Tuesday, 24 August 2010

Book Week

Television

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)

They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?

IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!

'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!

The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)

The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!

So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.

And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Poem by Roald Dahl
Illustration by Jessie Willcox Smith

This week is Book Week- the longest running children's festival in Australia, celebrating its 65th birthday in 2010.  There's a costume parade at school tomorrow.  Little Wanna wants to go as Amelia Bedelia and Charly as Molly Moon.  Both impossible costumes to devise with my limited skill and materials.  We do have Groucho Marx glasses and plenty of fairy outfits plus an auburn wig and Chinese pajamas.  Mmm ... I'm thinking the cast of Pink Panther or Scooby Doo. 

Monday, 16 August 2010

Snow at last!

Our first family experience of snow.  Day one, after hiring and buying the gear in a chaotic, typically disorganised fashion, saw us off to Smiggins Holes for ski lessons.  What a treat the children looked in their puffy outfits, helmets, goggles and mittens.  They took to it like naturals.  Up the Magic Carpet and snow ploughing down tentatively at first but rapidly growing in confidence.

We also had an opportunity to build snow men at Perisher in the midst of a small snow flurry with limited visibility.  This was one of the major conquests of the entire trip.  Skiing was anticipated with wide-eyed, innocent interest, but making a snowman - now that was huge!  Next time we must bring a carrot, a top hat, buttons and two pieces of coal.


Snow
by Walter de la Mare

No breath of wind,
No gleam of sun -
Still the white snow
Whirls softly down
Twig and bough
And blade and thorn
All in an icy
Quiet, forlorn.
Whispering, rustling,
Through the air
On still and stone,
Roof, - everywhere,
It heaps its powdery
Crystal flakes,
Of every tree
A mountain makes;
'Til pale and faint
At shut of day
Stoops from the West
One wint'ry ray,
And, feathered in fire
Where ghosts the moon,
A robin shrills
His lonely tune.

Saturday, 14 August 2010

Mia Creek Homestead


Last week, we ventured forth to the Snowy Mountains in New South Wales for our first-ever family skiing holiday.  We stayed on a terrific rural property with a loft apartment attached to the main homestead.  It was bliss.  Equidistant between all the main ski resorts of Perisher and Thredbo, and near the central town of Jindabyne.  Entirely private and self-contained - with an open fireplace. We got a dose of country air as well as a taste of the snow.

On our first night we went for an evening stroll accompanied by Skye the Golden Retriever who raced ahead and bounded into hollows after rabbits.  We patted the horses outside the Wild Brumby Distillery and book-marked that establishment as one worth returning to for some schnapps at a later stage. 

We let the Girl Guide practice her fire lighting skills and nestled down for the night in keen anticipation of our first day on the slopes.  It was hard to believe there was snow on them there 'ills as it was so dry down below.   But we were to have such fun in an abundance of the white stuff as I will reveal in subsequent posts.     

Friday, 13 August 2010

Somewhere... Over the Rainbow

Look what blogging led me to.  So entranced was I by the magnificent rainbow cake posted by Meredy that I had to give it a whirl for Charly's tenth birthday last weekend.  It was a challenge to say the least despite the detailed instructions.  There were tears.  Birthday cake making is my ritual torture.

First hurdle was to find the recommended gel colouring in this old town of limited shopping opportunity.  It required a lunchtime dash to a specialist kitchen store, and then, they didn't have the recomended Lemon Yellow.  Grrr.  Anyway, that weekend while everyone was out at soccer and I had unfettered run of the kitchen, I got out the Sunbeam hand beaters, the heart-shaped cake pans and the left-over liquid food colouring in the pantry and set to work.  

The trick is to fill the pan with the same amount of cake mixture.  Meredy did specify one and a half cups and, I confess to skimping on this detail (yep, never skimp the detail) and subsequently ended up with wonky layers.  The colours weren't the same shade either as I'd used half gel and half liquid colours (Meredy was right again). The cream cheese frosting slicked on beautifully but, alas, the children didn't entirely enjoy the taste.  So I will have to experiment with the butter icing or ganache frosting next time.  

Thankfully the overall effect was stupendous.  A miraculously high, heart shaped ensemble with ten little candles glowing in front of beaming faces.  Charly is having a Movie Party next weekend and I plan to do a modified four-layer version with equal layers and uniform colours.  

Meantime, the Strong, Silent One wryly notes that it would be far simpler to go to The Cheesecake Shop - a reliable, local purveyor of large and impressive cakes - rather than go through the self-flagellation a second time.

"There is one thing more exasperating than a wife who can cook and won't and that's a wife who can't cook and will." Robert Frost (1847-1963)

{this moment}


{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. SouleMama

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

Morning Mist

Mist

Low-anchored cloud,
Newfoundland air,
Fountain head and source of rivers,
Dew-cloth, dream drapery,
And napkin spread by fays;
Drifting meadow of the air,
Where bloom the daisied banks and violets,
And in whose fenny labyrinth
The bittern booms and heron wades;
Spirit of the lake and seas and rivers,
Bear only perfumes and the scent
Of healing herbs to just men's fields!

Henry David Thoreau

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

William Wordsworth

Well, no daffodils. (I wonder whatever happened to the pre-school fund raising bulbs we planted last year?  Buried never to be seen again.)  Anyway, this was the morning view as I wearily trudged out to make school lunches.   Part of my seasonal landscape series "Views from the back deck".  :-)

Ro-Ro took a few ornithological photographs of a frost-bitten rosella on the telegraph wires. No herons here either, but the birdlife in Canberra is quite spectacular just the same.  Pity that can't be said of the overhead wires.  Looks like a Melbourne tram crossing up there.

Learning Rummy-O


 
Childhood is the world of miracle or of magic: it is as if creation rose luminously out of the night, all new and fresh and astonishing. Childhood is over the moment things are no longer astonishing. When the world gives you a feeling of "déjà vu," when you are used to existence, you become an adult.

Eugene Ionesco, Present Past / Past Present


Charly taught Little Wanna how to play Rummy-O on the weekend.  It was delightful to see her thinking the rules through, deep in concentration, building confidence, trying a bit of cheating and hoarding the jokers.  It was also amusing to see Charly deploy her masterful strategies and relish her win.  Do we ever tire of board games and hot chocolate on a blustery Winter's day?