We finished up Brazil today. We drew up maps, flags, timelines, and fun facts to put into our notebook. And I think I am going to shelve geography for the rest of this year. Spring is a great time for science projects. Everything is growing, and it is warm. I think we are going to spend a bigger chunk of every Friday on science for the next 4 weeks. See what we can grow, and discover. We did leaf and bark rubbings today. It is an easy "hands on" project, that turns out very cool. Everyone can do their own, in their own colors. And that is a win-in situation. We also Herbert Hoover and FDR to our presidential timeline. Poor Herbert gets a bad rap, but he seems like a decent guy to me. Its too bad the economy tanked when he was president, and it never turned around. But he is the longest living retired president-maybe to be surpassed by Carter this September. FDR was FDR-liberal and loved. He is considered the second or third best president. "The only we have to fear is fear itself." Not exactly true, but impressive nonetheless.
I have cinnamon rolls rising. It has been while since I've made a batch. They are too much of a temptation-especially oven fresh and warm, and dripping with cream cheese frosting. They should be ready before 5:00.=)
Its amazing what runs through my mind at times. Today the lyrics to "I saw Mama kissing Santa Claus" were stuck on a repetitive cycle. Elsie heard me singing it. (E)"You kissed Santa Claus?" (me) "No, its my mom, grandma.=) She kissed Santa Claus."(e) "Grandma kissed Santa Claus? Really?" (me) "Yup!" (E) "So, Santa Claus is real?" Sigh.=) What tangled webs we weave...=)
Here is some beautiful poetry to start your weekend with. I am growing to love poems. You have to think and mentally picture the image the poet is describing. I find it work, but definitely worth the effort when you have wrapped your mind around it. These are both by Christina Rossetti. Ms. Rossetti is considered one of the best women poets of the 19th century.
Spring Quiet
Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing;
Where in the whitethorn
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.
Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:
Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
"We spread no snare;
"Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.
"Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be."
Spring
Frost-locked all the winter,
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots?
Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath,
Life nursed in its grave by Death.
Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
Swollen with sap put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;
Birds sing and pair again.
There is no time like Spring,
When life's alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track -
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack, -
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour.
There is no time like Spring,
Like Spring that passes by;
There is no life like Spring-life born to die, -
Piercing the sod,
Clothing the uncouth clod,
Hatched in the nest,
Fledged on the windy bough,
Strong on the wing:
There is no time like Spring that passes by,
Now newly born, and now
Hastening to die.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Come tomorrow, you may want to revisit these poems, when it will feel more like winter that spring.=)