Around the world
kids dream of tomorrow
and all the possibilities
of just
one day
                                                     from One World, One Day
                                                    written by Barbara Kerley
                    most of the photographs were chosen by the author
                                           National Geographic Society, 2009

    Even though we say a day is 24 hours long, the real number is
23 hours and 56 minutes, (86,400 seconds). Smart people at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England, keep us all on track. They’re located at the Prime Meridian and everyone’s time is measured from there. It’s been that way since 1675 in England and 1883 in the United States.
     On November 1, 1884, GMT (Greenwich Mean Time) was adopted universally at the International Meridian Conference in Washington, DC. The International Date Line was drawn up at that conference and the 24 time zones were created. If you want to know more about all that, go here: https://greenwichmeantime.com/what-is-gmt/ 
    As we approach the Summer Solstice, we experience the most hours of daylight and the least amount of darkness. About 5,000 years ago, Ancients in what is now England began building Stonehenge to mark the solstice sunrise. It is believed that work was completed 1,500 years later! 
    Halfway around the world in the Egyptian desert, the sun sets exactly between twin pyramids at the end of each summer solstice. 
    This Thursday, when you look up you’ll see the sun at its highest point in the arc between sunrise and sunset. (If it’s a sunny day.) Wear sunglasses!
    The first day of Summer! 
    This week is also National Pollinator Week. Bees and butterflies and all kinds of bugs and other pollinators will have lots of daylight. They'll work hard so we have food. Here are some interesting facts about pollinators and pollination: pollinator.org/assets/generalFiles/Pollination-Fast-Facts-General-2018.pdf 

• About 75% of all flowering plant species need the help of animals to move their heavy pollen grains from plant to plant for fertilization.
• About 1,000 types of pollinators are vertebrates such as birds, bats, and small mammals.
• Most pollinators (about 200,000 species) are beneficial insects such as flies, beetles, wasps, ants, butterflies, moths, and bees.
• In the U.S., pollination produces nearly $20 billion worth of products annually.

    While the pollinators work hard, I plan to take it easy! After the predicted rain comes through on Wednesday, my backyard should be very pleasant. 
    Summer was always a carefree time for me. Although I didn’t ever really get the hang of roller skating, and we didn’t have a swing set in our yard, I liked to ride my bike to the neighborhood pool, play freeze tag and “Mother May I?” and “Stone Teacher” with the neighborhood kids. Do kids even do that anymore? I liked to jump rope and play jacks and draw with sidewalk chalk. I liked hopscotch. 
    I probably won’t do any of those activities on the Summer Solstice this year. My celebration will be much more relaxed and quiet. I heard that the hummingbirds are back. Maybe I’ll sit outside and watch for them a while.
                                                                   —stay curious!​

I really enjoyed Varina by Charles Frazier. I’m reading Tiny Infinities by J. H. Diehl. It’s about a young girl who babysits her mute next-door-neighbor and hears her speak her first word in 6 years. It’s also about dysfunctional families and swim meets. A lot to pack in a book for 8-12 year olds, but it works!

    “Well. . .” said Jack.
    The old man closed his hand around the beans. “Perhaps you’re not the smart boy I took you for,” he said. “Well, it’s no matter.” He put his hand back into his pocket.
    “No, wait” cried Jack. “I’ll do it!”
    And quick as a wink, the swap was made.
                                                from: Jack and the Beanstalk
                                                      retold by Susan Pearson
                                                  Illustrated by James Warhola
                        Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 1989

