Kiddie Lit: A Saga of Love

I have had a place in my heart for children's literature for a long time. I think it probably began when I was a child, since I read an inordinate amount. I distinctly remember one time when we were planning to be away from home for two weeks at a cabin somewhere when I was about 12, we had to make sure I got at least 15 books from the library. I remember being worried I wouldn't be able to take enough out.

I have maintained that love throughout my adulthood. I mostly keep up with what's new out there for kids. (Not in an academic way; in a pop culture kind of way.) I took a Children's Lit class one semester at Glendale Community College when I lived in LA. That was great, because we studied some of my favorites, including Harriet the Spy, my all time favorite book of any type and some new ones I'd not read before, such as Hatchet. I used to go to this amazing children's book store in LA called Storyopolis when I lived there. I bought a few picture books that came out around that time, too. One called No David! by David Shannon (I actually went to a book signing for that one.) I also began reading all the Series of Unfortunate Events -- Lemony Snicket books as well. One of my aunts bought me each book and sent them along as they came out. I love hanging out with friends' kids because it means I get to read to them. I went to the Eric Carle (of the Very Hungry Caterpillar fame) Museum in Western Mass. I know about Olivia, Maisy, Walter the Farting Dog, Eleanor, and others. I remember Ping and Mike Mulligan and Richard Scarry. I read Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants when it first came out and I was up on the Harry Potter way before most people. I love YA lit as much as picture books.

I have scared the ex (who, remember, has a two-year old) with my knowledge of children's books. It began the first week I met his daughter, when I sat on the floor and read to her, saying "Oooh, look! Sandra Boynton!" or "Yay, Eric Carle!" like a dork. He was amazed and a little scared. He is still a little scared. Just yesterday, he read me the list of books he'd just bought her, and I recognized one or two. He's one of the reasons this post is up, because he's switched from disturbed that I know this stuff to intrigued and convinced it's a message I should listen to.

I have kept some of my original copies of some books from when I was a child, including Harriet, which is a godsend because they have changed all the covers from the 60s, 70s and 80s and updated them. I guess that is a good idea, if we want kids today to be drawn to them, but it still makes me sad.

I love E.B. White, Judy Blume, Maurice Sendak (Little Bear was the first book I remember really being able to read myself), Louise Fitzhugh, Roald Dahl (oh Dahl!), Beverly Cleary, The Chocolate War, the Heidi books, Shel Silverstein, Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day (which I've been known to give to students when they are having a sucky time and has managed to maintain the cover I remember) and Oliver Butterworth. What? You've never heard of Butterworth?

This is worth a digression. I read The Enormous Egg in about the 5th grade. It was about this kid who finds and egg and hatches it and it's a dinosaur. I loved it. Loved it! I found out this author had written another book called The Trouble With Jenny's Ear, but the library didn't have it. Neither did the bookstore. (This was about 1985, so there wasn't an enormous bookstore on every corner and there was no Amazon and such.) I found out it was out of print. Somehow, my aunt and my mom managed to get me a copy. It was amazing. Jenny ends up with damage to her ear which leads to her ability to hear others' thoughts. (A quick search just found that it is available again in reprint from Amazon. I have my original hardcover copy (like the top photo) sans dust jacket (also like the top photo).

**UPDATE NOTE: 8/7/08 I just re-read Jenny's Ear this week. I still love it. And I forgot it's set in Massachusetts and they take a big trip into Boston and there's mention of all kinds of landmarks. As a Boston-area kid, I must have loved that! That's also one of the reasons I loved The Trumpet of the Swan.

Okay, back to the story. This obsession. Or passion. Or interest. Or whatever you want to call it.

I recently received info from Simmons, my alma mater, about a new dual degree program -- a combo master's program where you end up with a M.A. in Children's Literature and a M.S. in Library and Information Science. Simmons has the oldest Children's Lit master's program in the U.S. It also has the US News and World Report number 13 ranked Library and Info Science program in the country. This program was so intriguing to me when I read about it, I called for more info. Then I attended an information session in June about it. Then I set the whole notion aside since it's a 58 credit program with a price tag of $48,000.

