• Recent Posts

  • Archives

  • Categories

  • Meta

Something from a Box

Posted on December 8, 2022 by susanrray

“Anything special you want to eat while you visit?” I asked two Grands who planned to stay overnight with Husband and me.

            Annabel tilted her head.  “How about Pop Tarts?”

            “For breakfast?” I asked.  Surely, my 11 and 13-year-old Grands wouldn’t choose something from a box over my pancakes.  I’ve made pancakes for my Grands’ breakfasts for longer than these two are old.

            I was relieved when Lucy said, “No, Gran.  We want pancakes for breakfast.  Pop Tarts can be snack.”  Both girls nodded.  Their blue eyes open wide.  Their blond hair shaking.

            I added Pop Tarts to my grocery list. “What kind?  Strawberry? Cinnamon?”

            “S’mores!  They’re the best!” said Lucy.

            “The ones with frosting,” Annabel added.

            I was stuck in the 1970s, probably the last time I bought Pop Tarts.   “You mean they have marshmallows and chocolate in them?  Doesn’t the frosting melt when they are heated in the toaster?”

            Again, those enthusiastic nods and the girls gave each other a high-five.

            I was shocked by the display of Pop Tarts at Food Lion.  Six feet long and seven shelves!  Obviously, Pop Tarts are a big seller to warrant such a so much space.  After I’d I counted more than twenty flavors, I wondered when Pop Tarts were first on shelves and how many kinds are available.

            In 1963, Kellogg’s chairman, Bill Lamothe, had an idea to make a breakfast toaster-ready rectangle that could go anywhere. He asked the Kellogg’s kitchen crew to ‘create an ingenious hack on toast and jam,’ according to poptarts.com.  The name Pop Tarts was inspired by the Pop Culture movement of the day, which some of us remember.

            When I suggested strawberry or cinnamon to my Grands, I remembered two of the four original flavors: strawberry, blueberry, apple currant, and brown sugar cinnamon. Frosting was added in 1967 and sprinkles in 1968 and by 1973, there were nineteen flavors which seems like enough choices, but the kitchen crew continues to create choices.

            There’s not a flavor list because the production of flavors changes during a calendar year, but there is something for everyone’s taste.  Traditional flavors are still available: strawberry, chocolate, grape, cherry, and cinnamon.  For those more adventurous, try Frosted Boston Creme Donut, Snickerdoodle, Lemon Cream Pie, Cookies and Cream, Red Velvet, or Apple Fritter.

            My Grands and I made a celebration out of our afternoon snack.  Hot chocolate with marshmallows – the more the better.  Warm, lightly toasted delicious S’more Pop Tarts.  

            We talked about real s’mores. “Remember that time in Colorado when we’d couldn’t build a fire to make s’mores?” Annabel asked.

            “It was really windy,” I said.

            “Was that when Mom and Uncle Eric roasted marshmallows over the stove?”  asked Lucy.  That was the time.  We reminisced and laughed. 

Next time, I think we’ll try Frosted Chocolate Fudge – Annabel says they’re better than S’mores.

Since my Grands talked and laughed while eating something from a box, I’ll gladly spend $3.69 for eight Pop Tarts.  Just don’t expect me to serve them for breakfast.

Advertisement

Filed under: Food, Grandchildren | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

Marvel at All Living Creatures

Posted on August 3, 2022 by susanrray

            Their noses were inches apart.  What was my Grand thinking as he looked into the eyes of a penguin at the Tennessee Aquarium?  Harrison, a juvenile Macroni penguin, seemed as mesmerized as Micah, age 8.  Where they were playing a game of Blink through the Penguin Rock exhibit’s thick glass. Who would blink first and move?

Finally, Harrison swam away.  My Grand turned toward me and said, “He liked me.”  

            Micah’s body touched the glass of the tank that holds the largest aquarium animals.  A Sand Tiger Shark swam toward Micah and he backed up.  After the shark’s nose skimmed across the glass, Micah stepped forward to meet a Whiptail Stingray.  It’s underside white body was wider than Micah’s outstretched arms and it flapped its fins to swim away.  Micah stood at attention waiting for the next animal to come close.  

            During a two-mile hike with five Grands, Daughter, and Daughter2 along a Colorado park trail, we stopped often.  “Look, Gran,” said Charlotte, age 7.  “It’s a lady bug.”  Charlotte had squatted low and she placed her hand on the ground.  The beetle crawled into her palm and we all marveled at its beauty, its brilliant red back with black spots. 