       Growing up, it seemed like there was always something to trade. My friend’s doll clothes were cuter than mine. She thought the same, so we’d trade. Sometimes we traded back. I liked red Pop-Sicles best of all. If my brother or sister or neighborhood kid had red, I’d always ask to trade. Sometimes someone would. 
       Our local library has a coupon swap. It’s on-going. If I have a coupon I know I won’t use, I bring it in and take one that’s useful to me. 
       My husband just told me some guy down the street offered to do a small job for him in exchange for a small item he needs that my husband doesn’t. 
       That’s how trading works. Give something, usually that you don’t want or can’t use or doesn’t fit, for something you *do* want or *is* useful and fits like a glove.
       And everyone wins and everyone’s happy.
       When I was in college, I took a required course in Basic Economics. I didn’t excel and I don’t remember very much, but I was fascinated. 
       Supply and demand made perfect sense. Rare stuff costs more than stuff that is plentiful. 
       A society agrees on the worth various items. Some have great value: diamonds, truffles, higher education. Some not so much: plastic, water, farm and domestic labor. (no value judgements, here.)
       The guns and butter description of the difference between domestic needs and foreign goods is another important economic concept. Although I hate the terms and what they imply, (of course, guns more than butter!) I do get the gist of the implications.
       And so most of our trade involves money these days. Our society determines that even though a $1 bill costs about 5.6 cents to print and stays in circulation for less than 6 years, it is worth much less than a $100 bill which costs about 13.2 cents to print and stays in circulation for 15 years.  
       https://www.federalreserve.gov/faqs/currency_12771.htm 
       In short, money is worth what a society agrees it is worth.
       Seems like a fair exchange in the world market would take into account several factors: 
            The scarcity or abundance of the components (or grain or oil or aluminum ore…)
            How difficult or easy something is to produce or provide
            Whether (or not) the people producing the items or harvesting the foodstuffs or extracting the ore are paid a fair wage
            The cost of transportation

       I’m sure much more goes into the final price you and I pay for stuff, but, really, is it that hard to imagine a world where people are paid fairly, resources are shared so no one starves, and new technology is encouraged to promote a clean and healthy environment for our one and only Earth? 
       I’m not so sure about my own generation, but I do have great faith in the future! 
       Go grandkids!
              
       I’m almost finished with Varina (Charles Frazier). He shows an interesting perspective, that of Jefferson Davis’s wife, and moves back and forth through time from just before the Civil War to about the 1870s. I hope his portrayal of her is accurate. It is historical fiction.
                                                                   —stay curious!

“Well, you can’t have your cake
And eat it too,” said Miss Edwards. 
“What good is having a cake 
If you can’t eat it?” Said Amelia Bedelia.
“Good point” said Miss Edwards.
She cut the cake into even slices.
Everyone enjoyed the treat.
This time, they could
Have their cake 
And eat it, too!
                                        from: Amelia Bedelia Takes the Cake
                                                     written by Herman Parish
                                                        pictures by Lynne Avril
                                                       Greenwillow Books, 2016

       Three years ago, June 9, 2015, I posted my first blog. I knew posting regularly would help me form a writing habit. I only hoped I had something to say.  
       A blog about children’s literature seemed logical. But so much of what seems logical doesn’t work out for one reason or another. And although I’ve tried hard to choose interesting quotations from familiar and unfamiliar children’s books, past and present, my mind is a mysterious thing.
       I try to be current and relevant. Sometimes I am. 
       I will not celebrate my blogiversary with cake. I didn’t even know I would write about cake until about 9:15 a..m. yesterday when I heard a story on NPR about the Supreme Court’s decision about the cake baker. He did not want to provide a wedding cake for a gay couple’s wedding celebration.
       Turns out, according to most of the most thoughtful and wisest minds in the United States, a shop owner is allowed to turn away a customer if said customer wants something the shop owner doesn’t want to provide. Not that he is not able to, just that he doesn’t want to. It could be because it goes against a particular conviction he or she is predisposed to. It could be because it doesn’t conform to his or her belief system. It could be because it sticks in his or her craw for any reason at all. 
       So the question that was NOT answered was, “Is this a matter of self-expression (which is protected by the Constitution) or a matter of discrimination (against which we are also protected)?
       Whose right is more right? I, with my little brain and no training in Constitutional Law, decided and re-decided what was right many, many times. 
       For any creative person, including a cake artist, expression is a primary goal. It seems, though, once a price is expected for a creative work, compromise must come into play. A decision to purchase an item rests in the hands and purse of the buyer. 
       If the artist doesn’t care about or need compensation, can he or she post a sign stating that? “I won’t make a cake for you if you are celebrating something I think is wrong”? The decision handed down yesterday doesn’t clarify that.
       Can a shop owner who wants to sell merchandise or provide a service select who is permitted to purchase said item or service? If a sign is posted, consumers will know to go elsewhere. 
       Posting signs makes my heart think of The South of the 1950s and Nazi Germany. Shop owners were selective then, and look where that led.
       So unless our society is willing to modify our definition of “human being,” someone who selectively chooses which customers to serve is practicing discrimination. An open door must be open, wide. 
      At the beginning of my fourth blog-year, even though children’s literature is not often my topic, that is where my focus resides. I’ll continue to send you quotes of inevitable Truth told by main characters or wise narrators. I’ll continue to look for interesting (for me and I hope for you) topics and ideas. 
       I’ll continue to hone my creativity and express thoughts on as many sides of as many issues as I can. 
I’m reading Varina by Charles Frasier
                                                                   —stay curious!