Now I'm back to obsessed again. I talked to admissions today, and I could do up to 2 Children's Lit classes and 2 GSLIS classes before matriculating. They are called nondegree. They don't guarantee admission to the program after taking them, but they allow me to try it out and have time to do the application for fall 2009. No financial aid for these nondegree classes ($3500 each). I have a call into GSLIS to get all the info on their end.

I spoke directly with the director of the Children's Lit program as well (who is also an Associate Dean of the college and who totally took my call and spent 10 minutes with me only 2 days before she's leaving for 2 weeks on vacation). I gave her a 30 second summary of my story and asked which class I should take this fall as a first one. She asked if I had ever taken a survey course before. I didn't know what that meant. She asked if I'd taken Children's Lit before. I said I had, but only at a community college in Cali. She said, "When I say 'Where's Papa going with that ax?' does it mean anything to you?" And I quickly said "Sure, Charlotte's Web." And she said, "Okay. You're fine." She told me what class to take. Then she told me that if I take my vacation to Nova Scotia as planned in September for 2 weeks, I will probably fail the class by missing two sessions. She said to check with the professor teaching the course to confirm this. I thanked her and hung up. (I am awaiting response back from the professor teaching the course.)

So. Here I am. A list, if you will allow it.

- I think I would really like to pursue this degree.
- I think $48,000 for a grad degree is crazy.
- I am not entirely sure what I would do with this degree. I would love to run a children's library. I would love to be the children's buyer for an entire library system. I would love to do anything with school libraries, curriculum and teacher support for literature. I wouldn't mind working in children's publishing. The list goes on.
- I would love to be a student again.
- I am scared to work full time and go to school even part time.
- I do not have $3500 budgeted for this fall for a grad class, even with the ability to pay in 3 installments.
- When I think about learning deeply about children's literature, I get all excited.

So. I'm waiting to hear back from GSLIS Admissions. I'll talk with them about options, think about this some more, and perhaps enroll in CHL 414 with a thirty five hundred dollar price tag this fall. I'll forget about Nova Scotia and plan two shorter trips instead - to god knows where. I'll embark on a new adventure. I'll get two more master's degrees in 3 years. I'll combine my master's in education with its focus on counseling and development with these two new degrees, mix in my experience with events planning, organizational development, department management, resource management, human resource management, supervision, and perhaps come up with some amazing new career I haven't even figured out yet.

Holy crap. Am I as beserk as the hippos?

Veg-tastic!

This summer, I have a CSA share in Stillman's Farm. They are located in Lunenburg and New Braintree, MA. They participate in a bunch of the farmer's markets in Boston and they are the farmer's market in JP.

CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, and by people buying a share, it means the farm has money for the season to help supplement what else they'll harvest and sell. To shareholders, it means we get a box of veggies every week.

I bought a 1/2 share with my neighbor-friends, Katie and Chris. So they get 2/3 of each week's take and I get 1/3. I paid $100 for my section. We started on June 26 and it runs through September sometime.

This week, I picked up the box, which I hadn't done before, because Katie and Chris are in Vermont. This is what we got today:

-- 4 red potatoes
-- 4 ears of corn
-- one bunch of arugula
-- a big handful of peas in the pod of some sort
-- 4 cucumbers
-- 2 tomatoes
-- about a 1/2 pound of green beans
-- a 1/2 pint of blueberries (but she filled it to the brim for me)
-- 5 very small apples
-- one gorgeous green pepper

It was a pretty good take. Early on, we got lots of greens. Red lettuce, romaine, kale in three colors. This was the first week for tomatoes and potatoes. Very exciting. My 1/3 of this gig is worth far more than $100. It's pretty amazing.

I've been eating almost no meat during the week, because I just make piles of veggies and throw in some black beans for protein. There's nothing like a local cucumber. It reminds me how rubbery the grocery store cucumbers are, especially in January. Eating in season can be tough in the winter, but right now, it's just a treat!

The Wedding Date

The Wedding Date was a movie with Debra Messing (Grace, from Will & Grace) that came out in 2005 and was generally sucky. Of course, I saw it. That was the year that I was writing down every movie I saw in the theatre. (NB: I just pulled out that list and can't find the first two pages containing January - May, and since The Wedding Date was released in February, I can't confirm I saw it in the theatre, but I bet I did. I'm lame like that.)

