I just used the movies search trick on Google to see what’s playing in our area. I have one word of advice for every other movie listings site out there: speed. It took me all of 30 seconds to find the times and information about the film. This on a 56k link. There’s no reason for me to use any other movie search.
Hint for Yahoo! Movies and other such slow sites: ditch the advertisements, dumbass, they’re slowing you down.
Meryl pointed out In2Books, a program to pair young readers with adult pen pals which began in the Washington, D. C., schools. The adult reads the same book the children do, and they correspond about it. Perhaps they will find that, as Thomas Jefferson did,
I cannot live without books.
Deena and the girls have been reading the Little House series, by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Turns out we have a gap in our collection; so while we wait for their delivery, we finished Stuart Little. The girls, the Little Sister in particular, love singing along with Oliver!, so I tried Oliver Twist, but that didn’t work. Mr. Charles Dickens never found a word he couldn’t squeeze into a sentence somewhere, eventually finding his point somewhere between the beginning of his artful construction and its punctuation, on a course more meandering than not, but placing the antecedent somewhere towards the end of the sentence, with the prepositions scattered before it, renders his meaning hard for little ears to capture.
So they’re reading Alice in Wonderland.
Country Walkers sells walking tours that for some reason remind me of the picnic scene outside Florence in A Room with a View.
From her feet the ground sloped sharply into view, and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts, irrigating the hillside with blue, eddying round the tree stems, collecting into pools in the hollows, covering the grass with spots of azure foam. But never again were they in such profusion; this terrace was the well-head, the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth.
One of these summers we’d like to visit Prince Edward Island, for the obvious reason. I wonder how the girls would do on this kind of trip. They’ve certainly held up to a lot of walking.
E. M. Forster’s A Room with a View and L. M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables are in the public domain. You can read them at the libraries of Gutenberg Project or the University of Michigan, among others.
The Big Sister made this doll yesterday.
Maybe the question to ask is not did a four-year-old paint these, but why do people pay so much for abstract works? I’m quite confident that those paintings could be by a child, but I’m not so confident that abstract works deserve any of the attention lavished on them.
Little Miss Marla Olmstead‘s been well-promoted.
Besides, who lets their kids play with oil paints? Do you know how hard that is to get out of the carpet?
The Sisters were discussing theology the other day. The Church sent us an offering envelope for Easter, along with the mass schedule for Holy Week. I’ve been using it as a bookmark, in lieu of any other scrap of paper. It must have fallen out of my book, for I overheard the Sisters talking about where God is.