           ​

     We were a musical family. Not like the von Trapps or the Osmonds or the Beach Boys. We sang for fun. We sang on car trips and around the house. Daddy had a beautiful singing voice. He could sing harmony, too. And he could whistle.
     Mom could whistle, too, but she wasn't much of a singer. She taught our Girl Scout troop campfire-type songs and commented to me, when I was much older, that she always wondered how we learned the melodies. 
      There must be something innate about singing on key. Or not. Mom always said she could hear the right notes in her head, but they never came out the way she heard them.
       We all played musical instruments, too. Daddy played the banjo. Mom played clarinet. My brother and sister both played violin and I played piano. My grandmother played the mandolin, but I never heard her play. She could play the piano, too, but I never heard her play that either. My grandfather couldn't carry a tune in a bucket and he did not play an instrument, but he appreciated our music Someone always needs to be the audience, and he played that role very well.
      Sometimes we gathered around and sang show tunes, but I wouldn't call anything we did a jam session. It was all petty informal, except for our practice times. Those were enforced.
       I'm thinking about music this week because the Eurovision Sang Contest just finished up in Lisbon, Portugal.
       Since 1956, countries in Europe (mostly) compete for the top spot in the contest. Not very many people in the US have even heard of Eurovision, but it really is a world-wide big deal. There is no prize money involved for winning the contest, but the notoriety speaks (sings?) for itself.
       Last week, Israel's Netta Barzilai won Eurovision with her song, Toy, delivering Israel's fourth Eurovision victory. Although Netta was always aware of the music scene, she only gained the confidence she needed to be part of it a few years ago. And her singing career only began last year when she auditioned for and won a spot in the contest. According to Wikipedia, her music video received more than 20 million views in March, 2018, two months before the beginning of Eurovision. You can watch it on YouTube.
       Most of the time my music tends to be mellow or folksy. Simon and Garfunkel, some of the older Beatles, tunes, ballads in general. I also like Chopin.
       So while Netta's Toy will probably never be one of *my* favorite tunes, like my grandpa, I do appreciate her enthusiastic delivery.
                                               Keep a. song in your heart! and
                                               --stay curious!
​
       I'm reading Young Jane Young by Gabrielle Zevin. (Algonquin, 2017). So far it's light-hearted, but I sense something big coming. (I'm only on page 39! Stay tuned.)
                                               
       
       

​ 

     “...when we first moved to America, I would tell [my mother] that I missed home, especially the ocean.
     “When you say something out loud, it makes it a big truth. Best to keep it in your mind and keep it small,” she’d say.
                                                            from: Blackbird Fly
                                                  written by Erin Entrada Kelly
                                                               Greenwillow, 2015
 
