Many of the books in this order were replacements of much loved classics that had seen better days:

Katy and the Big Snow – Virginia Lee Burton

Glad Monster, Sad Monster and Go Away, Big Green Monster – Ed Emberley

The Amazing Bone – William Steig

Herb the Vegetarian Dragon – Jules Bass and Debbie Harter

If I Ran the Circus, Yertle the Turtle and I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew – Dr. Seuss

Nestled between the replacements were two books that are going to be classics in their own rights some day.  That’s my prediction anyway…

Sophie Peterman Tells the Truth made me laugh out loud.  Older siblings are expected to love and adore their younger siblings but Sophie cuts right to the chase and explains EXACTLY why they shouldn’t.  And she’s not kidding.  Even when those younger monsters get a little older and might actually be kind of winsome there’s a perfectly good reason not to tell anyone you might LIKE the little thing.  Robert Neubecker’s India ink illustrations are digitally colored and wonderfully expressive.  The relationship between text and illustrations will make this one a keeper!

I’ve already raved about Jerry Pinkney’s almost wordless The Lion and the Mouse.  It’s still my pick for the Caldecott Medal.  There are many other fine, fine almost wordless and wordless books that were published in 2009 and Susan Gal’s Night Lights is one of them.  Few words are needed as one little girl and her dog explore the light that only exists when the sun goes down: the porch light, lantern light and firelight to name just a few. The charcoal and digital collage illustrations focus the light in the same magical way that night does.  Light and shadow are so expertly depicted, that on this foggy winter’s day I got a little taste of summer and it feels wonderful.  This is Ms. Gal’s first foray into picture books and I certainly hope it isn’t her last.

And so it goes.

It was exam week at the OK Corral and Library.  The schedule was all topsy-turvy and the kids were befuddled with snow days and the relief of teachers NOT going on strike as a contract agreement was reached.  It was one of those times when the students actually realized how much their education mattered or at least how much the routine of school comforted them.  I too was breathing deeply as it appeared we were approaching something that looked like a normal week thus I looked up from what I was doing when someone said “See you Monday, Mrs. Norman.”  “Huh?” I replied, “What’s wrong with tomorrow?”  “No school tomorrow.  Teacher’s work day to get grades in,” and the student skipped gleefully out the back door.  Really?  My heart beat a little faster.  Really?  No students tomorrow?  I dug through the piles of detritus on my desk and unearthed my calendar.  Shuffle, shuffle.  Flip to January – I was in April planning National Library Week.  Yee HAW!  No students on Friday and Monday off.  Wahoo!  Do you know how much work I get done when there are no students!?  I will not waste today.  This is like a big box wrapped in red paper and a bow! 
The unreliable weather folks call for drizzle and warm air. The children will all stay home and curl up with good books that they will read and retunr on time – we all have our fantasies, leave me to mine please.  And I will have an uninterrupted day of planning and plotting and will be able to complete my thoughts without putting out unexpected fires.  Yes!
And so it goes.

I love listening to the winter weather forecast for NE Ohio.  It makes me smile because most of the time the forecasters get it wrong.  “There’s a 105 cance of rain today.”  Hullo!  Look out the window!  The cats and dogs are falling out of the sky.  But nothing is quite so entertaining as the surprise in voices that report “Sunshine this morning,” in the depths of a grey winter.  I expect them to follow that sentence with “Honestly folks, that’s what it says right here on this piece of paper.  Sunshine!  You remember that, right?  It’s that yellow orb that glows in the sky.”  We all get a little giddy at the prospect of sun carrying hope in the deep winter days.
As we live our lives and go through our days in these times, we all carry our own burdens and joys.  I would ask that we take one small moment to hold up the land and people of Haiti, who are most surely in need of whatever we can give them. 
And so it goes.

It’s a winter urge to bury deeper into the cave of warm blankets and stay there.  My bed was a particularly warm and cozy place this morning.  Funny how it takes time to find the right combination of blankets to sleep comfortably in a new home.  I have finally found it for the winter and that’s a good thing however…my bed is a comfy place.  (NB I have moved successfully from the loveseat.)  Still I arise and unbury myself reluctantly and go through morning chores.  I like to think of chores.  I’m an old farm girl after all and chores is what one does – even though I am not on a farm anymore.  On these winter mornings my chores are more complex in the preparation than they are in the summer.  Walking the dogs takes bundling and boots, while they dance about crossing there legs wishing their human had fur and could just walk out the door.  Still our morning walk on days like this when the world isn’t icy or excessively windy is ours alone.  The sky is dark and the air cold.  The smells and scents are fresh and alive.  We return home to warmth and treats and coffee and the fresh air has us all ready to begin the day.  Chores are no longer the tedious things of childhood but a solitary time to quietly begin the day.  But then again, maybe I am romanticizing the entire thing and I really want to be a bear and wake up when the white stuff begins to melt.
And so it goes.

