I have been a few times, and not blogged about it, however, I got a request by way of compliment of my Duck for a Buck stories, so I thought I would share today's event with you. Duck for a Buck is a PTA fundraiser at my children's school that sells assorted, themed, rubber ducks each Friday morning as the children enter the school. The little birds only cost a dollar, and have become a hit. The best part is the children, and our interactions with them. I have asked if I can come each Friday to help, instead of signing up for the odd date that isn't signed up for on Sign Up Genius. Some times I have other mom volunteers with me, and once or twice, I have been alone.
Last Friday was a really hard day to sell, since most of the popular ducks were sold out, and we were really low on most ducks. I had to make a new popular duck, and even added in a free accessory. You will have to read that post if you want to know more about last week. That Friday afternoon, a new shipment of ducks came in, and I was soooo excited about coming to sell this week. My heart skipped a beat last Saturday when I heard that they would be selling them at the PTA spirit wear booth at the Flag Football/Fall Festival event we attended. I thought for sure I would break all duck sales records if given hours to sell them. However, they wouldn't let me near the ducks! I was left alone to sell tickets for the pumpkin contest. I was crestfallen. (I don't know exactly what that word means, but I was like a girl who had lost her puppy at that moment when I realized that my ducks and I would be so close, yet so far apart.) I know they felt it to. They were speechless.
Needless to say, I was very ready for today. So, we get there, and grab the cart, begin setting up, and another mom joined me to peddle these rubber pieces of... I mean, I had help. So, we begin, and one of the first children that came, asked for a duck she had found. I asked for her buck. She had nothing. She said her mom didn't give her any money, but that she wanted it. I said that she could pick a duck next week if she brought me a dollar for it. She was joined by other students as they began to trickle in off a bus that had just pulled up. The lead person in charge of Duck for a Buck sales arrived, and the little girl looks to her to ask her if she could have yet another duck she wanted. I jumped in with the same response from before. She needed to give me a dollar to pay for it, and then she could have a duck. The girl continued, and asked yet again. I said no. The girl was pissed. She threw the duck back into its' bin, pouted, and walked away. All I could do was laugh. I am sure that her tactic might work for someone, perhaps her parents, maybe a grandparent, but not for this chick.
Then, there was a frequent customer of ours that was having a birthday. She asked if she could have a free duck. The best part of her request, was her response when I told her that she would not score a free duck. She too, seemed displeased with my answer. I did offer to wish her a happy birthday, twice. And I followed through with my promise. I hope it makes her day merry and bright. She needs it. She was sorta' in a funk when she realized that coming out of her mother's girlie bits on this day, many years ago, doesn't qualify her for a free rubber duck. My "boss" recognized her as the girl that once asked for some more politically correct ducks, like an "island or African duck." So, my thought was, I should have wished her a happy birthday in a Caribbean accent, or at least, found a duck with a lei to give her a kiss.
Then there was a boy who said he didn't have any money, but he was asking about a duck, and I asked him to put "Henry" down gently if is not going to purchase him. He asked if all the ducks have names, and yes, I told him that I had named them all, but that the ducks understand if the purchaser wishes to rename them. So, he began picking up one duck after another, asking for the name. After about four names, I couldn't think so fast, so occasionally, he'd dig into a different bin, and when he would say, "This one? What's this one's name," I would look at the duck, ask which bin it was from, and then I would take that time to come up with another name. Whew. Luckily, I had children buying ducks all the while, and he give me a second or two in between. There was a rapid succession of a few ducks, and I don't think he caught on....
Boy- This one?
Me- John.
Boy- Him?
Me- Paul.
Boy- How about this one?
Me- Luke.
Boy- And this one?
Me- Matthew.
Boy- Hey guys! She really knows all their names! How about this one. (It was a mer-duck.)
Me- Jaunita.
Boy- What about this one?
Me- Look, if you don't have a buck, you are out of luck. Have a good day boys!
Oct 10, 2012
The blog in which I admit my embarrassing problem. Don't judge.
While I don't embarrass easily, this past year I have found myself getting super involved in and around our community, and meeting lots of amazing people. While each person I meet has their own story to tell, I have this problem of not remembering it. Or their face. Or how I know the face.
Just a few weeks ago I was in a specialty toy store with my family for an American Girl doll event, and ran into a smiling face that immediately recognized me, and said "hi." Luckily, my migits were there and it didn't take as long for me to realize that this warm smile was actually my son's teacher this year. Wow. A little slow on the reaction speed, however, it gets worse. Just a week after that event, I was in the school office and was stuffing each teacher's mailbox with PTA newsletters and another smiling face comes at me and says "hi." Yep, again, same teacher, but because she was not in her room, I could not place how I knew her. Within 30 seconds I figured it out, but man, this lady has all the nails in my crazy coffin lined up now, for sure.
Then, on Monday, Geoff had off with the bank holiday, and decided to come and help with my marathon Monday of volunteering I do in the school, and I was really enjoying my morning, and along comes a group of kids with another parent volunteer to exchange books in the media center. The mom was super nice, said "Hi Erin," and I was yet again forced to try to feign true recognition. She left, and I know my acting skills were horrible, and I was feeling terrible. I was lying in bed that night, and it hit me. I saw her face in the place I met her, about 2 months ago, at the free movie in the park while she was at her booth, advertising her local Macaroni Kid blog for our area. Wow. I was sooo embarrassed. I never embarrass, unless I feel like I might have made some one else feel bad, and this was exactly what happened. I messaged her on Facebook, and yes, she verified it was her, and she was SO COOL about it, that I feel comfortable enough to make it a topic. BTW- If you are a local parent, the Canton Macaroni Kid blog is really my favorite local blog. Lots of "know before you go type stuff," tons of different events for families that I never seem to be able to find on my own, and she is really that sweet that you have got to come and meet her at some of the local events. (I get the pleasure of seeing her at my kids' school, but don't even realize it, I guess.) She even gets lots of deep discounts and does really great giveaways. The Disney on Ice winner is a girl I happen to know through Geoff from years ago! Local people really do win her giveaways! Find her online and like her on Facebook.http://www.facebook.com/cantonwoodstockmackid
http://canton.macaronikid.com/ Pass her information on to your friends too!
