​ 
       As Mrs. Fernman’s gaze swept the room, Waylon looked down and pretended to study his fingernails. He had lots of ideas for making things more awesome—his new journal was going to be full of them—but nothing yet for making things safer. Safer and More Awesome were pretty much opposites, he suddenly realized.
                                           from: Waylon! One Awesome Thing
                                                written by: Sara Pennypacker
                                                    pictures by: Marla Frazee
                                                          Disney/Hyperion, 2016
 
       Ideas are everywhere. They can be forehead slappers or chin strokers. They can come in a flash and then flash they’re gone.
       This week I’m celebrating ideas. “On January 27, 1880, Thomas Edison received the historic patent embodying the principles of his incandescent lamp that paved the way for the universal domestic use of electric light.” https://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=true&doc=46
       Just draw a lightbulb over my head! Everyone understands what that means. Although controversy rages about who and when and how electricity came to be harnessed, the lightbulb is really one of humankind’s most useful inventions.
       Some ideas are ahead of their time, like colored glue and some ideas come to market before they are fully thought out like Corvairs. And some are as perfect and perfectly timed as a hoola hoop.
       January is Picture Book Idea Month, now dubbed StoryStorm. The goal is to write down one new idea per day that may make a good picture book. Inspiration comes from various authors, editors and agents who guest-blog on a site called “Writing for Kids While Raising Them” by author Tara Lazar.
       Some of my ideas come from paying attention. Some come from listening and thinking about a problem from a different perspective. (Remember my 2017 Word of the Year?) Sometimes ideas come from quiet.
       I have not generated an idea per day, but after a couple of dry days, I sometimes think of three or four. Now, January 31, I have 20 ideas, 20 more than I had on January 1. It will be great iIf just a few work out.
       Even if an idea turns out to be a bad idea, I remember what Thomas Edison famously said: “I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.”
                                                                   --stay curious!

“Poetry will help,” Glerk said. “The study of language ennobles the rowdiest beast.”
                                        from: The Girl Who Drank the Moon
                                                                 by Kelly Barnhill
                                                Algonquin Young Readers, 2016
                                    Winner of the 2017 John Newbery Medal
       (The Newbery Medal honors the author of the most distinguished                            contribution to American literature for children.                          http://www.ala.org/alsc/awardsgrants/bookmedia)                  
 
       The first place I went when I moved to a new city was the library. Before I unloaded a box, before I made up the beds and the crib, before I shopped for groceries. I called for directions, packed up the kids and headed out.
       I needed a new library card for my new city. I had to show proof of residency, but I could not. The paperwork for the new house was filed somewhere and we hadn’t received any mail, yet. I understood, but I was disappointed. So my two-year-old, my ten-month-old, and I read at the library that first afternoon. As soon as I could I went back and signed up for my new card. The three of us became library “regulars." I made my selections and let them choose, too. 
       My younger daughter took home Dr. Seuss’s The Sneetches so many times that I finally told her another child needed to have a turn. I bought The Sneetches. My older daughter wanted everything and loved everything indiscriminately. She still has eclectic taste.
       When my girls were small we read every night before bedtime. We read in the morning and the afternoon, too. Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit was a favorite. The “Sneetch” daughter wanted to hear about Peter for weeks on end, really. I asked her why she liked the story so much. She just looked at me and said, “I just have to make sure Peter doesn’t get caught this time.” Oh! What I learned and still learn from my kids (and grandkids)!
       My older daughter had a favorite book. She took it everywhere Mrs. Duck’s Lovely Day by Vivienne Blake .was not soft like a blankie. It was too big for her pocket. It was not a library book. But, it had pictures and the story came out the same every time. 
       Everyone who knows me knows how much I love children’s literature. The library awards are announced at the end of January each year. I usually say, "How did I miss *that* one?" This year Kelly Barnhill won the Newbery (see quote above) for Drinking the Moon. and Javaka Steptoe won the Caldecott Award for his biography Radiant Child: The Story of Young Artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. I knew them both. 
       And yep, two of my faves, borrowed from, you guessed it: the library!
 
(For the The American Library Association's whole award list see: http://www.ala.org/alsc/2017-alsc-book-media-award-winners)
​
                                                                    stay curious!

     The Kingdom of Didd was ruled by King Derwin. His palace stood high on the top of the mountain. From his balcony, he looked down over the houses of all his subjects – first, over the spires of the noblemen’s castle, across the broad roofs of the rich men’s mansions, then over the little houses of the townsfolk, to the huts of the farmers far off in the fields. It was a mighty view and it made King Derwin feel mighty important.
 
     Far off in the fields, on the edge of a cranberry bog, stood the hut of the Cubbins family. From the small door Bartholomew. . . [saw] the same view that King Derwin saw from his balcony, but Bartholomew saw it backward.
 
     It was a mighty view, but it made Bartholomew Cubbins feel mighty small.
 