            As we walked, some of us ducked to avoid black and yellow swallowtails and all eight of us stopped to count how many small yellow butterflies flew above a stream.

Lucy and Annabel, ages 11 and 13 respectively, were in no rush at the Nashville Zoo at Grassmere.  The meercats scampered on the ground and some into holes; one stood at attention, as if posing.  These were the animals both girls wanted to watch first.

At the cougar exhibit, we saw these large cats stretched out perfectly still on rocks.  Husband, Lucy, and I were ready to move on so I said, “Annabel, I think they’re sleeping.” 

            “I know,” my Grand answered and didn’t move. When we finally walked away, I wondered how long Annabel would’ve watched these big cats sleep. 

            On that hot day last week we talked about how hot we were, how hot the zoo animals must be, and we understood why most hid underground or in the shade. “Except him and he might be dead,” I said and pointed to an earthworm on the stone path. Lucy carefully picked him up; he wiggled slowly in her hand.  She carried him to the grass covered ground and gently turned her hand so that he fell off.

            “You saved a life today, Lucy!” Annabel said.

            Just a few days before Annabel and I had read poems from Great Poems for Grandchildren.   “Like the poem we read last week.” I said.  “Hurt no living thing.”  I wish I could’ve quoted the next six lines, especially the last: ‘Nor harmless worms that creep.’

            “Nothing, Gran?” Lucy said with a smile.  She knows I swat flies and mosquitoes.

            One of my grandparent joys is watching my Grands marvel at all living creatures.  I do it every chance I get.

Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: , | Leave a comment »

One Night’s Adventures of Ralph S. Mouse

Posted on April 8, 2022 by susanrray

My Grand snuggled beside me on the couch, lay a book on my lap and asked, “Can we finish this book now?”

            I opened to the bookmarked page of Ralph S. Mouse by Beverly Clearly and began reading aloud in the middle of a chapter, the top of a page.  Micah nudged me. “Gran, it’s okay, but do you know we’ve already read this?”  It had been three weeks since we last read about Ralph.  How could Micah remember?

            If you have read one of the three Ralph books, you know that Ralph is an unusual mouse.  He had listened to so many children and watched so much television that he learned to talk, and he rode a motorcycle that was propelled by his voice, “pb-pb-b-b.”

            Ralph lived at a hotel where Ryan, the young son of a housekeeper, was his best friend and confidante.  Ralph became frustrated with his cousins because they begged for motorcycle rides and were leaving signs of a mice infiltration at the hotel so he convinced Ryan to take him to school.  Ryan’s classmates discovered Ralph.  He had to escape a maze they created, avoid being seen by the school custodian, and deal with the class bully who smashed Ralph’s motorcycle.

            Micah remembered that we’d read about the motorcycle being destroyed.  As we continued reading, Ralph was given a sports car, a Laser XL7, but it didn’t move by pb-pb-b-b.  Ralph was told that he had to make a sports car noise to make it move.

            “Vroom!!” The car rolled across the floor.  My Grand clapped.  When the car needed to move backwards, Micah read the word much easier that I did, “Moorv.”   Micah said, “Stop!” He ran upstairs, came back, plodded down beside me, and ran his red Hot Wheelssports car along his leg while I read the last pages of Ralph S. Mouse.

            After brushing his teeth, putting on his pajamas, and snuggling under the covers, Micah asked, “Will you tell me a purple cow story?”   A story that I’d make up as I told it.   

            Purple Cow, tired after a day of picking grass in the pasture and playing outside, lay down on the straw covered floor in her barn.  She heard a noise, a squeaking noise.  My Grand grinned and whispered, “It was Ralph.” 

            I continued, “Purple Cow looked around, but she couldn’t see anyone or anything.  She asked, ‘Who’s there?’”

            My Grand raised his hand.  “Stop, Gran. I’ll be Ralph.”  Oh, the conversation between Purple Cow and Ralph!  They talked about what they’d done that day, the places they’d been, and what they liked to eat.  When Purple Cow said it was time to sleep, Ralph asked if she’d forgotten that he was nocturnal.