What embarrasses you? Kids saying something inappropriate in public? Sex talk? Finding out that you wore your shirt backwards? An autocorrect you don't catch and it appears your phone is a dirty old man? Well, for me, it's having a hard time recognizing people. And I hope that you all will appreciate my honesty, and start wearing name tags and how I might know you from now on. Thanks.
Just a few weeks ago I was in a specialty toy store with my family for an American Girl doll event, and ran into a smiling face that immediately recognized me, and said "hi." Luckily, my migits were there and it didn't take as long for me to realize that this warm smile was actually my son's teacher this year. Wow. A little slow on the reaction speed, however, it gets worse. Just a week after that event, I was in the school office and was stuffing each teacher's mailbox with PTA newsletters and another smiling face comes at me and says "hi." Yep, again, same teacher, but because she was not in her room, I could not place how I knew her. Within 30 seconds I figured it out, but man, this lady has all the nails in my crazy coffin lined up now, for sure.
Then, on Monday, Geoff had off with the bank holiday, and decided to come and help with my marathon Monday of volunteering I do in the school, and I was really enjoying my morning, and along comes a group of kids with another parent volunteer to exchange books in the media center. The mom was super nice, said "Hi Erin," and I was yet again forced to try to feign true recognition. She left, and I know my acting skills were horrible, and I was feeling terrible. I was lying in bed that night, and it hit me. I saw her face in the place I met her, about 2 months ago, at the free movie in the park while she was at her booth, advertising her local Macaroni Kid blog for our area. Wow. I was sooo embarrassed. I never embarrass, unless I feel like I might have made some one else feel bad, and this was exactly what happened. I messaged her on Facebook, and yes, she verified it was her, and she was SO COOL about it, that I feel comfortable enough to make it a topic. BTW- If you are a local parent, the Canton Macaroni Kid blog is really my favorite local blog. Lots of "know before you go type stuff," tons of different events for families that I never seem to be able to find on my own, and she is really that sweet that you have got to come and meet her at some of the local events. (I get the pleasure of seeing her at my kids' school, but don't even realize it, I guess.) She even gets lots of deep discounts and does really great giveaways. The Disney on Ice winner is a girl I happen to know through Geoff from years ago! Local people really do win her giveaways! Find her online and like her on Facebook.http://www.facebook.com/cantonwoodstockmackid
http://canton.macaronikid.com/ Pass her information on to your friends too!
What embarrasses you? Kids saying something inappropriate in public? Sex talk? Finding out that you wore your shirt backwards? An autocorrect you don't catch and it appears your phone is a dirty old man? Well, for me, it's having a hard time recognizing people. And I hope that you all will appreciate my honesty, and start wearing name tags and how I might know you from now on. Thanks.
The blog in which I share my tardiness on a special Ahrens event. My apologies to the elves.
I suppose I can't technically call myself a writer, since I do more writer block complaining and less writing nowadays. Oh well. Although, I had a lunch date today with a close friend who noticed how late I am on our yearly event. I mentioned how I spent much of the morning cleaning and prepping for our Friday Family Fun Night this week. We normally do this event on the first Friday of October, however, we had a BINGO night to try out at the YMCA last Friday night, so we decided to postpone the event. The migits aren't too aware of the calendar at this point anyway, so we thought we could get away with it.
We told the kids on Saturday that we were going to let them guess what this coming week's activity was going to be. They had such great guesses, that it gave me some more ideas for future Friday night plans. However, two days into it, neither one got it. By Sunday, we told them that for dinner, we would have our traditional Friday Night Pizza, but that this one would have ham on it. That's part of the clue. Then, we told them that we would make our dessert. We would make sugar cookies and decorate them. Got it now? Then....
The suggestions the kids threw at me were fantastic. Shay thought perhaps we would horseback ride, or go fly a kite. Charlie took over with thinking after Sunday, and his ideas included chimney cleaning and swimming in the ocean. It was such a let down when I explained that we don't have a chimney. As for the ocean, I don't like sand in my girlie-parts. I assume that would have been an even bigger let down had I explained that, but I think he is screwed up enough, so I just told him that wasn't what we were doing. After about 10 minutes, he really did come up with it. DECORATING FOR CHRISTMAS!
While I was raised in the bible belt of America, someone forgot to mention that to my Jewish family when we moved here. So my friends all had Christmas and lights, smells, sounds, and the whole day, I had Chanukkah. You have all heard my take on that holiday. The Christians celebrated the birth of their savior! The Jews--- oil. Whoopee. Trying to control my excitement over oil, I see why Ben Stein is so un-enthused by life. I always loved Christmas, and no, it's not why I converted. I would have been one of those Jews that quirkily loved Christmas regardless. So, I converted, and I felt like I had about 25 years worth of Christmas's stolen from my life, and I am merely making up for lost time now.
