Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Too Many Mittens by Florence and Louis Slobodkin


I have heard great things about this book through the years, but had never actually read it. Then my sister gave me a library book sale copy. 

And it is pretty much as delightful as I have heard--full of red mittens, generosity, sharing, giving back, and a connected, caring community. 


I took all the pictures on my red sweater, then realized I had red mitten flannel sheets on our bed. So I took a few pictures against that background. Still not sure which one was the better background. Which is why I m putting up both. 




Adorable red cheeked boys! 


These adorable red cheeked boys were twins who had a habit of losing mittens. They were being looked after by their grandmother while their parents were on vacation. In this book, one of the twins misplaced a mitten.

The next day, the neighbor girl brought back the missing mitten. 



By then however, the damage had been done. Everyone knew the twins were missing a mitten. Their teacher gave them one to bring home. 


The garbage man, the milkman, and the grocers all gave the twins another lost mitten. 


Within a day or two, they had ten extra red mittens. 



And more mittens kept coming. 


And when the twin's parent's came home, their mother brought them red mittens. 


The twins showed off their extensive collection of red mittens. 


One of the twins had a brain wave. 


A red mitten line! 


It proved popular. 


By spring, there was only one mitten left. 

Monday, January 29, 2018

Singing Away the Dark by Caroline Woodward & Julie Morstad


This book? I adore it. My reasonings:

1. Julie Morstad--she could illustrate practically anything and I would love it
2. Peace River Valley of British Columbia--the author is from here, so theoretically, this little girl is too. My dad drove the Alaskan Highway a lot in the 1970's, so I grew up here phrases like, "When we were passing through the Peace River Valley..." and things like that. Nothing major, just part of the collected, random things of childhood that leave an impression. 
2. b. Canada in general--my mom is a Canadian. So I tend to like Canadian things. 
3. I had to wait and wait and WAIT for this book. I pre-ordered it for May, but for whatever reason, didn't get it until late summer. Deferred pleasure is always sweeter, right?
4. Singing. Singing makes EVERYTHING better. 


The thing about Julie Morstad is that everything she illustrates just looks instantly precious. The book hasn't even BEGUN here and already, I am smitten. Mittens! 


A young momma in a flannel shirt. Yes!


The basic story is of a young girl, having to walk across lots (or farms) to get to the bus stop. 


It was a long way to the bus stop, and in Northern BC, it doesn't get light until later in the day


This picture brought to mind that part of Anne of Green Gables where Anne and Diana let their imagination get away with them, making it practically impossible for them to walk through the woods alone without fearing greatly for their lives. 


But, she has to get through the woods. 


So she sings. Which lightens the darkness.



Once the dark is vanquished, there is a new worry--cattle. But she is not to be daunted. 


This neighbor looks like an interesting person to have a cup of tea with.



Finally! 


And school! 

I seriously, seriously love this story and art!!

Saturday, January 27, 2018

So our big news in the past months is that we are back in our house. You might not keep close tabs on what we are up to, but a year and a half ago, we moved out of our house to sell it and into a trailer on a lot we hoped to build on. The house didn't sell for the first few months, so we took it off the market so it wouldn't languish there through the winter months when no one buys houses. A friend from Canada was moving down here for work, so we rented it to her and we were all happy! Last October, the realtor called and said he knows our house was off the market, but someone was really interested, could he show it? Sure!

Once the contract was signed and sealed, we told our friend she would probably need to find a new place. She signed on a new apartment and our contract promptly fell through. 

Soo.... we had two houses, two mortgages, and two heat bills on our hands in the middle of a bitter cold winter. While it probably doesn't sound logical, we decided that we would move back to this house (space! light! no pipes freezing!) and just shut the water and heat off for the trailer. 

(It ended up that a woman who works with Mum needed a place to live, so she is currently renting our trailer.)


Our moving day picture. Mostly this was a joke to send to Lindsey--that this-is-our-new-house-we-are-so-excited picture that you usually take when you move into a new house. 


It was a long day--we moved most of our large stuff on one Saturday. Tempers were fraying, kids were exhausted, and Justin and I were questioning our sanity. 


But it was all worth it the next day when we had special meeting workers. 


That is our friend Theresa to the right, who had been renting this house from us. 

When I first found out our contract had fallen through I was outraged, frustrated, and ANNOYED. I had everything neatly planned out. How dare anything else happen? After telling myself to get over it, we plunged full tilt into plan B. 