Purple Cow didn’t understand so Ralph explained the meaning of nocturnal.              In several columns, I’ve written about Heart Tugs, those times when heartstrings tighten and I want to imprint t

Filed under: Books, Grandchildren | Tagged: , , , | Leave a comment »

Catching More Heart Tugs

Posted on September 15, 2021 by susanrray

It’s time to pull out my folder labeled ‘Heart Tugs’ to remember when heartstrings tighten.  Those times amid the busyness of a day – a brief moment, a single sentence, or an experience that grows fonder as time passes.

            When my Grand was eight years old, she spent a lot of time playing in the dirt.  “See these two worms, Gran? I saved them from the driveway.” she said.  “They really like me, but they can’t live with me so I’m putting them in water and they’ll be happy.”  She put the worms that lay curled in her hand in a mudpuddle and used a stick to stir a smaller mudpuddle.

            “I made chocolate milk.  Want to tase it?” Ruth asked.  I shook my head.  “I did and it’s disgusting!  Now I’m going to make a pancake.”  My Grand held a palm size flat rock in one hand and with the other drizzled thin mud.  “That’s chocolate sauce. It’s delicious!”  Her giggle made me laugh.

            Seven of our eight Grands request pancakes for breakfast when they spend the night with Husband and me. Most remind me to add sprinkles or chocolate chips, but one always says, “Just plain.  No sprinkles or anything.”  And each chooses favorite pancake shapes:  stars, bears, flowers, or hearts.  When a friend gave me silicone ring shapes twelve years ago, I didn’t know a shaped pancake tastes better than a round one. 

            Grand #1 is 16 and his breakfast choice has always been bacon and eggs.  Scrambled eggs topped with melted American cheese and crisp bacon.  “These eggs are better than Mom’s, but it’s not her fault,” David said last week.  “Cooking eggs for all of us (his parents and four siblings) is harder than cooking just for me.”   

            I knew 6-year-old Jesse was up because I heard his footsteps in the playroom which is directly above my bedroom.  The clock said 5:50, an hour or so before I usually get out of bed.  I stumbled to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, walked up the stairs, and then watched my Grand play. 

            “Look Gran, I sorted them,” he said.  Bristle blocks, that his mother had played with when she was a kid, were in groups by color.  “Did you notice that all the big square blocks are red and the little ones are green?”  I nodded.  “And, look, the wheels are the only circles so they’re over here.”  He pointed to six wheels. 

            Jesse stuck two red blocks together and added wheels near the bottom edge.  “I’m making a car,” he said.  He made a car, a house, a tall tower that fell several times, but stayed together.  He talked non-stop telling me who drove the car, who lived in the house, and he laughed every time the tower fell. 

            As we walked down the steps, Jesse said, “Can I have chocolate chip pancakes?  And a heart and a star?”  Yes, every time, anytime.

            Heart Tugs.  I’m catching all I can.

Filed under: Heart Tugs | Tagged: , | Leave a comment »

When Grands Visit

Posted on October 25, 2019 by susanrray

One of the greatest joys of being a grandparent is when Grands visit, especially without their parents.  That’s when we grandparents can spoil, and our children can’t tell us that they never got to do the things the grandchildren are doing. 

            Husband and I invited five Grands, ages 5-14, to spend a few days with us while Daughter and Son 2 took a mini-vacation.  We see these Grands often and one spends the night with us each week so we know their likes, dislikes, and personalities.  We also know their energy levels and melt-down points.

            Our Grands took over the second floor.  Beds and blow-up mattresses were claimed or assigned.  Honestly, when one Grand spends the night, everything is packed in a small backpack. For four nights, they brought backpacks, duffle bags, armloads of stuffed animals, books, iPads, reading lights, four scooters, a basketball, and a bicycle.  

            Husband and I had a plan: divide and enjoy.  (Yes, divide and conquer came to mind, but joy was our goal.)  Husband took three to the gym to play basketball; I took two shopping at a store where $1 buys a treat.  Some played UNO and Qwirkle.  Three made flour and salt play dough and one spent thirty minutes adding food coloring to get the perfect purple, which eventually became the perfect chocolate brown.  And each had a thirty-minute Wii (video games) playing time. Day 1 was a success.

            Day 2 we took a field trip to the Chattanooga Creative Discovery Museum. Early morning, I packed breakfasts and snacks while older Grands helped the youngers dress and get out the door into the van.  As we traveled all were quiet, listening to an audio book and munching on biscuits and grapes and drinking juice.