Anyway, the premise is that this woman has to go to her sister's wedding and hires a dude to pose as her boyfriend and go with her. Of course, in the film, hilarity ensues, everyone's best intentions are effed up, and while I can't remember for sure, I'm certain that she falls in love with him, and he with her, all in the course of 48 hours. That's Hollywood for you.

I have 4 weddings this year. Four. That is the most I've had in one year, ever. How I got to be 35 without having a heavier year of weddings is a marvel, really. Perhaps it's a commentary on the fact that I don't have enough friends. Or perhaps I just don't have enough friends who manage to get married. Whatever. Facts are, there are 4.

I have few issues going alone, as usual. I've never actually been to a wedding with a date. Ever. (That's weird, actually, and probably another comment about me, but I digress.)

The rundown:

1. (This one is over and is therefore out of the mix, more or less, for the purposes of this post.) Was in Ohio and required a lot of expensive travel, so I wouldn't have really asked someone to do that with me anyway, even if I was dating someone. It was fine. I was seated at the "student-affairs-and-ex-student-affairs" table and we had a great time.

The three remaining are up-coming weddings, and are presented below in the order they will happen:
2. My brother's wedding at a swanky resort in N.H. for a whole weekend with every family member and friend of our family invited.

3. Old family friends (like siblings really) Andrew and Jillian's wedding. Party van hired by Butch, whole family riding together, no overnight stay required.

4. Cousin Micaela in N.Y. Have to drive to Buffalo, my whole family invited, won't know anyone else there.

Which of these three are the problem? Easy. My brother's. It is paining me severely that I may have to attend this shindig alone. My brother's friends and my almost-sister-in-law's friends are all 7 or more years younger than I and more than half of them are married or partnered. This is my only remaining sibling to get married and both of them are younger than I. I have a big, fancy, paid-for-by-someone-else hotel room for two nights that will only host me. I will have nobody to dish with after the wedding because my sister has a baby now and will need to go to bed and let's face it, doing that with my parents is just sad at this point. I want someone to dance with at that wedding who isn't my dad. The list goes on. Need I?

I have exhausted the possibilities. I am not dating anyone. Those who I've been on dates with recently don't make sense to bring with me to this event. I've asked my ex to come with me and while he's still considering it and trying to figure out if his crazy schedule will allow him to make the trip to NH, I am 90% sure it isn't going to happen. I considered, for half a second, to take a friend with me, but then decided that was just so imposing on the two friends that would even be possible (and one just had a baby, so she's really impossible) that I couldn't do it.

So, here I am. Choices at this point? Buy a date? Become Debra Messing? Post an ad on CL and offer someone sexual favors for coming with me? Or, hold off on the sexual favors and assume that, as in Hollywood, if I'm cute and awkward enough, he'll fall in love with me by Sunday? Jesus.

My brother and almost-sister-in-law are being champs. They have put me at a table with 8 other people with the ability to add a chair at any point. They have to give an number to the hotel peeps on Tuesday, so by Monday, I have to either have a date, not have a date, or not know and pay them $46 to hold the spot for me (this is because I'm obviously not asking my almost-sister-in-law's father to pay for a 10% chance that I might have a date). I am one of the cheapest people on earth. Am I really going to pay $46 for something that there's a 10% chance of? Or is it time to just let go?

I don't know the answer yet, and since it's Thursday, and I have 4 days to figure it out, I'm going to take all 96 hours of that time. I'll let you know.

A bite of a Vegemite sandwich

Everyone knows the song Down Under by Men at Work, but apparently not everyone knows the words or what they mean. Who knew?

I'm at the Fourth of July party that I've been to for the past 20 years or so. This year, though, the usual couple who throws it is in Alaska on a cruise, so their kids are in charge. These are people I've grown up with my whole life who are like siblings to me. They are much younger (I'm the oldest of this second generation by far) but are being responsible and good hosts. There's lots of differences in this party, such as the fact that drinking games abound and until everyone gets a little drunk, it's sort of boring.

My brother and his fiance get a hold of the beerpong table (called Beirut by the kiddies, but I'm rolling old school) and proceed to trounce everyone who challenges them. They have been the reigning champs for about 2 hours when Jillian insists that I become her partner. I try to tell her that's a bad idea - that I suck at beer pong - that I don't even know the rules. She's having none of it. So we go. We go and we kick some serious ass.

