Little Sister wasn’t the only one who choked up while reading E.B. White’s masterpiece. Mr. White had the same problem!

On reading aloud (cont.)

Wednesday’s Bulletin Board — under the headline “Have you read ‘Charlotte’s Web’? Yes? Proceed as usual. No? Skip ahead to ‘Clowning around’ — now!” — opened with a report from  Little Sister [SPOILER ALERT! Anyone who has not read “Charlotte’s Web” should skip to the next item now, read “Charlotte’s Web” ASAP, and then return to Little Sister‘s report]: “‘Where’s Papa going with that ax?’

Continue reading “Little Sister wasn’t the only one who choked up while reading E.B. White’s masterpiece. Mr. White had the same problem!”

Have you read “Charlotte’s Web”? Yes? Proceed as usual. No? Skip ahead to “Clowning around” — now!

On reading aloud (cont.)

Little Sister writes [SPOILER ALERT! Anyone who has not read “Charlotte’s Web” should skip to the next item now, read “Charlotte’s Web” ASAP, and then return to Little Sister‘s report]: “‘Where’s Papa going with that ax?’

“E.B. White sure knew what he was doing when he planted that first-line hook in ‘Charlotte’s Web.’

Continue reading “Have you read “Charlotte’s Web”? Yes? Proceed as usual. No? Skip ahead to “Clowning around” — now!”

The Reading Education Assistance Dog (R.E.A.D.) didn’t want to hear that story about the dying dog. . .

Our pets, ourselves
And: In memoriam — including: There’s a signpost up ahead…

Crazy Dog Lady: “The stories about reading to kids reminds me of my standard poodle, Ben, who was not only a certified therapy dog for many years, but also qualified to be a R.E.A.D. (Reading Education Assistance Dog). He spent many hours at a school and various libraries having kids read to him.

Continue reading “The Reading Education Assistance Dog (R.E.A.D.) didn’t want to hear that story about the dying dog. . .”

There was a fowl odor coming from the outhouse. Could that be . . . one of the partridge family?

Life as we know it
Outhouses and Port-a-Potties Division

Twitty of Como writes: “When I was about age 12, my parents bought a small, unfinished cabin on 28 acres of lakeshore. It was beautiful but had no well, electricity or lavatory facilities.

“When spring came, it became my job to dig a hole for the as-yet-unbuilt outhouse, which I did. The outhouse wasn’t intended for long-term use, so it was pretty much a spare wood frame wrapped with tarpaper — cold in winter and hot in summer.