Wednesday, August 19, 2015

The Crayons Are Back!

   The crayons are back!  If you are half of the fan of Oliver Jeffers' work that I am, you need to run to your nearest bookstore and pick up the sequel to "The Day the Crayons Quit."  Drew Daywelt and Oliver Jeffers have completed the sequel to the hilarious text that had students from grades K-9 pointing, laughing and discussing at length.
   Not only is this a fabulous text for a read aloud, it can also be used to demonstrate pathos, logos and ethos in an argument.  Primary students will have strong opinions about the adventures of the crayons and boys will adore the "gross" humor the author provides.
   In my opinion, this is a five star book.  Enjoy!

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Holding On

  "Mija, will you ask your mom if she has any tweezers?" my father asks as he motions me over to the large chair he is lounging on.
  "Sure, Poppy," I reply.  This is odd. I've probably been here for an hour and a half at this point, and this is the first time he engages with me directly.  And it's to pluck out the hair in his ears.
    I gather the tweezers from my mother and slowly walk back to my father who hasn't moved from his reclined position on the outdoor lounger.  "Here we go Pops," I remark as I take his chin in my hands to turn his face sideways.  He complies.  
    I make small talk with him as we move through the task.  I ask him about memories from his childhood.  He still holds keen details of those days.  "I remember when you called your brother, Brother," he offers.  He brings that up each time we're together and I wonder about the meaning from that tagline, and how it managed to cement itself into his ever-growing-hazy memories.
    As  I turn his chin in the other direction I think of how often he turned me over when I was helpless, changed a diaper, bandaged a scraped knee.  Now the tables are turned, and I'm thankful for this moment, each of us holding the other in shared memories, eyes persisting to find mine and hold on.  
   It's in these small and brief moments that I find my father again, and I know I was prepared for these trying times by the gentle man who held my hand in his, and is still holding on.