There’s nothing quite like that first cup of coffee in the morning – hot and creamy.  I have come to value these quiet moments of thought and reflection even more than I did before.  It’s hard some days to get centered and balanced and this quiet helps.
When the days began to grow dark in the early evening I found it disheartening to come home to a dark house.  I bought night lights but that didn’t quite do the trick.  Still a rather gloomy entrance home.  A dear friend suggested that I get a timer and I loved the magic of a light glowing when I walked in the door.  Still, that wasn’t quite it.  Christmas rolled around with lights and sparkly places and although I was sad to see the lights go, I wasn’t at all sorry to take to tree down.  Hmmmm.
About a month or so after I moved in the same dear friend (and another one too!) came and hung the art and treasures on my walls.  With some minor tweaking since then, my living room has become a quiet, restful place.  On the ledge that runs around the room and into the kitchen I have placed glass objects that I love.  Some of them were my mother’s, some I have found at thrift stores and antique shops.  Much of it might be Depression Glass.  Most of it is red and pink. (OK ALL of the glass in the living room is red and pink.  The amber is in the kitchen.  I don’t have a place for the green yet.)  In the summer the light coming through the window shone through the glass and it sparkled with sunshine and light.  Alas, the dreary days of winter arrived as they are wont to do and the shiny summer glints were lost in the dark days.  “Put Christmas lights on the ledge,” the dear friend (csm) said.  After some initial hesitation on my part, but sad at losing the warm joy of those lights, I did just that and cleverly plugged those into the timer and voila!  The glass sparkles and glistens as I come in the door at night, reflecting warmth and coziness.
I love this room – where more often than not candlelight glows and glass twinkles.  A basket of yarn waits for me and books introduce me to the lives between the pages.  This is a special place – my special place.
And so it goes.

FYI:  “Interlude” will be the title of blogposts that are book reviews only.  This will make them easier for me to find and easier for you to skip if you have no interest.

I love book awards.  There is some argument that there are too many but I say “The more the merrier!”  Anything that brings attention to print material in these days of screens and curling up with a good machine has value in my not-so-humble opinion.  The William C Morris YA Debut Award (http://www.ala.org/ala/mgrps/divs/yalsa/booklistsawards/morris/morrisaward.cfm) is in its second year and the name is self-explanatory.  I read Hold Still by Nina LaCour, this year’s winner, this weekend. I stayed up into the wee hours to finish it and that hasn’t happened in a long, long time.The characters are brilliantly drawn.  Their development is sincere and realistic – both adults and teens. The author’s ability to create a setting that is both general and specific pulls the reader into a place that is right around the corner but genuinely West Coast – no mean feat while sitting in snowy Northeast Ohio and reading about a place in Northern California.  At the heart of the novel is Caitlin, strong and vulnerable and sorting it all out.  She is perfectly crafted and her growing understanding of the suicide of her best friend Ingrid moves with perfect pacing through the stages of grief.  There are moments that glisten like new snow – Taylor during the performance of Romeo and Juliet, her parents trying to find something, anything, to help her heal, and the ebb and flow of relationships as Caitlin tries to find her feet in an Ingrid-less world.  This is a wonderful, wonderful first novel.  Three rousing huzzahs for this new talent.

This being said there is a problem with this book.  It’s in the building of the tree house.  Caitlin knows that she needs bolts to fasten the house to the tree.  She buys bolts.  Twice.  Then, alas, she never uses the bolts.  Never talks about using the bolts, the sounds of the drill, the use of the drill.  In fact she actually hammers a bolt into the wood – Can’t be done, darlin’.  Maybe nobody else caught it.  Maybe it is my experience of iving with a carpenter or building stage sets for a million years, but it jarred me out of the story every single time. 

Still, this one is worth reading, I’m just not sure it should have earned an award.  Now, Nick Burd’s Vast Fields of the Ordinary on the other hand…. More about that one later.

And so it goes.

Past bed time – again.  Oh well.
This is one of my favorite times of the year.  It’s award season in Library Land.  I have to confess that with all the changes my reading this past year hasn’t been as prolific as it usually is.  Time to get back on THAT horse for sure.  However, I believe I’ve read enough to have an opinion about what the best should be in children’s and young adult literature this year.  So let’s begin with the Caldecott Medal.  The criteria for this award can be found here:  http://www.ala.org/ala/mgrps/divs/alsc/awardsgrants/bookmedia/caldecottmedal/caldecottterms/caldecottterms.cfm  In brief the award is given to a resident of the United States for distinguished illustrations of a picture book.  This is a terribly abridged version of the criteria and the members of the committee spend long hours pouring over countless picture books.  It is not an easy task.  There has to be a marriage between illustration and text and a strong story line in the illustrations themselves.  My pick for this year’s win is a stunning piece by Jerry Pinkney entitled The Lion and the Mouse.  This nearly wordless book is a brilliant retelling of the Aesop’s fable by the same title.  I was hard-pressed to let it leave my desk for about two weeks after it came in and found myself returning to it again and again to find something new each time I opened the covers.  And it wasn’t until one of the children was looking at it that I noticed the cover illustrations complement each other as well – the front being of the lion and the back of the mouse.  I laughed out loud and we all stood around and oooo-ed and ahhhhh-ed over it.  The expressions on the animals faces are jewel-like in their precision and realism.  This is an absolutely perfect, perfect book.  Check it out at a library near you.

