Sigh.) Before I go any further in my homage, please understand — I’m not claiming these books are stellar literature. I’m just saying that we read a lot of Berenstain Bear books at our house once upon a time, and we loved, loved, loved them. And
by Melanie Heuiser Hill When they were little, both of our kids had a fascination with anthropomorphic mice. One actually had a set of imaginary mice friends who preceded us into anxiety producing situations, of which there are many when you are a small child. These benevolent mice (who had names, specific jobs, and amazing vehicles of transportation) went