Love, Laughter, and Life

Adventures With a Book Lover


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Visual Learner? That’s Me

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It has recently come to my attention that I have strong tendencies towards being a visual learner. I think visually and that impacts the things I do and how I do them.

Take for instance, my desire to learn French. This is what initially made me consider my bent towards visual learning. I love the French language. I adore seeing text – signs, words, symbols, and books in French. But hearing is a part of language learning, and I realized I can’t really hear what is being said and understand the different words. I kept thinking to myself If only I could SEE the words, I’d be able to comprehend what was being said.

Visual learner, yes I am.

Another example that points towards my tendency to acquire knowledge through visual means or to impart something visually is the way I plan for teaching. In my classroom, my displays – bulletin boards, posters, learning centers, student work, general decor – are of the utmost importance. I can’t rest until the room is visually arranged and attractive.

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Some other habits I’ve noticed:

~ In the teaching plans I write, I nearly always include suggestions for visual impact – displays, table decor, posters, signs, and room arrangement. Rarely do I include hearing-only activities. Good thing to notice right? Now I can make sure to suggest activities that lean towards the hearing and doing types of learning.

~ Photographs. I love taking photos of everything thing I do and every place I go. These photos become a visual diary of my pursuits.

~ Instagram. I love this app! Pictures and text inform and delight my visual brain.

~Pinterest. Same reason. Pictures and visual clues. I don’t often read the original post or seek out the origins of the image. I glean by reading the pictures, and my imagination goes from there.

~ Reading. I LOVE reading, and reading requires visual skills. I’d be happy if I could live in front of a fireplace sipping hot cocoa and reading a great book while snow piled up against the eaves.

The visual learning list goes on.

Do you think you are a visual learner? Check out this post I found that lists 10 Characteristics of Visual Learners here. I’d say I nailed it!

Of the learning styles, which are you? Visual, auditory, kinesthetic? I’d love to hear. I mean, see your name and comment in print. Wink, wink.

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Hoping for spring flowers. But first, the snow must melt.


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Coffee Like Papa

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As I was recently pouring cream into my coffee, adding just enough until the creamy clouds billowed up to the top breaking the surface of enticing black, I remembered my Papa. He liked his coffee the same way, at least when I was serving. I realized that I had adopted the same habit and method of adding cream to my coffee.

“Just pour it in until it swirls back up,” he told me. For the coffee was always hot or brewing at Grandma and Papa’s, usually available with some choice of sweet dessert. And evaporated milk, punctured open and sitting beside the sugar bowl, was ever at the ready.

Now my personal choice is half and half. But back then, that little red and white can was perfectly fine. Because we were sipping our brew together and catching up on the news of the day.

Cone on over and we’ll have coffee. Just like Papa.

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Throwback Thursday: Old Words

Note: I originally posted this long, long ago on February 24, 2016. Hah! I know. It was only last year. But I do so love old books, newspapers, and things, I deemed it worth bringing into the future. And now I remember how much I miss my claw foot bathtub.

 I was preparing to take a relaxing bubble bath in my claw foot tub last night when I saw a wadded up log of newspaper on the floor.

 

The paper log was actually old newspaper. Old 1949 newspaper.

 

It was super dusty and fragile, so I didn’t undo it, but went ahead and enjoyed my bath, contemplating the sudden arrival of newspaper in the bedroom.

 

This morning, long after honey had gone to work, I noticed the newspaper had been carefully unrolled and somewhat flattened.

 

That was when I saw the date on the antique (or is it vintage?) Seattle Times. Sunday, March 27, 1949. Fascinating.

 

I do love looking at old newspapers, especially the ads. Odd, I realize, but the price comparisons between then and now are amusing and sad. The articles in this bundle also told tales of the times – fashions, comics, businesses, and even child rearing and feeding advice.

 

This was no ordinary newspaper. It was mystery newspaper that had been recycled to provide padding for an old wood and woven jute chair. We didn’t even know it was stuffed. Look at how creative folks were at repurposing way back before the word was even in use.

