This week, The Eight-Year-Old takes her first steps toward becoming a world-class literary tourist, cradles a crocodile, and shops for antiques.
Our mostly-weekly survey of the tidbits that cross The Eight-Year-Old’s desk. This week, we meet the not-so-newly discovered Hellboy dinosaur and mourn the loss of the world’s oldest living cat. The 8YO also reads Pioneer Cat by William H. Hooks, Call of the Wild: A Mutts Treasury by Patrick McDonnell, and The Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle.
Our mostly-weekly survey of the tidbits that cross The Eight-Year-Old’s desk. This week, an innovative animal shelter campaign that pairs Star Wars characters with adoptable future friends, a proto-star cluster out in space, and of course, more books about aliens and dragons.
The Eight-Year-Old’s school has been celebrating poetry all month. Yesterday was Poem in your Pocket day. The kids were asked to pick a poem, print or write it out, and carry it around in their pocket all day, reading it to everyone they met. The Eight-Year-Old picked “The Tyrannosaur” by Bill Watterson.
Our semi-weekly survey of the tidbits that cross the 8YO’s desk. This week, The Eight-Year-Old reads Toby Alone and Toby and the Secrets of the Tree by Toby Alone by by Timothee de Fombelle, and reads the next book in Lucy and Stephen Hawking’s middle grade science fiction series, George’s Cosmic Treasure Hunt.
This week, The Eight-Year-Old reads Mr. Pants: It’s Go Time! by Scott McCormick, I Survived the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 by Lauren Tarshis, Rescue Princesses #5: The Snow Jewel by Paula Harrison, and National Geographic’s Rocks and Minerals by Kathleen Wiedner Zoehfeld.
Our favorite four-year-old Norwood MA correspondent wrote us this week to ask whether Massachusetts had dinosaurs and, if so, where he could find them.
This past Christmas, Canelo did not knock over our Christmas tree once. (I know, shocking right? What sort of self-respecting cat is he?) However, he did…
Meant to post this during the not-polar-vortex last week (or was it the week before?), but you know, flu. Slowly catching up on things around here.…
On a recent trip to Field Museum, The Seven-Year-Old and I wandered into a tiny room downstairs that looks deceptively like a pleasant little reading nook. There’s a desk, a wall of butterflies, a collection of bugs trapped in amber, and rat-sized beetles. What are those things called?