Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Feliz Dia de Los Reyes Magos

Happy Epiphany!

This morning, before school, our plastic Magi and their plastic animals made it to the cardboard stable inhabited by the plastic Holy Family.  Tonight (after picking up the little one and making dinner and packing lunches but before heading out again to meet with parents about cookie season), we had our little family Epiphany party.  The Lone Star Girl made the cake last night - cinnamon.  We had it with Mexican Chocolate ice cream (more cinnamon!) and she found the baby so she was the Queen and I told her she had to make the cake again next year.  The girls opened their Epiphany presents - art supplies for the Lone Star Baby and a Buffy calendar for the Lone Star Girl.

When I got back from the cookie permission form signing and information session, I could not find our copy of Dance In The Desert, which I like to read on Epiphany, even though it is set somewhat later, during the Holy Family's flight to Egypt.  I guess I will need to get another copy before next Epiphany.  We just read regular bedtime stories instead:  Chrysanthemum, and we began Little House In The Big Woods, because Santa brought the Lone Star Baby the early years collection of Little House books for Christmas.  Pa is already skinning and smoking the deer.

4 comments:

Saints and Spinners said...

Here I am, rather belatedly. I started feeling odd on Epiphany, and by the next day was quite miserable with strep. Hiss boo. I'm on the recovery end, though, so I'm catching up on reading your blog.

I haven't checked yet, but I hope Dance in the Desert is still in print. I have a copy in storage somewhere, as well as The Sphinx at Dawn.

Chocolate cinnamon ice-cream? I want some!

We are in the middle of By the Shores of Silver Lake. By and large, I've been able to avoid the racial land-minds (or talk about what I'm not reading), but LHOTP is pretty wretched.

It's striking to me how much of LHITBW and Farmer Boy is comprised of work descriptions. People worked hard to put enough away for winter. A friend who watched the homestead reality tv show (what was it called?) said that someone came around to evaluate the wood that had been chopped by each family in order to survive the winter, and the guy who had chopped the most wood STILL did not have enough for winter.

Lone Star Ma said...

I'm sorry you are sick! I hope you feel better! I know this isn't the way it tends to work, but I have never gotten strep since I got my tonsils out when I was 4 or 5 years old, even when my whole family has had it. I seem to be immune now. I hope you can be soon!

Yes, I love the books but the people are definitely the products of their time (and I remember having to avoid lots of text when I read them to the LSG). Especially Ma. I understand her fear, but whoa. They surely did work hard, too. The LSG was only 4 when we read them and she wanted all of them, straight through. I doubt the LSB will make it past these first 5 this year. She'd probably be okay with Farmer Boy but I don't think the ones where they're grown would hold her attention. I was surprised her sister liked them.

I have a lovely non-fiction picture book (photos) about a modern family who traveled all over visiting Ingalls-Wilder landmarks.

Saints and Spinners said...

What is the book? I have Laura Ingalls Wilder Country, by William Anderson.

I know that people are products of their times, but the books were published in the 1930's. As hard as I found the racist parts of the book, it didn't even occur to me until reading commentary relatively recently what effect these books would have on Native children. When I worked in the libraries, I mentioned the books when people were looking for series chapter books without any caveats whatsoever. I wish I had been more aware then.

Lone Star Ma said...

Searching For Laura Ingalls.

Wow. I did not realize the books were published so recently. That does make a difference. I vaguely remember that she started writing as a not-young woman but I did not realize how old. Yuck.

Reading as an adult books remembered lovingly but hazily from childhood is sometimes a major bummer.