 

Now we know more about the chair (it is older than both of us) and the news of the day from several decades ago.

 

Words are valuable. No matter how old or in what format they are discovered.

 

What are some words that are valuable to you?

 


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A Valentiny Story for You: Jello Did Not Like Valentine’s Day

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Jello did not like Valentine’s Day.

True, the holiday was fine. For everyone else. But for Jello? No one ever remembered to deliver a valentine specific to his – ahem – tastes.

“Jello,” shouted Hatchback. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Strawberries, a favorite of turtles. Disappointing. Putting on a smile, Jello croaked, “Thank you.”

“Hey, mellow Jello,” squawked Licorice. “Will you be my valentine?”

Corn, a crow’s go-to meal. No surprise. Jello belted out, “Thank you.”

“Ssssay, Jello, old buddy,” called Slinky. “Rosessss are red, berriessss are blue. You are my friend. Here, jusssst for you.”

Speckled eggs. Eww, shells. Pasting a pleased look on his face, Jello gulped, “Thank you.”

“Hi-de-ho, Jello,” chortled Twitch. “My heart belongs to you.”

Dandelions, and I’ve no rabbity teeth for gnawing. Jello grunted, “Thank you.”

“Sweet as honey, Jello,” roared Buzz. “BEE my valentine!”

Sticky honey. Ugh. It glued Jello’s mouth shut. Jello bellowed, “Thank you.”

 

No one indulged Jello with his favorite treat. Valentine’s Day was a bust.

 

“Jello-pie,” croaked Jiggle. “True love of mine, you’ve wiggled into my heart!”

Jello gasped! A valentine, just for him! Pink tasty worms. Perfect for his – ahem – tastes. Beaming, Jello barked, “Thank you!”

Maybe Valentine’s Day was not so bad after all. Jello shared his valentine treats with his friends.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

Written by Angie Quantrell (214 words)

 

The Second Annual Valentiny Writing Contest: by Susanna Leonard Hill

The Contest:  since writing for children is all about “big emotion for little people” (I forget who said that, but someone did so I put it in quotes!) and Valentines Day is all about emotion, write a Valentines story appropriate for children (children here defined as ages 12 and under) maximum 214 words in which someone is confused!  Your story can be poetry or prose, sweet, funny, surprising or anything in between, but it will only count for the contest if it includes someone confused (can be the main character but doesn’t have to be) and is 214 words (get it? 2/14 for Valentines Day 🙂  You can go under the word count but not over! (Title is not included in the word count.)  If you are so inclined, you are welcome to submit more than one entry – just remember you’ll be competing against yourself 🙂  No illustration notes please!


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Snow Cream

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Today is it, folks. At least for the Yakima Valley. Maybe.

Time to get out there and grab a bowl full of clean fresh snow before the rains hit tomorrow. Let’s make snow cream!

Snow Cream

  1. Fill a cereal bowl with clean snow. If you are doing this with kids, give them each a bowl to fill.
  2. To each bowl add about: 1/2 tsp. vanilla, 1/2 tsp. sugar, and enough 1/2 & 1/2 or milk to desired consistency. Mix with a spoon. This is very light sugar, as I don’t care for syrupy sweet stuff, but you can add more sugar if you want. This would also be great with fresh fruit.
  3. Eat, enjoy, repeat.

My mom used to make snow cream for us when I was a kid. I think she used to add eggs. But I’m not a big fan of raw eggs, and I was a kid. I could be way off base. Either way, no eggs.

Brain freeze!

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A Photo Becomes A Painting

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A photo tells a story.

At the end of a recent vacation, I shot a selfie of the two of us, relaxed and replete after several days of downtime and fun. This picture is one of my favorites.

Factor in one of Kevin’s co-workers, Kathy Bensch. She wanted to do a painting of us for Kevin’s office. Just because. We gave her a copy of our favorite photo.

Et voila! There we are, in living water color. Thank you, Kathy! Perfect!

Not that the painting will ever make it to Kevin’s office…I do have some ideas on how to share.

But I think this painting looks great in the RV.

