In the 1850's, there was a certain number of people that had to live in a place (they were called Territories) for it to become a state. Then they had to decide if the state was going to be a free state, or a slave state.
Now, California was full of people, mines for them to work in, and towns. These were hardworking people, so when the word came that the Californians wanted to be made into a state, there were no arguements about whether or not it would be made into a slave state. But now there were 31 states, and 31 doesn't divide evenly, so the slave states got up in arms about it. Do you remember Henry Clay? He suggesetted the Missiouri Comprimise. So he, now an old man, Suggestted another comprimise. I don't remember how, what it was called, but I do know that this was Henry Clay's last political act.
THE END
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Another Written Narration
Here is another of Mariel's recent narrations. I asked her to give me a complete retelling, including the main ideas and some details. (I have noticed that she gives me a complete retelling of the beginning of a section, and then peters out before providing the end of an episode. The reading that goes with this narration was three pages long, and she chose to read the entire three pages before beginning her writing.) It took her over forty-five minutes to handwrite her retelling. I'm leaving her spelling, etc., intact:
Monday, March 02, 2009
A Reader
Triss’ acting class is next door to a used bookstore. I had to bring her sisters tonight, and we spent the hour looking at books. I headed straight to the educational things as if compelled, thinking, “Do you *really* want to look at shelves that remind you of things you are not doing? Why not find something enjoyable to read instead?” As I struggled to walk away, Cornflower approached me with a Borrowers book.
“Can we get this?” She asked. “It’s only fifty cents.”
It was a thick book, thicker than she normally likes. She’s just eight, and does enjoy chapter books, but only slim chapter books. I looked into her face and was surprised to see her eagerness.
She is the kind of girl that enjoys clothes and hairdos and nail polish. She had had the same look on her face last night while begging me to give her an old container of eye shadow. I didn’t really think of her as a big reader, although she does enjoy books. She is more of a dolly and dress-up and active kind of girl. Recently, she had asked me several times to pick out some of our own books that would be good reads for her, and I had rejoiced to see her interest.
But I didn’t realize she had developed taste. Usually when we go to bookstores I spend the time telling her, “No, we are not buying a Dora the Explorer/Disney/Scooby Doo book,” or else trying to ignore her choices as she pulls ‘marketing ploy’ books off the shelf to read while in the store. Rather impressed, I said, “Sure, we can get this book!”
She handed it to me and walked off.
Turning from the educational section to the section on writing, I found a book I had wanted for two years, and sat down to enjoy it. It started out every bit as good as I had thought it would be. About halfway through the first chapter, Cornflower approached again.
“Mom, look what I found!”
She had a couple of other books. One was a reprint of an old book about a doll, the most wonderful doll in the world, it said. It looked promising. The other was a retelling of Gulliver’s Travels. It was abridged, but hey! she was recognizing classics. They were fifty cents apiece. Quality *and* thrift! Gotta love it.
“Where are you finding these?” I asked.
She led me to the clearance cart. I began going through one side, she went to the other, and in a moment, handed me a book through the cart. “Look at this one, Mom!” It was an abridgement of Heidi.
“It’s abridged, honey, but that is such a nice picture on the cover.”
“Here, Mom. Look at this one.” It was a retelling of Sherlock Holmes mysteries. “And look!” A thin Scholastic of one of the Orphan Train books.
I was finding a lot of junk on my side. I went to hers. It was full of junk, too. She was culling through the twaddle to pull out more acceptable titles. Eight years old.
She found a book by Astrid Lindgren and another little Scholastic book that looked pretty good for an easier chapter book. “Can we get all these?”
Well… I didn’t really want to spend the money, but look at the girl, full of hope and desire for good things. “Sure!”
We carried our finds to a couple of library stepstools and sat down. “Mom—can I get you a basket?” she asked. “Please, please, please!” she added under her breath.
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. “Yes. A basket is just what I need. How thoughtful.”
She proudly went off to procure that Shopper’s Badge. She is such a girl.
When she came back, she sat down and laid her head on my shoulder. I read my excellent book, she read hers, and I realized it doesn’t get much better than this.
(Note: I asked the cashier if he had heard about CPSIA and he said, yes, that they had removed all the pre-1985 childrens books and were storing them in a central warehouse-- the bookstore is part of a chain-- until someone figures out what to do with them. He said that he expects they will have a huge sale on pre-1985 childrens' books eventually-- after the law gets fixed, he said. I didn't think to ask if they were accepting pre-1985 books, but they probably are not. A couple of the books Cornflower picked out were copyrighted previous to 1985, but I don't know how to tell what year a book was printed, so I don't know if we might have gotten some that slipped through the cracks. I would look them over more closely, but she is very attached to her books and has taken them all to bed with her.)