We have all sorts of traditions for Christmas. We have music going almost year round with online radio stations that allow us to find a few classics throughout the year. In fact, when I am really mad at Geoff, he runs and grabs an iPod, sets it to Christmas music, sets it up near me, and runs. It's not conventional, but it's how we roll ;o)
We have the Christmas classics on DVD box set, and watch a movie a night until we have run through those. Shay was given an amazing Advent Book of mini books that have the bible scriptures in story form explaining the real Christmas story, and that is a nightly thing we do each year as well. The family piles into the car with a cup of hot chocolate and we look in neighboring subdivisions for their light displays. Our favorite is the Bridgemill Avenue trifecta of homes that have a little blow up village of balloons. I loved the Mickey one and the carousel the best ;o) I don't care for large gaudy lights. White is classy, and I also appreciate the manger scenes. No joke- I take my light appreciation to a ridiculous level of pickiness and make sure my windows are up while I make my running commentary on other people's efforts. Then there is dessert bag making for friends and family, teachers, and therapists, bus driver, and this year, we will probably make it over to drop off with a community service workers- thinking fire stations and maybe to our priests. The children usually pick a few names from our gift tree at church, and hopefully, we will pick some elderly people to go and purchase and wrap gifts for this time. They like the gifts for children tags, since those are usually toys, and toys seem way more fun then toiletries and sucking candies. I don't blame them. I love toy shopping too! The calendar must be prepared soon, as the "flip the switch" on the tree alternating days will begin on Friday night as well.
And Shout. Lest we not forget our Elf on the Shelf. Shout joined our family when Shay was 2 and Charlie was 3. We have a ton of great ways that Shout has come back to our home each day during the Christmas season. Luckily, many other families have shared some creative ways their elves have come to them (on Pinterest), and this year, I will have a fresh batch of activities for Shout to participate in. Wink, wink. Shout has always made it to our home on Shay's birthday, November 23. However, I think Shout might send us a letter to read that he will stick in the Christmas decorations on Friday night telling us how excited he was to see us this past year doing all the fun things we did. He might even mention some of the new things we did; swim team, starting kindergarten and first grade, going to the cabin with Brody, gymnastics, dance recital, etc. I still think he will make his first appearance on her birthday, maybe waking up in Shayna's doll bed, cross dressing into hippy clothes from the doll. (I have had too much time to think this one up peeps.) Shay got the doll bed for Christmas last year, and all year I have been thinking how it would make a great "hiding" spot. The cross dressing part is solely for adult entertainment purposes, however, my migits have a surprisingly fantastic sense of humor, and I think it will be a hit. If you don't have a doll bed, try the elf napping in the tissue box, using a folded tissue as a pillow and a tissue as a cover. Elves like candy canes or red and white mints on their pillows- FYI.
For our local friends, the (free) Movies in the Park series continues this Saturday with Ice Age 4, the newest in that series. The weather is set to be perfect for a Fall night. So, our Super Saturday is set, and our Sunday Funday will probably be mellow, as the kids need some down time at home after church. Maybe a quick swim at the YMCA or a family walk. Who knows... honestly, whatever we do this weekend, as long as we are together, it will be magical.
What are your plans this weekend? Anything fun? What are your Christmas traditions?
We told the kids on Saturday that we were going to let them guess what this coming week's activity was going to be. They had such great guesses, that it gave me some more ideas for future Friday night plans. However, two days into it, neither one got it. By Sunday, we told them that for dinner, we would have our traditional Friday Night Pizza, but that this one would have ham on it. That's part of the clue. Then, we told them that we would make our dessert. We would make sugar cookies and decorate them. Got it now? Then....
The suggestions the kids threw at me were fantastic. Shay thought perhaps we would horseback ride, or go fly a kite. Charlie took over with thinking after Sunday, and his ideas included chimney cleaning and swimming in the ocean. It was such a let down when I explained that we don't have a chimney. As for the ocean, I don't like sand in my girlie-parts. I assume that would have been an even bigger let down had I explained that, but I think he is screwed up enough, so I just told him that wasn't what we were doing. After about 10 minutes, he really did come up with it. DECORATING FOR CHRISTMAS!
While I was raised in the bible belt of America, someone forgot to mention that to my Jewish family when we moved here. So my friends all had Christmas and lights, smells, sounds, and the whole day, I had Chanukkah. You have all heard my take on that holiday. The Christians celebrated the birth of their savior! The Jews--- oil. Whoopee. Trying to control my excitement over oil, I see why Ben Stein is so un-enthused by life. I always loved Christmas, and no, it's not why I converted. I would have been one of those Jews that quirkily loved Christmas regardless. So, I converted, and I felt like I had about 25 years worth of Christmas's stolen from my life, and I am merely making up for lost time now.
We have all sorts of traditions for Christmas. We have music going almost year round with online radio stations that allow us to find a few classics throughout the year. In fact, when I am really mad at Geoff, he runs and grabs an iPod, sets it to Christmas music, sets it up near me, and runs. It's not conventional, but it's how we roll ;o)
We have the Christmas classics on DVD box set, and watch a movie a night until we have run through those. Shay was given an amazing Advent Book of mini books that have the bible scriptures in story form explaining the real Christmas story, and that is a nightly thing we do each year as well. The family piles into the car with a cup of hot chocolate and we look in neighboring subdivisions for their light displays. Our favorite is the Bridgemill Avenue trifecta of homes that have a little blow up village of balloons. I loved the Mickey one and the carousel the best ;o) I don't care for large gaudy lights. White is classy, and I also appreciate the manger scenes. No joke- I take my light appreciation to a ridiculous level of pickiness and make sure my windows are up while I make my running commentary on other people's efforts. Then there is dessert bag making for friends and family, teachers, and therapists, bus driver, and this year, we will probably make it over to drop off with a community service workers- thinking fire stations and maybe to our priests. The children usually pick a few names from our gift tree at church, and hopefully, we will pick some elderly people to go and purchase and wrap gifts for this time. They like the gifts for children tags, since those are usually toys, and toys seem way more fun then toiletries and sucking candies. I don't blame them. I love toy shopping too! The calendar must be prepared soon, as the "flip the switch" on the tree alternating days will begin on Friday night as well.