            The museum was packed with activities for all ages and people of all ages.  Again, Husband’s and my plan to divide and enjoy worked.  Across the way I held up two fingers; he’d held up three.  Everyone within sight.  Another good day ended when we arrived home and our Grands piled out of the van and grabbed scooters to ride and balls to throw for outside burn off energy time.

            I planned Day 3 to relax:  play games, read, make peanut butter play dough, and maybe cookies.  I realized it’d be a long day when our Grands energy levels registered at the top of the chart and mine was barely above 0.  The Grands chose candy as Bingo prizes; that was fine with me.  The day ended with pizza and a movie. I was the first one asleep.

            By 9:00 a.m. on Day 4, one Grand had her belongings packed and asked, “When will Mom and Dad be home?”  This last day passed quickly.  After suppertime we loaded my van to take our Grands and all their stuff home to their parents.  As I backed out of our driveway, Micah, the youngest yelled, “Gran!”  and then in the sweetest voice he said, “Gran, I love you.” 

            Suddenly, I wasn’t so tired.  So harried.  Like I said, it’s a joy to have Grands visit.

####

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: , | Leave a comment »

Micah Spends the Night

Posted on February 9, 2019 by susanrray

“Is it my turn to spend the night?” Micah, age four, asked as I arrived at his family’s house. He’s the youngest of five Grands who take turns weekly spending the night with Husband and me. Micah wrapped his arms around my knees and looked up, “Gran, can I go home with you and stay tonight?”

His turn would be the next week. We counted the days. Seven. The next day Micah asked, “Is it my turn tonight?” When you’re four years old, seven days is an eternity.

On the morning of Micah’s overnight visit, Daughter sent a text, “Thought you’d want to know that Micah packed his bag before breakfast to go to your house. It’s beside the back door.”

That afternoon when I picked up Micah, he jumped down his back porch steps and said, “Let’s go!” His bulging black backpack was strapped over his shoulders. He carried a Lightning McQueen stuffed red car and a stuffed monkey and declined my offer to carry anything for him.

“Micah,” his mom called from the back door, “did you pack pajamas?” He did. “Underwear?” Yes. “Clothes for tomorrow?” Yes. “How about a good-bye hug?” Micah, already buckled by a seat belt in my van, held out his arms toward her and she came to him.

At our house, Micah dumped his backpack and “stuffies” beside the twin bed that he’s claimed as his and headed to the playroom. His mother’s and uncle’s plastic Fisher Price playhouse and garage are favorites. My Grand lay on his stomach and parked small cars on the top level of the garage and turned a handle to rotate the cars.

These toys entertained for a while, then Micah asked, “Can I play on the iPad?” A racecar game is his favorite and he shouted as his red car passed others, “Vroom! Faster! I won!”

After supper, Micah asked, “Can I take a play bath?” I agreed and said he could wash too, but he explained, “It’s just a play bath. No washing.” By the time my Grand decided he was finished playing, the bath water was cold, and all his body had been under soapy water he’d created by scrubbing rubber ducks so his play bath turned into a soaking clean bath.

Micah threw many books onto his bed and climbed on it. “Sit here, Gran. Let’s read,” he said and he scooted to one side. We agreed on three books and I read them as we sat together.

My Grand clutched his sleeping friends, monkey and Lightening McQueen, and snuggled under the covers. We named good things that had happened that day and said goodnight prayers. “Will you scratch my back?” Micah asked.

Fifteen minutes later, I stopped moving my fingers across his back, and Micah half-opened one eye just to let me know he wasn’t asleep. Soon he was.

If I hadn’t spent nights alone with my grandmother, I might not understand Micah’s eagerness to stay with Husband and me when we don’t do anything special. But I did and I do.

####

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: | 1 Comment »

Not a Typical Quiet Morning

Posted on August 16, 2018 by susanrray

My early morning routine was disrupted last week. Most mornings I awake early, drink a cup of coffee alone, and gather thoughts of inspiration. An hour that’s all mine. And I need it.

But Tuesday morning at 6:05 a.m. as I shuffled from my bedroom to the kitchen past the upstairs stairwell, I hear a soft voice say, “Hi, Gran.” Two Grands, who live an airplane ride away, held hands and stood halfway down the steps. Neil, age 5, wore his Super Hero pajamas and grinned from ear to ear. Three-year-old Ann sucked hard on her pacey (big girl pacifier) and rubbed her eyes. Their big brother and parents were still asleep.

