I showed the grown-ups my masterpiece, and I asked them if my drawing scared them.
     They answered, “Why be scared of a hat?”
     My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. Then I drew the inside of the boa constrictor, so the grown-ups could understand. They always need explanations.
 
                                                        From: The Little Prince
                            Written and drawn by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry                           translated from the French by Katherine Woods
                                               Harcourt, Brace & World, 1943
 
       Ideas are everywhere. Ideas for stories and poems. Inventions are ideas, ideas to propel us into space or make life easier or more interesting. Sometimes a make-believe idea can come true. Sometimes it stays a daydream. I heard Johnny Cash’s daughter Roseanne tell her idea about ideas. They are everywhere looking for us. We catch them when we are ready to see and understand them.
       Ever hear something that didn’t make sense, then it did? That happened to me when I was little. My mom and I could hardly walk through a crowded aisle at the grocery store. “What a bottleneck!” she said. I slapped my forehead in recognition and belly-laughed till tears came and I could hardly walk. Mom asked what was so funny? When I could talk, I told her, “I get it! A big crowd is cramming through a small space, just like ketchup! A bottle-neck!”
       One time when I stayed for a weekend with my daughter and son-in-law, my oldest grandson woke early. He crawled into my sleeping bag and we started talking about math. Me and math at 6:00 a.m. But okay. He wanted to know about fractions. Why is ½ bigger than ¼? The numbers belie the facts. I told him to imagine a pizza. He said he had that picture. Now cut it in half. How many pieces do you have? He answered: two, half and half. Cut your pizza in half again. Now how many pieces do you have? He answered: four.  Forehead slapper. I could see his smile in the filtered early morning sunlight.
       “Did my picture get into your brain?” I asked him. He nodded, still smiling. He’s only a couple of years away from being a teenager now, and fractions are second nature to him, not because of me, I think. My grandson has a math brain.
       That’s a little bit where ideas come from. They are out there. We have to look for them and be ready to catch them. And sometimes we can share them in just the right way to let them live for someone else.
       Stories are like that, I think. My brain works better in words than pictures, but I’m trying to change that. Pictures are easier to share, when we find the right words to do it!
       April is National Poetry Month. Many poems are word-pictures. They can look like regular writing, but the pictures they give us or the memory they evoke or the music in them gives them away.   
       This one by Emily Dickenson about a sunset, looks like a poem on the page, but the picture--colors and movement of the water--explode from her brain to mine, and now yours, too!
​
Where Ships of Purple — gently toss --
On Seas of Daffodil --
Fantastic Sailors — mingle --
And then — the Wharf is still!                                                                                                                     --stay curious!

A tree is nice to plant. You dig the biggest
hole you can and put the little tree in.
Then you pour in lots of water and then the dirt.
You hang the shovel back in the garage.
 
Every day for years and YEARS
​you watch the little tree grow.
You say to people, “I planted that tree.”
 
They wish they had one so they
go home and plant a tree too.
 
                                                           from: A Tree is Nice
                                                            by Janice May Udry
                                                      pictures by Marc Simont
                                                             HarperCollins, 1956

       This Saturday, April 22, is Earth Day. National Arbor Day is the last Friday in April every year.  I remember when I learned that trees breathe out oxygen and need carbon dioxide to live. Mother Nature is clever like that! For me, trees are the intersection of solid stability (sturdy as an oak) and gentle fragility (as dependent on their environment as we are).
       When we were growing up, my sister and brother and I had our own tree. His name was Charley. He lived in my grandparent’s side yard. Charley was really big, but I don’t know what kind of tree he was. We used to feed him berries we found on the hedge next to where he lived. We’d gather the berries in our cupped hands and go looking for a stick with a flat end. We’d squash the berries into Charley’s trunk. I’m sure he liked them. I knew that’s what kept him so strong for so long, even though my mom made sure we knew the berries were poison for people, especially children.
       Sometimes when I was allowed to go outside by myself, I’d feed Charley a few berries and plop down next to him and listen to birds, wind, the trolley that clackered in front of the house taking people to work or home or for a visit somewhere.
       When I was first married, an enormous white dogwood tree lived outside my trailer. In full-bloom, that dogwood took my breath away.
​       My first house in Youngstown sported a young dogwood. This pink one was no less beautiful, but so small. It looked delicate, but I knew better. Forty years later, it’s a big, big tree.
       When my girls were small, our neighbors had a wonderful climbing tree in their backyard. My older daughter spent most of her summer in that tree. Reading, watching, thinking.
        Earth Day Network set a goal to plant or inspire the planting of 7.8 billion trees worldwide—one for every person projected to be on Earth on Earth Day, 2020, the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. 
       And we can each do something. Get an idea at their website: http://www.earthday.org/take-action/ and let me know what you think.
                                                     -stay curious! (and active)

​       “I liked The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” Matilda said. “I think Mr C. S. Lewis is a very good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books.”
                                                                    from: Matilda
                                                                    by Roald Dahl
                                                    illustrated by Quentin Blake
                                                                      Viking, 1988.
 
       This week is National Library Week. In Roald Dahl’s memory I’ve put together my short list of favorite funny books:
 
Favorite funny picture books:
Feiffer, Jules. Bark, George!  HarperCollins, 1999.
Haughton, Chris. Shh! We Have a Plan. Candlewick, 2014.
Parrish, Peggy. Amelia Bedelia. Harper and Row, 1963.
  ------Amelia Bedelia’s Family Album. Greenwillow, 1988.
Willems, Mo. Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus. Hyperion Books for           Children, 2003.
 