And Shout. Lest we not forget our Elf on the Shelf. Shout joined our family when Shay was 2 and Charlie was 3. We have a ton of great ways that Shout has come back to our home each day during the Christmas season. Luckily, many other families have shared some creative ways their elves have come to them (on Pinterest), and this year, I will have a fresh batch of activities for Shout to participate in. Wink, wink. Shout has always made it to our home on Shay's birthday, November 23. However, I think Shout might send us a letter to read that he will stick in the Christmas decorations on Friday night telling us how excited he was to see us this past year doing all the fun things we did. He might even mention some of the new things we did; swim team, starting kindergarten and first grade, going to the cabin with Brody, gymnastics, dance recital, etc. I still think he will make his first appearance on her birthday, maybe waking up in Shayna's doll bed, cross dressing into hippy clothes from the doll. (I have had too much time to think this one up peeps.) Shay got the doll bed for Christmas last year, and all year I have been thinking how it would make a great "hiding" spot. The cross dressing part is solely for adult entertainment purposes, however, my migits have a surprisingly fantastic sense of humor, and I think it will be a hit. If you don't have a doll bed, try the elf napping in the tissue box, using a folded tissue as a pillow and a tissue as a cover. Elves like candy canes or red and white mints on their pillows- FYI.
For our local friends, the (free) Movies in the Park series continues this Saturday with Ice Age 4, the newest in that series. The weather is set to be perfect for a Fall night. So, our Super Saturday is set, and our Sunday Funday will probably be mellow, as the kids need some down time at home after church. Maybe a quick swim at the YMCA or a family walk. Who knows... honestly, whatever we do this weekend, as long as we are together, it will be magical.
 |
| Bought this on clearance at the end of the season last year for about $5. Shay is soooo excited about this part of the night. |
Oct 7, 2012
The blog in which today is my 36th birthday!
Happy birthday to me! I am so bummed that I don't have humor writing inspiration tonight for today's blog, so I will re post a link to one of my favorite blogs of all time. While I have had the most positive feedback on Duck for a Buck Blogs, the blogs with pictures, or book reviews, my personal favorite is.... drum roll...
http://adventureswithahrens.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-blog-in-which-i-curse-dessert.html
I also loved my post on the trampoline warnings, but that was back at least a month ago, and since it's my birthday, I'm going to stop blogging for a while and go enjoy this foot rub my husband promised to give me all the days of our lives, and ten years later, I get about 3 times a week. Not bad after ten years..... Happy birthday to me, and enjoy an old but fav. blog ;o)
http://adventureswithahrens.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-blog-in-which-i-curse-dessert.html
I also loved my post on the trampoline warnings, but that was back at least a month ago, and since it's my birthday, I'm going to stop blogging for a while and go enjoy this foot rub my husband promised to give me all the days of our lives, and ten years later, I get about 3 times a week. Not bad after ten years..... Happy birthday to me, and enjoy an old but fav. blog ;o)
Oct 5, 2012
The blog in which I sold the impossible.
Ahhh....We made it! It's Friday. And what do we do on Friday's boys and girls???? Duck for a Buck for PTA! I LOVE this volunteer position more than I have shared with you. Seriously... Each time I go, I have the best time. First, the kids love someone selling a cheap toy. Second, the kids are hilarious! Lastly, I am incredibly motivated to move some stagnant ducks my peeps.
We are awaiting an order of new ducks to come, so the duck selection is slim picking, and most of the kids that have been purchasing ducks, have all the ones that they really wanted. The specialty ducks, like the glow in the dark ones, or the ones with hair, the cheerleaders, mer-ducks, etc., have all sold out. So, we were stuck with the less popular ducks to sell today. No problem. I was helping two other moms, and Geoff was there as well, so it freed me up to work my magic. I set a personal goal. I was going to sell at least 4 of the rainy day ducks. Those are the ducks that have a little rain jacket, hat and an umbrella tucked neatly under its' wing. Well, it's all plastic, so it's all molded that way, but I noticed that the umbrella's all had different colors, and man, I worked that umbrella angle like no body's business.
"We have special edition Rainy Day Duck today! Only a dollar for the duck! Free umbrella accessory included in this purchase price of a mere dollar! That's right! You heard correctly- free umbrella for your duck, and a MULTITUDE of umbrella colors to chose from!" See, I think expanding their vocabulary is important. I am all about education. The teachers can thank me for that later. I might have even used the word "myriad" of colors later on as the sales slowed. I had ten minutes from the time I set my personal sales goal. And you know what? I sold six or seven. I can't wait for the Christmas shop to come back again this year. I will move more cheap mugs than Santa gives out candy canes this year! PS I heard through the grapevine that the new shipment arrived, and I can't wait for next Friday!
Here are the ducks--- these are the same ducks from over a month ago when we started. Notice the free umbrella? It's a steal, right? That's what I though too!