                             from: The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins
                                          written and illustrated by Dr. Seuss
                                                          Vanguard Press, 1938
                      (Vanguard Press was sold to Random House in 1988)
 
       Sometimes a person's perspective matches reality, but it can also be the opposite of reality or somewhere in the middle. My idea of what is real, my perspective, may or may not match up with what is really true, whatever *true* really is. Here’s what I mean:
       One evening some friends came over to my house for a party. We had food and drinks, talking and music, laughter and fun. The kids’ bedtimes came and went. They were sung to, read to, and tucked in snug. People came and left until all that remained was the cleaning up.
       Next morning, my daughters asked me, “Mommy, who was the man with the brown shoes?” I laughed and said I didn’t know. I still don’t know. The question taught me, though, that perception is everything. We all have our own eye-level views of the world.
       I hold what is important at my own eye level, heart level, mind level. I pay attention to what someone says, how a person carries him/herself, the questions s/he asks me.
       What kind of shoes? Not so much, for me. But I understand what is important for me or even what I can understand (or not) comes from my perspective. That’s what is true for me. And I know that shoes, in a ground-level-issues kind of way, *are* important.
       Bartholomew Cubbins had a distorted view of reality. His perspective was skewed by his circumstances. Same with King Derwin. Usually the truth of a matter is somewhere in the middle of two (or more) extremes. But “balance” was last year’s word!
       So I don’t promise to toss my rose-colored glasses. I will still wear them. They are part of me. What I will pay attention to this year, though, is the very fact of them. How my perspective colors my world. How I understand what is true. And how each person’s perspective is as unique and wonderful as the person him/herself.
 
                                                                   --stay curious!

     ​ Spying is when you be very quiet. And you look at people through a peeky hole or a crack or something.
      I am a very good spier.
      That’s because I have sneaky feet and my nose doesn’t whistle when I breathe.
 
                     from: Junie B. Jones and Some Sneaky Peeky Spying
                                                               by Barbara Park
                                                  llustrated by Denise Brunkus
                                                            Random House, 1994
      
       I don’t like to put the light on first thing in the morning. I can find my phone, my book and my glasses (even though they’re pretty useless in the dark) because I know where I put them at night. I walk out to the kitchen, turn on the coffee and head downstairs to the cat boxes. That’s when I finally turn on the light.
       Rooting around for something in the dark is different. That’s like spying and spying sounds sneaky. Like SURPRISE! Grandpa takes out all his teeth every night! and wanting to hide in the clothes hamper to find out more.
       Spying has a lot to do with secrets, but not everything. 
       So what do we do with the big spying going on at the highest levels of government? On one hand, I remind myself of Dad’s line, “Let them spy. I don’t have anything to hide.” But that was the ‘70s. The Nixon era seems almost frivolous, almost innocuous now. Those spies wanted to win an election, too, but it was us against us.
       On the other hand, this current spying has not so much to do with secrets and so very much to do with trust. If another country, or people in power in our own country, can cast doubt about the truth of the workings of our democracy, trust will be surely destroyed.
       It’s getting harder and harder to make sense out of my little corner of the world. Harder and harder to trust that all’s well. Harder and harder to stand up for what I know is right.
       I need my rose-colored glasses. I’m sure I can find them in the dark.                                                                                                                                                 --stay curious!

Pete had a big spade.
Mary had a fat flower pot.
But Titch had the tiny seed.
And Titch's seed grew and grew and grew!
                                                                      from: Titch
                                                                 by Pat Hutchins
                                                                  Macmillan, 1971   
     I don’t usually make resolutions this time of year, so here’s a list of some of my favorite little things.
 
being awake for a rosy sunrise
catching up on the phone with a friend who I haven’t seen in years
spontaneous hugs from a grandchild
spontaneous hugs from my grown-up child
my husband’s just-for-me smile
silky figure-8 kitty leg-hugs
the winter beauty in a tree’s skeleton
my car starting the first time
mail delivered right to my front door in rain, snow, sleet or hail
children singing (whether or not I know them)
easy breathing
brisk walks in the woods on a path that is not paved
walking barefoot inside and out
keeping the light on until everyone is home
robins sucking up fat worms
sparrow song
ripe peaches
hot tea
good hair days
laughter
belly-laughs
daffodils
tilled soil
chocolate
reading a good book
 
       I was going to stop at a symbolic 17, but that didn’t seem like enough. When I finished the list, I thought of revising it. You know, making it better. Ranking the things from most to least important, or the other way round. Or maybe categorizing: family, health, nature...Or arranging them into some type of time frame, or according to each of the senses.
       These favorite little things are in the order they popped into my head. The list is incomplete, for sure. But these important things are what I’ll think of when 2017 becomes challenging.
       Oh, one more. The smell of coffee brewing any (every) day of the week! Cheers!
                                                                                                                                                      --stay curious!