       There is a difference between truth and reality. There is also a difference between Truth and truth. A lot of the difference has to do with perspection. But not all.
       Some things are simply true. An oak tree (and only an oak tree) will, given proper conditions, sprout from an acorn. Abraham Lincoln was president during the Civil War. Arithmetic. These can be proved.
       Some things are simply real. The ocean tides. Summer fading to Autumn. Gravity. These are observable.
       How much we allow our perceptions to color our truths and our reality depends on a variety of factors. And those factors are usually in flux.
       Last weekend, my daughter took my six-year-old granddaughter to a Unicorn Festival. A grand time was being had. Hot dogs on a stick and other fare were offered. Games were available to play and win.
       And Unicorns were on display. Prancing around in a ring. Several unicorns.
       Of course, my granddaughter was dressed for the occasion. She wore her unicorn headband, which, when worn correctly and not observed too closely, made a horn appear to grow from just above her forehead.
       She got as up close and personal to the Unicorns as she was allowed. She asked the Unicorn Trainer if those were real unicorns. When he said yes, she asked what the horns were made of. He looked right at her and told her in a no-nonsense tone, “They are made of the same material as your horn.”
       If the answer surprised or flustered my granddaughter, she did not let on. She replied in the Trainer’s same no-nonsense tone, “It’s not nice to lie to children.”
       While her answer was perceptive, astute, and true, I wanted some follow up. I wanted to know if she believed she was a unicorn. I don’t think so. Or, if like her, the miniature horses were playing dress-up. I do think so. Or if it was the Unicorn Trainer’s way of telling a young child who still believes in magic and that her mother is always right and knows everything, that there is no such thing as a real unicorn. I hope not.
       So, I’m not sure if my granddaughter’s perception of the Truth of Unicorns changed that day. I think she still believes in the Tooth Fairy. And does it really matter if there is a tooth fairy? or Unicorns? I think that is a matter of perception.
       Which comes back to the question. How do we know what is true? How do we know what is real? Beyond observations and proofs, there is Truth. The Big Truth that can’t change, the Truth a society tacitly agrees on. That good conquers evil, that lies will be discovered, that experience breeds wisdom.
       Our society is in a state of flux. Not everyone believes good will prevail, that lies will be punished, that experience is an insightful teacher.
       Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe.
       Maybe all we can know for sure is what we believe.
       And that's the Truth.
                                                                   --stay curious!
     

            One day not long after her arrival in Savannah, [Juliette Gordon Lowe aka Daisy] called her cousin, Nina Anderson Pape. “Come right over,” she shouted into the telephone. “I’ve got something for the girls of Savannah and all America and all the world, and we are going to start it tonight!”
     from First Girl Scout: The Life of Juliette Gordon Low
written by Ginger Wadsworth
Clarion Books, 2012
 
       Last week, Boy Scouts of America announced it is changing its name. Soon it will be called Scouts BSA. I can only wonder what prompted the change.
       My mom was a Campfire Girl when she was growing up. I was a Brownie.
       Mom said Girl Scouts were more modern, more in tune with current affairs. She beaded a beautiful bracelet and a pair of moccasins when she was a Campfire Girl. She wanted me to learn how to take care of myself and others. She wanted to help me become independent.
       Our troop started out as Brownies in 1959. We were in 2nd grade.
       We moved up to Juniors in 4th grade, then Cadettes in 6th.     
       We did all the Girl Scout things: sang campfire songs in our meeting room (the basement of our suburban Cape Cod home), earned badges, sold cookies (door to door in those days), and learned to be an important part of a whole. We worked together, friends helping friends.
       Thinking Day, February 22, is the one day each year set aside for all Girl Guides and Girl Scouts to think of each other. The event began as a way for girls to nurture new friendships. In 1926, girls came from all over the world and spent a week at Camp Macy in upstate New York. Since then, Thinking Day has evolved into a world exploration. Girls research the culture of different countries and share the information with other troops in their area.
       Always an independent thinker herself, one time, Mom chose Suriname. In 1954, the South American colony began negotiations with the Dutch government that would lead to its independence. Suriname was younger than we were.
       Another time it was Sierra Leone, an African country that achieved independence from the United Kingdom in 1961, the same year we became Junior Girl Scouts.
       I’d like to say that I kept in touch with all, or even some, or even one of the girls in my troop, but I did not. In all fairness to me, though, neither did they. After 6th grade we went our separate ways. Our different focuses had changed to reflect our own changing selves and our roles in the vast social strata of Junior High School and beyond.
       My older daughter was a Girl Scout for one school year. My younger daughter started as a Brownie and went all through high school with her troop. As Seniors, they earned their Gold Award, the highest Girl Scout honor, by completing a nature trail for the local elementary school.
       Now my older granddaughter is a Brownie. She goes to her meetings, sells cookies, and just completed her first Girl Scout camping experience.
       And now the boys are inviting girls to join them. They’ve even changed their name. To make it more palatable? Some girls have already joined. The full change will be implemented in February, 2019.
       According to MetroNews.com, the Girl Scouts has no plans to start accepting boys into their organization.
       I’m glad about that.
​
       I’m reading Origin by Dan Brown. Plot driven. Fast paced. Intriguing premise. Feeling a little manipulated by the ongoing mystery, though.
                                                                   --stay curious!