“Good morning, Neil. Good morning, Ann. Come on down,” I whispered.

Neil let go of his sister’s hand and said, “Ann, be careful. Hold the rail.”

My Grands walked slowly. I held my arms wide and they nuzzled their heads on my shoulders. Those few moments froze in my mind, my heart. I hugged until my Grands wiggled from my arms. “Go potty and then we’ll sit on the front porch and drink juice,” I said. Both raced toward the bathroom and it amused me that being first is important.
“I’ll go first Ann. I’m bigger,” Neil said just before he closed bathroom door.

These two Grands didn’t know about my pass-through kitchen window that I wrote a column about a few weeks ago. “Come to the kitchen. I have something to show you,” I said. Two small plastic glasses, 1970s vintage Snoopy and Strawberry Shortcake, and my coffee cup were on a tray.

“Can we take juice outside?” Neil asked looking out the window at the table on the front porch.

I raised the window that didn’t have a screen. “How about we set the tray on the porch stool and not carry anything outside?” My Grands clapped their hands.

Ann started toward the front door. Neil grabbed her arm. “Wait. How about we climb out the window?” he asked and looked up at me with his eyes open wide. I nodded and Neil ducked his head under the window. “Watch me, Ann. You’re next.”

Sitting together on the front porch, Ann, Neil, and I talked about sounds. Trucks on a big highway. Birds chirping. We saw dog shapes and circles in white fluffy clouds. Neil told about the big ugly monster that was in his bad dream. Ann said she just slept.

Son joined us at the table. “Daddy, guess what? Me and Ann didn’t walk out here,” Neil said.

“We climbed!” Ann said. And, my Grands raced into the house, their daddy followed to raise the window, and Ann and Neil climbed out again.

So upon rising that day, I immediately kicked into second gear to pour juice and enjoy two young Grands. Later, I hit high gear and stirred pancake batter. I’d trade my normal quiet morning of solitude for a morning with Grands anytime. Any day.

####

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

Two Day Gift

Posted on December 7, 2017 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2017-12-07 at 8.03.09 AMNot all gifts are wrapped in shiny red paper. Not stuffed inside a gift bag. In September, I called Son and offered that he and Daughter 2 (some say daughter-in-law) take a mini-vacation while Husband and I stayed at his house. An offer of two nights away from home, from their three children, ages six, four, and two, and their dog, Baxter. A time to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

So in November on a Saturday afternoon, Son and Daughter 2 kissed and hugged Dean, Neil, and Ann and said, “Bye and be good. Do what Pop and Gran tell you and we’ll see you Monday.”

As Son and Daughter 2 drove out of their driveway, two-year-old Ann wailed for thirty seconds and said repeatedly, “Bye, bye, Mommy.” Husband, Dean, and Neil were having a snowball fight, throwing baseball size white balls of yarn at each other. I hugged Ann. She wiped her arm across her wet nose, and then said, “Let’s play, Gran!”

These three Grands were all ours. Time to play and read and take walks and build wooden cars. To giggle and sing silly songs and tell Purple Cow bedtime stories. To wrap small clean, wet bodies in towels and help wiggle into pajamas. To rub backs at bedtime and cuddle in bed early mornings. To bend the house rules a bit and bribe with Skittles.

Dean, a first grader, repeated my plan to his younger siblings. “Gran said she’d put Skittles in a jar when we did what we’re ‘posed to and we can eat ‘em after supper. I’ll count ‘em and give ‘em out.”

Co-commander Dean asked, “So how many Skittles is that?” after all 60 of the yarn snowballs had been picked up. And he followed me to the kitchen to be sure I put five in the jar.

The Skittle jar sat beside the list of suggestions and advice Son and Daughter 2 had written. Schedules. Neighbors’ phone numbers. Bedtimes. Meal menus. Favorite play activities. TV cable channels. Baxter’s feeding directions. How to cook a hot dog so Dean would eat it. Snacks Ann likes, but Neil hates. What to pack in Dean’s school lunch bag.

Every moment with our Grands wasn’t perfect. When Ann and Neil had breakdowns, Husband and I fumbled for reassuring words, but we knew hugs smooth toddlers. And we struggled through Monday morning to get Neil to preschool and Dean to the school bus stop.