We are awaiting an order of new ducks to come, so the duck selection is slim picking, and most of the kids that have been purchasing ducks, have all the ones that they really wanted. The specialty ducks, like the glow in the dark ones, or the ones with hair, the cheerleaders, mer-ducks, etc., have all sold out. So, we were stuck with the less popular ducks to sell today. No problem. I was helping two other moms, and Geoff was there as well, so it freed me up to work my magic. I set a personal goal. I was going to sell at least 4 of the rainy day ducks. Those are the ducks that have a little rain jacket, hat and an umbrella tucked neatly under its' wing. Well, it's all plastic, so it's all molded that way, but I noticed that the umbrella's all had different colors, and man, I worked that umbrella angle like no body's business.
"We have special edition Rainy Day Duck today! Only a dollar for the duck! Free umbrella accessory included in this purchase price of a mere dollar! That's right! You heard correctly- free umbrella for your duck, and a MULTITUDE of umbrella colors to chose from!" See, I think expanding their vocabulary is important. I am all about education. The teachers can thank me for that later. I might have even used the word "myriad" of colors later on as the sales slowed. I had ten minutes from the time I set my personal sales goal. And you know what? I sold six or seven. I can't wait for the Christmas shop to come back again this year. I will move more cheap mugs than Santa gives out candy canes this year! PS I heard through the grapevine that the new shipment arrived, and I can't wait for next Friday!
The blog in which we finish the book. This blog for Rachel
Rachel was so upset that I didn't finish the book yet, and said she is never reading the blog again. So, I decided that losing even one reader was more than I could handle, so we HAD to finish the most depressing book in the world. We needed a few days break before we had enough courage and strength to get through the book, but last night, we did it. The ending redeemed itself, but I swear, if there happens to be a sequel, we are not interested in it.
So, before bedtime, we gathered 'round the king bed, and snuggled up to finish the book, "Lassie Come-Home." When we last left off, Joe had to gruffly tell Lassie to stay with the Duke, and that they didn't want her home. However, Lassie read through the emotion, and felt the sadness and confusion in Joe's voice, even though his face told her a different emotion. Let me give you the Cliff Note version from here on... Lassie gets taken to Scotland, which took days by train. It was long and hard on the animals back in the day. Of course it was. We have come to expect that from this book. Then, while there, she is mistreated by the same Bozo that was charged with keeping her groomed and fed. Priscilla, the granddaughter, helps to let Lassie escape, and the tortured life doesn't stop there. She must find her way home, and that is a YEAR of agony= two final sections of our book= more "watery" eyes.
Lassie was hungry, cold, tired, her fur matted so badly that she was hardly recognizable as a collie. In her front paw, within a hundred miles, and a mere 8 weeks into her long journey, a thorn dug deep, and eventually, that will cause infection. Wait for it. Her internal compass set for south, she struggled to find the direction needed to get through the water that separates Scotland from England. Finally, she went into the water, and gets swallowed into a current. Then, she has a group of five boys who see her near lifeless body, and they begin to through rocks at her. Nice. No freakin' manners.
"The current finally drove her to a calm spot. With the last strength in her body, she paddled to shore. Water charged up from her stomach and lungs." Wow. Lucky she made it. "She dragged herself shivering beneath an old rusted furnace to let the fever course through her." Naturally. Rusted. The author is all negative about everything. "The thorn took a week to work out of the pad of Lassie's forepaw. The infection gone, the fever broke, she struggled to her feet and went on, light-headed with hunger." Lest we not forget hunger. I was ready to run downstairs and feed Brody a Milk Bone and check his paws. You just never can be too sure.
Next, Lassie wanders into a village, and is caught in a dog catchers' net and beaten. Right. Because that is what you do to a dog that is just wandering in the street- beat them. Not so much. He escapes, and in the escape, a twenty foot jump to the cobblestone below, she separates one of her shoulders, and yelps in pain as she limps away.
She tries to carry on, but sleep did not heal the shoulder or ease the sickness that had settled in her chest. Jeez. Bitch can't catch a break! She blacked out as she was crossing a river, and was carried to the other side and then, without knowing it, she was back in England. Her cries, "soft as a kitten," went unnoticed by anyone, as she was out in the wilderness, alone, hurting, starving, and yearning to be back in the arms of her boy and his family. Okay, that is not in the book, but anything in quotes is totally in the book. I am just taking liberties and stating the obvious. I don't want you to miss a nuance of this book. (I love you Rachel. Enough that I will relive this heinous book again for you.)
An elderly couple find her, near death, and nurse her back to health. They even rename her. They had no money, and very little food, and literally give her half of everything they had to eat. Each day, at four o'clock, the wife notices how agitated Lassie becomes, and one day, decides to let her go on with her journey. Lassie pauses at the door, and glances back for permission. The wife send her off with a prayer.
During the next leg of the journey, she again goes hungry, gets into a horrific fight with a farmer's dog, and loses a lot of blood. Holy hell. About four pages ago I handed the book to Geoff. By this point, I thought I caught him looking at me like, "What the hell are we reading to our kids?" He read to the end but admitted that there were times that he struggled. I should have asked Shayna to pass the tissues his direction. Lassie recovers from the dog fight by staying in a kind families' barn, and they cover her with horse blankets and fed her scraps of food.