Favorite funny chapter books:
Clary, Julian. The Bolds. Carolhroda Books, 2015.
Juster, Norman. The Phantom Tollbooth. Random House, 1961.
Park, Barbara. Junie B. First Grader: Aloha-ha-ha! Random House, 2006.
   ------ Junie B., First Grader: Toothless Wonder. Random House, 2002.
   ------ Junie B. Jones is a Beauty Shop Guy. Random House, 1998.
Pennypacker, Sara. Clementine. Hyperion Books for Children, 2006.
 
Favorite funny poetry:
Agee, Jon. Orangutan Tongs: Poems to Tangle Your Tongue.                         Disney/Hyperion, 2009.
Prelutsky, Jack. New Kid on the Block. Greenwillow, 1984.
Silverstein, Shel. Where the Sidewalk Ends. Harper and Row, 1974.
 
       My first library was a mansion. It once belonged to Frances P. Bolton, the first woman elected to Congress from Ohio. Finally defeated after her 15th term, Mrs. Bolton returned to her estate in Lyndhurst, Ohio. The Cuyahoga County Library System acquired the home and shelved books in every room. It felt magical to me.
       Once, when I was wandering from room to room in the children’s wing, I discovered a book called, I thought, Magic House Numbers. But, oh no! When I got home and opened it up, I saw it was a math book: Magic House of Numbers. Math was not my best thing even as a ten-year-old. But the book was very cool.
       Did you know that every multiple of nine adds up to nine? Like 9 times 3 is 27 (2+7=9) and 9 times 6 is 54 (5+4=9). The whole book is full of helpful tips like that.
       I went through a biography phase. Biographies are easy to find in a library. They are all lined up alphabetically. A book about Copernicus might end up right next to a book about Jacque Cousteau. I found out about lots of people I had never heard of. Some were very famous!
       I spent quiet hours curled up on the sofa reading Cheaper by the Dozen, Little Women, Heidi, and The Secret Garden. Funny books weren’t my favorites, then. But I love reading. Some funny books are even my favorites now.
       Libraries have every kind of book for every kind of kid and grown-up. Now libraries have movies, audiobooks, lots of technology to use there or borrow, for free. Libraries have quiet spaces and noisy spaces. Some libraries have gardens. And libraries have librarians to help you find or figure out what you're looking for.
       As we say in Mahoning County, Ohio: I Love My Library!
                                                                   --stay curious!

My sister says that blue is sad
            Like a lonely song.
But my blue is happy 
Like my favorite jeans
            And a splash in the pool on a hot day.
 
“Yellow is cheery,” says my mom.
“Like the summer sun.”
But my yellow is worried
Like a wilting flower
And a butterfly caught in a net.
 
The boy next door says red is angry
            Like a dragon’s burning breath.
But my red is as brave as a fire truck
            And my superhero cape.
                              . . .
I guess colors are how you see them
            And my blue is happy.
 
                                                        from: My Blue Is Happy
                                                               by Jessica Young
                                                       illustrated by Catia Chien
                                                                Candlewick, 2013
  
       On National Crayon Day, March 31, 2017, Crayola announced it is retiring dandelion from its line-up of yellows. This is big. After being introduced in 1990, the dandelion crayon is going the way of the Monopoly iron, and thimble..
       According to www.crayola.com. the new color will be in the blue family and we can all participate in choosing the new name. Instructions will follow its unveiling in May.
      I am one of very few people I know who didn’t outgrow my love of dandelions, although I do admit to a love/hate relationship. Those hearty and hardy tufts sprout up in the nastiest conditions. I smile to think of the resilience of a dandelion in a patch of dry, grassless soil, bravely tossing its bright cheer toward anyone willing to acknowledge it’s anything more than a common weed. And that’s where the hate comes in.
       They brighten up the endless span of suburban lawns. But they are the excuse many people have for using poisonous weed-killers.
       The beautiful dots of color become puffs of seeds ready to disperse and proliferate with a wish. When I find them, I pick the flowers before they have a chance to set their puffy seed heads.
       What is cheerier than a child’s bouquet full of dandelions? I love those for many reasons. First, the color makes me smile. Next, there are fewer in the lawn. Lastly, a picked dandelion bouquet won’t last very long, no matter how quickly it’s placed in a beautiful vase of fresh water.
       I’ve collected bouquets myself and given more than I can remember to my mom, my gram, my grown-up friend who lived next door. My friends and I made bracelets and crowns by weaving the stems together. We wore them proudly.
       My gram didn’t like dandelions in the grass. My mom didn’t like to see her bent over almost double, pulling them from the lawn. They compromised. Gram got a folding lawn chair from the garage, her pronged garden digger and got to work, dragging the chair from place to place. Gram insisted she liked pulling those nasty weeds. She might have been the happiest to receive my bouquets.
       Meanwhile, the dandelion crayon will be available in the box of 24’s until the end of April. Why replace a yellow? Some people in high places don’t like dandelions? or blue is better? or a re-balancing of primary colors is in order? But no matter. I’ll just have to stock up on the 24’s for my grandkids. Oh!
​                                                                   --stay curious!