In the middle of the game, Down Under by Men at Work comes on. We are all sort of singing along and then my brother, who is known to sing at the top of his lungs in social settings occasionally, begins to sing loudly. This verse is on:

Buying bread from a man in brussels
He was six foot four and full of muscles
I said, do you speak-a my language?
He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich
And he said,

I come from a land down under
Where beer does flow and men chunder
Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.

Instead of "...and gave me a vegemite sandwich" he sings "...and gave me a bite of his sandwich" at the top of his lungs. He's just gotten done mocking me for missing a shot, so I said, "No! Vegemite sandwich!" He looked at me in confusion and said, "What? Vegemite? No! Bite of his sandwich!" Those on the sidelines start chiming in "I'm with you, S!" "What the hell is vegemite?"

I, of course, say, "Vegemite is this gross shit they eat in Australia" since at that moment, I can't remember what it is made of. No wonder I can't remember, since it's the leftover yeast after they make beer. Vegemite has added veggies to it, while marmite is the straight up yeast. It's disgusting. All my peeps in Thailand ate it. Their parents and friends would mail them jars of the stuff so they wouldn't have to go without. For some reason, the Brits like marmite and the Aussies like vegemite. (I've heard from a good source that Salacious B. Crumb is not picky and likes both equally.)

In this moment, though, nobody's buying it. My brother, at this point, stops listening to me and begins to sing, to the tune of Down Under, "I got a turkey, lettuce sandwich with no mayo." He hates mayo. Jillian turns to me at the other end of the table and says, "He hates mayo?" and I explain that my sister and brother both have, but my sister eats it now, he never would. "Weird," she says.

We finish the game, which was close, with him threatening us and getting increasingly play-annoyed that we are going to oust them. When we win, Jillian turns her back on the table, shakes her booty in his face and yells "Eat my mayo! Have some mayo!" That was pretty hilarious.

The next day, I dutifully look up the lyrics, paste them into an email, find the Wikipedia entry for vegemite, and send it all along to my brother, his fiance, Jillian, and one or two of those sitting on the sidelines. Everyone responds back that they'd been singing it his way for years, and he just emails "Vegemite is made up." Which is his way of admitting he had no clue.

Wonder if any of them know what "chunder" means. Don't think I'll ask.

And Trip Three is Over

To round out the most flights I've ever taken in one month, I travelled to Ohio/Kentucky for Todd and Kate's wedding. It was an easy trip (much easier than I thought it would be) and the wedding was lovely.

I flew from Boston to Columbus ($200 cheaper than flying to Cincinnati)then rented a car and drove the 2 hours down. Crossed the river, and thus the border, into Kentucky, and checked into the hotel with 2 hours to spare before the wedding shuttle would take me to the church. The reception was at the Taft Art Museum back in Ohio. The museum is akin to the ISGM here in Boston. Very cool.

After brunch the next morning, I headed back to Columbus after a quick visit with my maternal grandfather, who happened to be in the hospital in Cincinnati (he lives about 40 minutes outside the city). Thirty-five bucks for the rental car (beat that!) and 40 minutes of circling Boston later, and I was happily at home in JP. Exactly 37.5 hours gone from my house. Crazy. This must be what business travel is like, flying to LA for a meeting, and back in time for breakfast the next morning.

I went straight to a BBQ at my neighbor-friends' house, in order to celebrate their engagement, which I'd been alerted to earlier in the day via phone call, somewhere on Route 71 between cities in Ohio. They are doing it soon, doing it small, and are very happy about it. I'm excited for them, considering they are an amazing couple who I think will be very happy for a long time.

Thus ends my month of domestic trips. Whew. And imagine, all that travel, all that time, all that money (in some cases) and none of the three are cities I even have a shred of appreciation for. Oh sure, Houston is home to my niece, and Cincinnati was pretty enough (I'm partial to cities with huge rivers in them.), but given my choice of major U.S. cities to visit, Atlanta, Houston or Cincinnati would rank somewhere below number 100...

Now is time to breathe and enjoy my favorite holiday and then gear up for two more trips (Western Mass and NYC) in July followed by wedding craziness in August. I love summer (except the heat, of course).