Time for more torture. I mean, to move on. It is cold. The harsh weather has caused the ice to stick to her fur and in between her paws, and now, she is numb. Well, she finally made it and fell into the school yard, and lay there, until Joe came out and saw her. All she could do was thump her tail in excitement. Joe carried her home, and when he swung the house door open, Joe's father cried. They nursed her to health, and the next page is Priscilla standing beside her grandfather, the Duke, and seeing Joe and his beloved Lassie running in the meadow below the window they are at. The Duke has to explain that he had to hire on the family in order to get Lassie back, and that is how they came to have their happy ending. Basically, the father become a slave for the Duke in order to keep Lassie and his boy together. But it isn't worded exactly like that.
Geoff finished the story, and sort of speechless, says, "Well, that was...." and Charlie pipes in with, "VERY sad." Shay agreed, and we all wiped our eyes and began our nightly prayers. Brody had so many prayers last night that I think he was confused why we were all using his name ;o)
Rachel-- I hope you liked it!
So, before bedtime, we gathered 'round the king bed, and snuggled up to finish the book, "Lassie Come-Home." When we last left off, Joe had to gruffly tell Lassie to stay with the Duke, and that they didn't want her home. However, Lassie read through the emotion, and felt the sadness and confusion in Joe's voice, even though his face told her a different emotion. Let me give you the Cliff Note version from here on... Lassie gets taken to Scotland, which took days by train. It was long and hard on the animals back in the day. Of course it was. We have come to expect that from this book. Then, while there, she is mistreated by the same Bozo that was charged with keeping her groomed and fed. Priscilla, the granddaughter, helps to let Lassie escape, and the tortured life doesn't stop there. She must find her way home, and that is a YEAR of agony= two final sections of our book= more "watery" eyes.
Lassie was hungry, cold, tired, her fur matted so badly that she was hardly recognizable as a collie. In her front paw, within a hundred miles, and a mere 8 weeks into her long journey, a thorn dug deep, and eventually, that will cause infection. Wait for it. Her internal compass set for south, she struggled to find the direction needed to get through the water that separates Scotland from England. Finally, she went into the water, and gets swallowed into a current. Then, she has a group of five boys who see her near lifeless body, and they begin to through rocks at her. Nice. No freakin' manners.
"The current finally drove her to a calm spot. With the last strength in her body, she paddled to shore. Water charged up from her stomach and lungs." Wow. Lucky she made it. "She dragged herself shivering beneath an old rusted furnace to let the fever course through her." Naturally. Rusted. The author is all negative about everything. "The thorn took a week to work out of the pad of Lassie's forepaw. The infection gone, the fever broke, she struggled to her feet and went on, light-headed with hunger." Lest we not forget hunger. I was ready to run downstairs and feed Brody a Milk Bone and check his paws. You just never can be too sure.
Next, Lassie wanders into a village, and is caught in a dog catchers' net and beaten. Right. Because that is what you do to a dog that is just wandering in the street- beat them. Not so much. He escapes, and in the escape, a twenty foot jump to the cobblestone below, she separates one of her shoulders, and yelps in pain as she limps away.
She tries to carry on, but sleep did not heal the shoulder or ease the sickness that had settled in her chest. Jeez. Bitch can't catch a break! She blacked out as she was crossing a river, and was carried to the other side and then, without knowing it, she was back in England. Her cries, "soft as a kitten," went unnoticed by anyone, as she was out in the wilderness, alone, hurting, starving, and yearning to be back in the arms of her boy and his family. Okay, that is not in the book, but anything in quotes is totally in the book. I am just taking liberties and stating the obvious. I don't want you to miss a nuance of this book. (I love you Rachel. Enough that I will relive this heinous book again for you.)
An elderly couple find her, near death, and nurse her back to health. They even rename her. They had no money, and very little food, and literally give her half of everything they had to eat. Each day, at four o'clock, the wife notices how agitated Lassie becomes, and one day, decides to let her go on with her journey. Lassie pauses at the door, and glances back for permission. The wife send her off with a prayer.
During the next leg of the journey, she again goes hungry, gets into a horrific fight with a farmer's dog, and loses a lot of blood. Holy hell. About four pages ago I handed the book to Geoff. By this point, I thought I caught him looking at me like, "What the hell are we reading to our kids?" He read to the end but admitted that there were times that he struggled. I should have asked Shayna to pass the tissues his direction. Lassie recovers from the dog fight by staying in a kind families' barn, and they cover her with horse blankets and fed her scraps of food.
Time for more torture. I mean, to move on. It is cold. The harsh weather has caused the ice to stick to her fur and in between her paws, and now, she is numb. Well, she finally made it and fell into the school yard, and lay there, until Joe came out and saw her. All she could do was thump her tail in excitement. Joe carried her home, and when he swung the house door open, Joe's father cried. They nursed her to health, and the next page is Priscilla standing beside her grandfather, the Duke, and seeing Joe and his beloved Lassie running in the meadow below the window they are at. The Duke has to explain that he had to hire on the family in order to get Lassie back, and that is how they came to have their happy ending. Basically, the father become a slave for the Duke in order to keep Lassie and his boy together. But it isn't worded exactly like that.
Rachel-- I hope you liked it!
Oct 2, 2012
The blog in which I share another children's book. Sorta.
I was volunteering in the school library the other day when I came across this gem. If you know us, you know we have become Collie obsessed since rescuing our Brody, last November. He truly fills a void that was hollowed after Tai passed, just over two years ago. We have come to appreciate the innate nurturing and protective ways that comes with the breed, as well as the gentle, loving, and playful side that Brody shares with us each moment of each day.