PS – I can’t remember how to post a hyper-link so here’s the long Amazon link for the book:
http://www.amazon.com/Lion-Mouse-Jerry-Pinkney/dp/0316013560
Take a look.  You won’t be disappointed.

Other illustrated literature of note:
NB:  Some of thse may not be award eligible because of the residency requirement but they are still fine, fine books and you should find them at your library!
Crow call / Lois Lowry ; illustrations by Bagram Ibatoulline
Once Upon a Twice by Denise Doyen Illustrator: Barry Moser
The Hair of Zoe Fleefenbacher Goes to School by Laurie Halse Anderson Illustrator:  Ard Hoyt
Let’s Do Nothing by Tony Fucile Illustrated by the author
Duck! Rabbit! / [text by] Amy Krouse Rosenthal ; [illustrations by] Tom Lichtenheld
A book / by Mordicai Gerstein  Illustrated by the author
Leaf / ideas, sound effects, and pictures by Stephen Michael King
Blueberry girl / written by Neil Gaiman ; illustrated by Charles Vess

And there’s another dilemma…I slept in my bed and because I was exhausted and not cramped and could stretch and roll about I slammed the alarm and slept until 7:30 and thanks goodness it’s a late start day and I have time to shower……and this is a run on sentence and that’s not good and I’ll add to this with book reviews and award predictions when I get to work…..and I’ve been spelling dilemma wrong my entire life.  Good grief!
This community ROCKS!  Thanks you all for your support and good wishes.  It means a lot!

So here’s the thing…In April I moved into my own place.  Years of a spouse’s alcoholism and broken promises and empty dreams finally became one day too many and so here I am.  A new address, a new home.  We’re all still adjusting, but we’re doing a decent job of it.  It’s new territory but exciting and scary all at the same time.
I was careful when I left to take only what was mine – purchased or inherited or gifted.  That meant that at least some furniture had to be purchased, including a couch.  I love my new little place.  It’s clean and neat, room enough for visiting children or friends.  Even doing dishes is fun because it’s only my mess I’m cleaning.  I have been able to put my favorite glass pieces along the window sill and the sun shines through the colors and makes me smile.  But the couch has presented a problem.
I have bookshelves – imagine that!  In fact I need more bookshelves.  The problem this presents is that I’d rather have books and shelves to put ‘em on than a full sized, three-seat couch.  So I bought a loveseat at my favorite used furniture/antique/secondhand store.  I didn’t love the loveseat but it gets the job done….well kind of….
I love sleeping on the couch.  I love reading and falling asleep with my book, or listening to a book on tape and falling asleep, or crocheting and listening and falling asleep and just staying where I am.  With a full size couch this was never a problem.  With a love seat it leads to cramped neck, crunched knees, and waking up at 3 a.m.  Once my feet hit the floor the dogs believe it must be time to go outside and in this weather that involves coats and hats and boots and scarves and gloves and …. Once I’ve done all of that I might as well stay up because it seems silly to go back to sleep until the alarm goes off at 5, which after all that bundling and walking and unbundling is only 45 minutes away.  So there I am at 4 a.m. folding laundry and writing and making coffee and wondering what in the name of Sweet Dreams I am doing awake.  I have got to train myself to get in my bed at night. 
It’s gonna be a long day.
And so it goes.

My world wakes differently when there is school.  Walking out this morning the world is still cold and white but there are more lights one.  Cars and trucks are running in driveways waiting for passengers.  Today is the real start of the work week.  Yesterday was an extra gift, found at the bottom of the stocking and all the more exciting because it is discovered after the fact.  The dogs are impatient with my lack of fur.  I can’t convince them that I don’t have a hidden fur skin somewhere.  They scramble and wiggle by the door while I put on layer after layer of clothing to enjoy the morning.  I learned a long time ago that the trick to enjoying winter is giving up the fashion plate thing and dressing in a million layers.  By the time I get bundled and open the door the canine excitement is off the charts.  And out we bound – actually two of us bound.  One of us travels carefully up the back steps, testing for ice and slickness.  Those with four legs bound and romp and then – most of the time – come back and wait patiently for leashes.  They are learning that if they listen they get longer run around time but once we reach the corner all bets are off and leashes must be attached.  And it is in rounding that corner that the oddity appears.
There is only one one-way street in this village and if I lived on it I think I’d refuse to pay taxes.  There is no distinction between lawn and street.  Does the road crew forget Plum St. exists? (How could it?  The Village is only 2 square miles.)  Maybe no one that lives there has to leave for work in the morning? (Nope.  I know people who have to leave early in the morning.) Maybe there’s been a petition and Plum St. doesn’t want to be plowed and cleared? (Now there’s a stretch.)  Nope, I’ve got it.  The whole population of that street is a snow cult.  Once the rest of the Village goes off to work and school, a vast population of snow bunnies pour out of the windows and doorways and roll around naked in the snow.  Nope.  Wait.  I’ve really got it this time.  They keep penguins and polar bears as pets on that street.  They need the snow.  They love the snow, and the unplowed street and unshoveled walks.  Polar bears and penguins.  If I live on Plum St.  I can have one.  Awesome!

And so it goes.