(Updated to add this link to a blog written by a Half-Price Books employee who had to personally pull all suspect books from her store's shelves a few weeks ago. Half-Price Books is the store referred to in my story above.)
“Can we get this?” She asked. “It’s only fifty cents.”
It was a thick book, thicker than she normally likes. She’s just eight, and does enjoy chapter books, but only slim chapter books. I looked into her face and was surprised to see her eagerness.
She is the kind of girl that enjoys clothes and hairdos and nail polish. She had had the same look on her face last night while begging me to give her an old container of eye shadow. I didn’t really think of her as a big reader, although she does enjoy books. She is more of a dolly and dress-up and active kind of girl. Recently, she had asked me several times to pick out some of our own books that would be good reads for her, and I had rejoiced to see her interest.
But I didn’t realize she had developed taste. Usually when we go to bookstores I spend the time telling her, “No, we are not buying a Dora the Explorer/Disney/Scooby Doo book,” or else trying to ignore her choices as she pulls ‘marketing ploy’ books off the shelf to read while in the store. Rather impressed, I said, “Sure, we can get this book!”
She handed it to me and walked off.
Turning from the educational section to the section on writing, I found a book I had wanted for two years, and sat down to enjoy it. It started out every bit as good as I had thought it would be. About halfway through the first chapter, Cornflower approached again.
“Mom, look what I found!”
She had a couple of other books. One was a reprint of an old book about a doll, the most wonderful doll in the world, it said. It looked promising. The other was a retelling of Gulliver’s Travels. It was abridged, but hey! she was recognizing classics. They were fifty cents apiece. Quality *and* thrift! Gotta love it.
“Where are you finding these?” I asked.
She led me to the clearance cart. I began going through one side, she went to the other, and in a moment, handed me a book through the cart. “Look at this one, Mom!” It was an abridgement of Heidi.
“It’s abridged, honey, but that is such a nice picture on the cover.”
“Here, Mom. Look at this one.” It was a retelling of Sherlock Holmes mysteries. “And look!” A thin Scholastic of one of the Orphan Train books.
I was finding a lot of junk on my side. I went to hers. It was full of junk, too. She was culling through the twaddle to pull out more acceptable titles. Eight years old.
She found a book by Astrid Lindgren and another little Scholastic book that looked pretty good for an easier chapter book. “Can we get all these?”
Well… I didn’t really want to spend the money, but look at the girl, full of hope and desire for good things. “Sure!”
We carried our finds to a couple of library stepstools and sat down. “Mom—can I get you a basket?” she asked. “Please, please, please!” she added under her breath.
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. “Yes. A basket is just what I need. How thoughtful.”
She proudly went off to procure that Shopper’s Badge. She is such a girl.
When she came back, she sat down and laid her head on my shoulder. I read my excellent book, she read hers, and I realized it doesn’t get much better than this.
(Note: I asked the cashier if he had heard about CPSIA and he said, yes, that they had removed all the pre-1985 childrens books and were storing them in a central warehouse-- the bookstore is part of a chain-- until someone figures out what to do with them. He said that he expects they will have a huge sale on pre-1985 childrens' books eventually-- after the law gets fixed, he said. I didn't think to ask if they were accepting pre-1985 books, but they probably are not. A couple of the books Cornflower picked out were copyrighted previous to 1985, but I don't know how to tell what year a book was printed, so I don't know if we might have gotten some that slipped through the cracks. I would look them over more closely, but she is very attached to her books and has taken them all to bed with her.)
(Updated to add this link to a blog written by a Half-Price Books employee who had to personally pull all suspect books from her store's shelves a few weeks ago. Half-Price Books is the store referred to in my story above.)
Sunday, March 01, 2009
He Loves Us as His Eyes
A written narration by Mariel on an episode in the biography of Lilias Trotter (everything was spelled correctly! I am leaving in her punctuation, etc., this time.):
I think my favorite part is when L.T. came across a woman who was tightly hugging a little girl. L.T. stopped + said "You love that little girl." "Yes," she said, "She is as my eyes." L.T. said, "God loves us that way too." She passed on, but she heard a boy tell another, "God loves me like His Eyes! Hooray!"
I say hooray too.
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