So, I was so excited to find this book, and I was so much more excited since the author, Rosemary Wells is the same writer that authored Charlie's weekly story that was sent home from his reading teacher. Rosemary Wells is a well known author for her Max and Ruby stories. So, Charlie was even more excited that the same day he received that story in his book from class, he checked out this "Lassie Come-Home" book. Well, we sat down to read it last night. I knew it would be a couple of night's worth of reading, so we read a small book that they wanted to A.R. test on this morning, then began reading from the Lassie book.
Let me give you a synopsis here, page by page. Spoiler alert- Timmy is not stuck in a well. Oh how I wish he was. This is all sorts of messed up.
The story is set in England, in a small, and seemingly, impoverished town, many years ago. It was rewritten in 1995 by Rosemary Wells, yet it was adapted from a 1938 edition from Eric Knight.
Chapter one, page one- a brief description of Lassie, and how well loved she was by everyone. It seemed generic, and could have been applied to any dog, any year, of any breed. By the second paragraph, we learn that Lassie was sold by the father in the family for money because he lost his job in the mines, and she was worth more than three week's worth of wages. Way to sell out, Dad. Prick. Oh, sorry. That's not right. Let's move on. Joe leaves school and sees that his trustworthy companion, Lassie, is not at the corner of the school yard, and immediately panicked. He raced home and burst through the door asking what happened to his beloved, Lassie. His mother very straight faced told him that he was sold and that it was time for him to have his tea. WTH? Really? The only ray of light in your world is gone- let's have some tea. Wow. I don't have a degree of any sort, but I have to think that the long term effect of this sort of treatment has got to be detrimental. Well, we know that tea does stain teeth, but I'm sure they had to know this back in the 1930's, right? And let's not gloss over the fact that his beloved family pet has been sold while he went off to school. Out of the corner of my eyes, I catch a glimpse of Shay wiping her eyes under her glasses.
Page two- Joe's father is sitting in a chair, facing the fireplace, unable to explain his actions. He hears the anguish in his son's young voice over the news, and storms out of the house, knocking the chair over in the hurried movement. Great. No sense of responsibility or anger management. Nice. I really don't think I like this man. Then, his mother urges him to eat. I wonder if there were Jewish mothers in that little village in the 1930's.
Page 3- The mere mention of Lassie's unused brush sitting there on the fireplace caused my breathe to "hitch" as I read, and I begin to hear Shay sucking up snot that must be beginning to form. (I remember that moment like it was yesterday when I saw the unused dog brush. Oh, wait. It was yesterday. I was too busy volunteering at school and doing homework with the migits to brush Brody's fur. Never mind.) This page talks about the poverty that is rampant in the village, and how prevalent the dire situations were in these times. Then, it goes on to say that as hard and long as Joe's father would work in the mines each day, it was him, the same bastard that sold him, that would take the time to brush his Lassie out each night. I must say, I am warming to this man covered in coal. Brushing out a Collie is time consuming and delicate work. When I look to Shay, she murmurs something about how she doesn't know why, but her eyes are watering.
Page 4- Talks about how all the men in the village were chronically ill from the coal dust they inhaled. And yet, they all smoke a pipe. Might as well. None of them can breathe right from all the coal they inhale. Yes, I have a cut. Please give me a knife so that I can make it bleed more. That makes sense, right?
Page 5- This page explains and shows how the children of that time were not allowed to show emotion, and cried quietly, if at all, alone. (Shay, at this time, sees the picture of Lassie in a cage, forlorn, and alone. And again, I see her wiping her eyes.) Damn it. I tried to emphasize the part about how those kids kept all their emotion inside. It's not even her dog. Why the hell does she have to get all upset? Then, it goes on to tell how Lassie was "Joe's bright light in a strict grey world." "Lassie was Joe's laughter before he would have to grow up and follow his father into the pit." Okay, here's where I am confused. Why bother? I mean, why get a formal education if all you plan on doing was going to the same mining business that your father, grandfather, and all the men before you were born into? If he hadn't gone to school, maybe he would have been there to prevent the sale of his dog. Just sayin'.
Lassie was only three miles away, and had been sold to the Duke. The Duke was an ass. You'll see. Trust me. Lassie was in a kennel with thirty other dogs, and "her spirits heavy, she lay still all night." I don't have heavy spirits, but I lay still all night too. Damn. I wonder if I have "heavy spirits?" That would be horrible. Here I am thinking I am doing great, and then, bam! I've been undiagnosed with "heavy spirits." That would suck.
Page 6- We are introduced to the Duke again as he and his granddaughter go horseback riding into the village and stop for tea and a scone. WTH is a scone? Oh wait. You mean a biscuit? Why do you have to make up some fancy words just to say that? The Brit's and their "proper" English... Priscilla notices the men all standing around waiting for the slightest job to be posted, and asks her Grandfather, the Duke, about it. He seems to not notice the poor conditions, or the men, as he stains his teeth and enjoys some fancy bread. This page didn't seem to illicit much emotion from the girl migit. The boy migit is stoic. OR autistic. Oh, wait a second... right. About that.
Page 7- The granddaughter comments on how the new collie, Lassie, doesn't look happy. And of course, the Duke said he had noticed that, as he notices things that effect him. Like, Lassie not being happy will not produce a win at the shows for him. And yes, of course that is what the Duke bought her for. The granddaughter saved some of the scone for Lassie, but when Priscilla went to give it to her, she was gone.
Page 8- Oh, this is a wonderful page. Lassie has managed to dig out of the kennels and when Joe is let out of school on this day, Lassie is sitting right there waiting for him! They ran home together in sheer bliss, and then...
