Catching Up April 2025 part 4

April 27 was Tell a Story Day. I told the kids a story. I don't remember what story I told them but I did. It was probably another family history story. 

Wait. I remember. We started looking through pictures to find a baby picture of Jr. for seminary graduation. We found some pictures of Jeremy and me from when we were dating and told the kids some stories about hiking up Rock Canyon in the snow with my brother to get pictures.

Oh, good memories. And silly memories. You see where our kids get it?

I love that I've had Jeremy in my life longer than I haven't. I look forward to the time that I've been married to him longer than I haven't. It won't be long.

Jeremy also told the kids the story behind this photo he got of a black gibbon (at the Hogle Zoo while we were dating).

It was yawning.

 

April 28 was Terry Pratchett's Birthday. I continued to read Wyrd Sisters. The kids watched Going Postal.

It was also Blueberry Pie Day so I made Thronis's Blueberry Pie from The Fablehaven Cookbook. Yumm.

It was also Great Poetry Reading Day. I read a little bit of poetry.

Some More April Catch Up

So much catching up to do. Wish me luck.

Monday, April 27, was Babe Ruth Day. We had a little snack of Baby Ruth candy bars (even though Baby Ruth candy bars have absolutely nothing to do with the baseball player, Babe Ruth). Here's a fun picture of the baby with the Baby Ruth. He didn't get any, though.

Tuesday, April 28, was Great Poetry Reading Day. Jr. read a poem in a book then the other kids started reciting "The Jabberwocky."

Nichole (while holding a bag of Parmesan cheese): It's kind of hard to recite poetry when at the same time you're reading, "Shredded cheese the way it's meant to be," over and over again.

 

End of April- Springtime. Outside time. Time for playing with sidewalk chalk 

and going for walks at the park, especially at a park with a lot of trees on Arbor Day, April 30.

 P.S. Baby ducklings are sooooo cute. Spring!

Burns Supper

Robert Burns the Scottish poet was born on or around the 25th of January so in the UK it's popular to have a big celebration/supper on the 25th. The kids and I decided to celebrate and had a modified version for our purposes. We learned about suggested foods for a Burns Supper and ate what I made because it is not the time for me to go all out trying to figure out and make all these Scottish foods. 

And I definitely wasn't going to have us eat haggis. We did talk about "piping in the haggis," where a haggis is paraded in with bagpipe music. We put on some bagpipe music and paraded around ourselves. 

Notice Lucky's shirt is backwards because January 25 was also Opposite Day.

 

We talked about how after the haggis is brought in at a traditional Burns Supper, someone recites the Robert Burns poem, "Address tae the Haggis," with lots of gestures and enthusiasm. We watched a YouTube video of someone doing that and the kids thought it was both fun and disgusting with the squeezing out the innards of the haggis.

Another common part of a Burns Supper is a lot of toasts. So we put bread in our toaster oven and had "toast."

It was fun to learn something new and perhaps someday I'll try to make Scottish food. It's just not the season right now.

Bad Poetry Day 2014

Here's my poem this year:

Pick an object.
Write a bad poem.
Pick an object.
Write a bad poem.
Pick an object.
Write a bad poem
About it.


Here's Jeremy's:

My bad poem is called "Oink"
*Long pause*
And it goes like this...
*Long Pause*
Oink

Puppy Dog Eyes

Dog, 
Puppy,
Looking at me,
With those big puppy dog eyes.
I enter the room,
There you are.
Not long,
Off you go,
With those big puppy dog eyes.



It's Bad Poetry Day, August 18.  Above is my attempt at bad poetry.  I know.  I know.  It could be a lot worse.  I just didn't put that much effort into it.  Oh well.

I told the kids that it was bad poetry day and I wanted us to make some bad poems.  They were immediately concerned, thinking that bad poems use bad words in them.  No, no, no.  That's not what I meant.  I wouldn't put bad words into any poem.  So I tried to show them an example of a good poem versus a bad poem.
Good poem: (insert "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" here.  I didn't want to type it all out and you all know it)
Bad poem:
Twinkle twinkle, little star,
Don't fall.

Oh, okay.  So the kids were okay with that.  But they still thought bad poetry must mean talking about bad/mean things (like evil crystals or not liking people) or that bad poetry had to start with "Twinkle twinkle..."

Yeah, my kids are awesome.

I got the camera out and recorded the kids in action making bad poetry.  Here is one of Jr.'s:
Twinkle twinkle, little moon.
Don't shine.
Ever.  Ever.
Never ever.  Shine.
After night.  Before night.
And don't even be in space.
And go away from space.
And go away from Earth.

And Nichole was convinced poems have to rhyme (I remember thinking that as a kid).  Here's one of hers:
Twinkle twinkle, as the moon.
Do not fall at the doom.
You are evil.  So am I.
I do not like how much you are in the sky.
So, watch out for candy as you go by.
It's the evil thing as Earth is nigh.
United Earth.  United States.
All from the world, have an evil space.
To follow the evil crystal that curse you,
And that you may seek the special below you.
So your Earth or curse as it goes by
Watch out for purple, the evil crystal.  My.  By.
I lived on if you see an evil crystal in the sky.
Shoot it when it shoots you,
So as it falls you may capture it.
But don't touch it.  It will make you evil.
So as they tell this tale,
I'll tell you the weevil.

When Jeremy got home from work, he joined in the fun.  Here are a couple of his poems:
The words flowed around and through my head
like a buzzing fly attracted to my sweaty face
never settling, tickling the raw nerves of my creativity.
No matter how I wrestle with them, the participles dangle,
the adverbs are adverse, my objects have no direction,
and I find my adjectives are indescribable.
Until finally I yell at the confused forms swirling in my subconscious
saying: Bad poems! Bad! And I send them all to bed. (Of course they
come back out two minutes later asking for a drink of water).

Frog.
Sticky tongue frog.
If I stop licking you,
maybe my tongue won't be sticky.

Happy Bad Poetry Day from the Telfords!