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Storystorm Day 29: “Let’s Play Books!” by Kirsten Hess

by Kirsten Hess, Bookseller It has been wonderful to read the posts in Storystorm this month, to get a peek into the creative processes that go into the many wonderful books that we carry in our sh…

Source: Storystorm Day 29: “Let’s Play Books!” by Kirsten Hess

I love having books and play partnered together! Perfect match. Need to visit this bookstore!


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Writing Assistant

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Storystorm is coming to an end in a few days. I will miss the daily posts by others working in the field of picture books!

Along the way, I’ve learned, brainstormed, taken notes, and jotted down many ideas for future writing projects. Way to go, Tara Lazar and all of the presenters! You can visit Tara’s site and check it out here.

Another unexpected result from Storystorm came this morning. I have now hired a personal assistant. Welcome, Mabel!


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Throwback Thursday: Sunday Markets, I Miss You!

Summer farmer markets, oh how I look forward to you! Enjoy this throwback post from August 2009.

The fountain at Place Monge on Sunday Market day

Place Monge (Paris) fountain on Sunday Market day

In France, one of the things we truly enjoyed was the Sunday market held in the Place Monge town square. One could buy ANYTHING needed for eating, drinking, or giving. One Sunday we encountered a simultaneous flea market, but I could never figure out when another was going to be staged. I so wanted another chance at finding treasures!

On any given Sunday, there was no lack of choices for purchase at the market. Fresh fruit, vegetables, and flowers were squashed in among stalls of stinky cheese and fish, raw meat and poultry. Lucious homemade breads competed for the winning fragrance award with occasional ‘meals made for you right now.’ The entire experience was a delight for the senses. Taking home the goods – mouth-watering sustenance.

flowers on Sunday Market

Flowers at Sunday Market

Meat vendor at Place Monge

Meat vendor at Place Monge

vegetable vendor at Place Monge

Produce vendor at Place Monge

Market fare from Place Monge

A meal comprised of market fare from Place Monge

Many years ago, in the Yakima Valley, a Sunday farmer’s market was hatched. Of course, being at church  most of each Sunday, we did not frequent the market. In fact, we boycotted it simply because it should be held on Saturdays (our opinion) so market workers and go-ers could attend church on Sunday. Granted, I don’t believe our boycott gained any new members of a church anywhere…

With our recent life change of full Sunday church responsibilities to experiencing ‘house church’ at a local park on Sunday mornings, we decided we would check it out – to see what the rest of the valley does on Sunday mornings. It seems that many residents take pride and joy at what is locally available, fresh from the fields, and the hands of gardeners, farmers, and crafters.

Sunday Market in Yakima

Sunday Market in Yakima

Pleasantly surprised, we found a plethora of aromatic and tasty produce, fruit, home-produced crafts, and food items. Mixed in was a variety of ethnic food stalls (I love the panset and lumpia) and shoppers galore.

Checking out the goods

Checking out the goods

An added bonus was musical entertainment. Steel drum music was such a wonderful accompaniment to the outing.

My grandbaby hits the Sunday Market

My oldest grandbaby (now he is 7) hits the Sunday Market

We encountered people we knew, interacted with community members, and socialized under the hot sun. Purchasing fresh produce and showing off our grandson were top prizes for the day.

Hayden with Papa at the Yakima Sunday Market

Hayden with Papa at the Yakima Sunday Market

I guess the boycott was a misguided waste of time. The Master Gardener did not stick Himself in church and stay there all day on Sundays. He was out among the people, out in the community. Perhaps more productive to relationship building, making new friends, and reaching out is to be where the people are…not where we think they should be, but where they actually are.

A challenge to myself – where are the families in my community on any given Sunday morning? Maybe it’s time I found out…and made some new friends.


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Throwback Thursday: Shouldn’t Have . . .

Shouldn’t have eaten that last donut. No longer a size 7.5.

Sigh.

(Reblogged from 2010)

 

In honor of those pets we’ve loved and lost. Meet Annabelle, who was spending time with mommy and trying to nonchalantly fit inside her box. Miss you, my beautiful tuxedo cat fur baby.