Page 9- Mother and Father burst his bubble, and neither welcomed Lassie home with a warm greeting. The Duke barged into the house like he owned it, and suggested that they had trained the dog to escape and they probably planned on reselling her before the hour was up. The father put the leash on the dog and walked him out to the Duke.
The next few pages are more of the same, and finally, I had to stop- before the chapter even ended. The last time Lassie ran away from the Duke, Joe's mother tells Joe that HE must be the one to tell Lassie she has to stay, and he must be strong, for Lassie. Joe tells Lassie, "Stay, girl. Never, never come back to us. We don't want you home anymore." That's it! Shay was done. She couldn't handle the book giving her "watery eyes." I looked at her and she gave me the biggest hug. She was so sad. I just about shed a tear too, but I decided to close the book, and suggested, even though it was late, that we, as a family, go have a little Mario Kart tournament.
Yeah. That's how we roll. We have 26 pages to go, and that amounts to about 17 tissues, and probably, three more nights of Mario Kart tourney's. I better start learning to blink. My contact popped out while I was playing last night. I should have Shay read me the book as I play. That might solve my dry eye issue ;o)
So, I was so excited to find this book, and I was so much more excited since the author, Rosemary Wells is the same writer that authored Charlie's weekly story that was sent home from his reading teacher. Rosemary Wells is a well known author for her Max and Ruby stories. So, Charlie was even more excited that the same day he received that story in his book from class, he checked out this "Lassie Come-Home" book. Well, we sat down to read it last night. I knew it would be a couple of night's worth of reading, so we read a small book that they wanted to A.R. test on this morning, then began reading from the Lassie book.
Let me give you a synopsis here, page by page. Spoiler alert- Timmy is not stuck in a well. Oh how I wish he was. This is all sorts of messed up.
The story is set in England, in a small, and seemingly, impoverished town, many years ago. It was rewritten in 1995 by Rosemary Wells, yet it was adapted from a 1938 edition from Eric Knight.
 |
| Freakin' A! Where's my dog? She couldn't have been run over. Cars haven't been invented yet. |
 |
| Anger Management- it starts with a chair. |
Page 4- Talks about how all the men in the village were chronically ill from the coal dust they inhaled. And yet, they all smoke a pipe. Might as well. None of them can breathe right from all the coal they inhale. Yes, I have a cut. Please give me a knife so that I can make it bleed more. That makes sense, right?
Page 5- This page explains and shows how the children of that time were not allowed to show emotion, and cried quietly, if at all, alone. (Shay, at this time, sees the picture of Lassie in a cage, forlorn, and alone. And again, I see her wiping her eyes.) Damn it. I tried to emphasize the part about how those kids kept all their emotion inside. It's not even her dog. Why the hell does she have to get all upset? Then, it goes on to tell how Lassie was "Joe's bright light in a strict grey world." "Lassie was Joe's laughter before he would have to grow up and follow his father into the pit." Okay, here's where I am confused. Why bother? I mean, why get a formal education if all you plan on doing was going to the same mining business that your father, grandfather, and all the men before you were born into? If he hadn't gone to school, maybe he would have been there to prevent the sale of his dog. Just sayin'.
Lassie was only three miles away, and had been sold to the Duke. The Duke was an ass. You'll see. Trust me. Lassie was in a kennel with thirty other dogs, and "her spirits heavy, she lay still all night." I don't have heavy spirits, but I lay still all night too. Damn. I wonder if I have "heavy spirits?" That would be horrible. Here I am thinking I am doing great, and then, bam! I've been undiagnosed with "heavy spirits." That would suck.
 |
| This is what "heavy spirits" looks like. I thought that meant vodka. I thought wrong. |
Page 6- We are introduced to the Duke again as he and his granddaughter go horseback riding into the village and stop for tea and a scone. WTH is a scone? Oh wait. You mean a biscuit? Why do you have to make up some fancy words just to say that? The Brit's and their "proper" English... Priscilla notices the men all standing around waiting for the slightest job to be posted, and asks her Grandfather, the Duke, about it. He seems to not notice the poor conditions, or the men, as he stains his teeth and enjoys some fancy bread. This page didn't seem to illicit much emotion from the girl migit. The boy migit is stoic. OR autistic. Oh, wait a second... right. About that. Page 7- The granddaughter comments on how the new collie, Lassie, doesn't look happy. And of course, the Duke said he had noticed that, as he notices things that effect him. Like, Lassie not being happy will not produce a win at the shows for him. And yes, of course that is what the Duke bought her for. The granddaughter saved some of the scone for Lassie, but when Priscilla went to give it to her, she was gone.
Page 8- Oh, this is a wonderful page. Lassie has managed to dig out of the kennels and when Joe is let out of school on this day, Lassie is sitting right there waiting for him! They ran home together in sheer bliss, and then...
Page 9- Mother and Father burst his bubble, and neither welcomed Lassie home with a warm greeting. The Duke barged into the house like he owned it, and suggested that they had trained the dog to escape and they probably planned on reselling her before the hour was up. The father put the leash on the dog and walked him out to the Duke.
 |
| If I wrote the book, I would have ended the book where they are reunited. But I didn't write this book. All I get is a rinky-dink blog. And now all you get is a sad story about a dog and a little girl who gets "watery eyes" from the sad dog story. |
Yeah. That's how we roll. We have 26 pages to go, and that amounts to about 17 tissues, and probably, three more nights of Mario Kart tourney's. I better start learning to blink. My contact popped out while I was playing last night. I should have Shay read me the book as I play. That might solve my dry eye issue ;o)
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