Moving back into this house felt like moving backward, both physically and financially. And moving backward is not something I like to do. 

It was HARD moving out of here. (So much stuff. I hate moving.) And I get emotionally attached to places. This is where my kids were kids! Two of our babies came home from the hospital to this house! So why were we moving back in to it after I felt like I had made peace with selling my kids childhood home? What were we thinking? 

The equity we had in this house was already mentally spent in getting ready to build our new house. When will that house ever get built now?! 

I may have thrown my own wee little pity party for one--actually two (Justin had to attend too--part of the covenant of marriage I am pretty sure.) 

But oh. Once we were moving things in, it was hard to not recognize a feeling of coming home. This is where the jar goes for spatulas and whisks. This is the spot for the kids shoes. And over here is where we put the pen cup and plug phones in.

They were finally back where they belonged. And maybe we were too. 

Because.... 
SPACE! Justin and I could both stand on either side of our bed. Miracle!

BATHROOM! We had our lovely tiled, whirlpool, spacious bathroom again. I no longer hit the ceiling with my elbow in the shower. (Okay, that is a teensy exaggeration, but I did hit the ceiling with my hair and towel, so...)

SUNLIGHT. Do the manufacturers of trailers want people to feel depressed? Is that why they put the bare minimum of windows in? 


The first few days were were in here, it was exceptionally sunny (and cold). I was completely over the moon about the sunlight. 


I kept exclaiming and taking pictures. 

I exulted like no one's business. 


And the weekend Clover and Evan were up? We had our first company Sunday dinner in over a year and half. 

With a large family and college going on, I never had people over to the trailer for dinner. It was crowded and complicated. 

Back in this house, we had Clover 40th birthday party. Well we had cake anyway. 

(She is the first of us Vaughans to turn 40--how can I have a 40 year old sister?!?)


It was nice getting everything ready and having people to our house. I forgot what that felt like. 


Kids, comics, and SUNLIGHT on our bed. Did you notice the sunlight?!? Pretty great, huh? 


I am exclaiming and praising the space of this house, but it still is really a pretty small house. As evidenced when everyone lounged around the living room--no one could walk through without stepping over fourteen legs, give or take.'

So while I love being here for now, the house we want to build is still a very real thing. 

A month after moving in, it still feels rather surreal to be back in this house. We have owned this house for nine years, but I never went to grad school in this house. I never drove from here to my current job. Elsie never went to school from this house. Large chunks of our history happened in that trailer. 

But I am not going to start getting emotional about that trailer. Because.... well I am just not. I will just think about that shower. And the pipes freezing. 

Friday, January 26, 2018

January 30 by Julie Fogliano & Illus by Julie Morstad


January 30

it is the best kind of day
when it is snowing
and the house 
sounds like slippers
and sipping
and there is nowhere to go
but the kitchen
for a cookie

                                                                              --From  When Green Becomes Tomato



Friday, January 12, 2018

Snow by Nancy Dingman Walsh & Illus by Erik Blegvad


Snow

The strawberry hill is covered with snow
and blueberry bushes tick the ice
And windflowers lean on the drifts below
And the snow is trailed with the feet of mice.

I'm up on the hill, I'm deep in the woods,
I'm walking on wintery crust
And whenever I bump in a furry pine branch
I'm powdered with a snowflake dust. 

I stand very still and a crow caw, caws
A rabbit slips under a root
I hold my breath and the snow sifts down
And a chickadee hops on my boot. 

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Over and Under the Snow by Kate Messner & Illus by Christopher Silas Neal


I LOVE THIS BOOK. The biology/nature geek within me enthusiastically congratulates my kid's book loving geek on their mutual cleverness in finding this book. 


Aren't my little snow people darling? 

Yes, yes they are. 

Also, admire my gold flecked white formica counter tops. I keep waiting for them to come back in style... 


Basically, a father and daughter go cross country skiing in the snowy woods, discussing all sorts of natural history stuff. 


An owl above and mice below.


Mouse tunnels under the snow


Hibernating froggies


Pouncing fox


I love cross country skiing. Why is it always viewed as the unattractive step sister of downhill skiing? It is way better. So quiet and calm. 

I love quiet and calm. 


After skiing bonfire. 

I want to be this family. 


Winter is gorgeous. 


Under the covers


And animal-ly constellation dreams.

If this doesn't make you want to take a winter trek, I just don't know about you.