After her brothers had left for school, Ann held a play phone to her ear and said, “Hi Mommy. Uh, huh. Yes. Yes. No. Pop and Gran. Yes. Bye, Mommy.” She ran to me, threw her arms around my neck, and said, “Love you Gran.”

I cherish the time that Husband and I had with Dean, Neil, and Ann. That’s the gift. Our Grands’ parents gave us their children for two days and nights. They trusted us. And they left another gift: detailed lists so we didn’t have to call them, not even once.

####

 

Filed under: Gifts, Grandchildren, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

You Let Them Do What?

Posted on September 26, 2017 by susanrray

Who serves ice cream for breakfast? Who lets children jump on furniture? Who watches the same movie fifteen times? Who pays children for jobs that don’t even need doing?

We grandparents plead guilty. Not all grandparents to all charges, but some.

I asked Facebook friends what do grandparents let grandchildren do that they as children weren’t allowed to do. And friends responded.

So many breakfast choices. Caroline’s grandfather served ice cream topped with Fruit Loops and told her mother that they ate cereal.   Nell’s grandchildren eat fudge for dessert after breakfast and her own children never heard of breakfast dessert. Karen’s mother made chocolate pie and chocolate pudding for her grandchildren’s breakfasts. Grandparents offer sugar-coated cereal to grandchildren and parents say it wasn’t even in the house when they were young.

Milkshakes with sprinkles are a meal and one grandmother even serves ice cream to her grandchildren for any meal – not as dessert, as the meal. Sara’s mother keeps mini ice cream sandwiches and brown cow ice cream bars, just for the grandchildren. And if grandchildren don’t like what is served for supper, they can refuse and choose something else.

Laura’s parents give her middle-school age children chocolate candy every afternoon when they pick them up after school. Laura said, “They create nothing jobs and overpay the kids for the made-up jobs.” Looking back, Laura should’ve known what to expect. When her firstborn was two, he colored on her parents’ white bookshelf and television screen, and her parents said, “It’s okay. If it doesn’t come off, we’ll buy new ones.”

Grandchildren jump on beds and if they jump onto a CD player, it’s okay.   One grandmother admits that she protected an antique coffee table and her daughters weren’t allowed to put their feet on it. But her grandchildren sit in small chairs and eat at that table, with placemats, of course.

Brenda admitted that her grandson eats what he wants, when he wants, goes to bed when he wants, chooses television programs and movies, and has her undivided attention. And grandparents are shoppers. When they shopped, Deloris’s grandmother always bought her a new outfit and any toy she wanted. Grandparents take gifts to grandchildren every time they visit.

To go one generation further, one great-grandmother didn’t allow her children in the fancy living room. And when grandchildren opened their Christmas gifts in that room, no food or drinks were allowed. But that room is the great-grandchildren’s gymnastics room where they turn somersaults and pretend to be airplanes. And it’s okay to eat cookies and drink juice in the living room.

So what do parents think of grandparents relaxing the rules? Here are my two favorite comments: I didn’t get to eat ice cream for breakfast, but I’m happy Mom lets my kids! Let it be said, I fully intend to do the same when my tribe grows up and brings me some grandbabies!

All parents may not agree, but I hope my Grands’ parents do.

####

Filed under: Grandchildren, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

Eclipse Connects Generations

Posted on August 16, 2017 by susanrray

 “What’s that book about?” I asked my 10-year-old Grand who held a book in her lap as I drove her home from my house.

            “The big extraordinary event,” Lou said.

I frowned. “What big extraordinary event?”

“Gran, the one we’ve been talking about.”

“The solar eclipse?” Lou nodded. “May I read your book when you finish?” I asked.

“Sure, but there are three kids telling their stories. Think you can keep up with three different stories?” Lou asked and said that the kids end up at the same place to watch the eclipse.

While reading Every Soul a Star by Wendy Mass, a fictitious novel for students in grades 5-9 and written in 2008, I met Ally, Bree, and Jack, all young teens. Ally’s parents bought Moon Shadow campground because they knew the two-mile campground would be the only patch of land in the United States that would be smack dab in the path of the Great Eclipse. Bree, who was sure she was switched at birth because the rest of her family was science nerds and she pondered ‘If I’m beautiful and no one sees me, am I still beautiful?’ After failing science in school, Jack chose an adventure at Moon Shadow camp over summer school to earn a passing grade.

Ally explained Nature’s Greatest Coincidence. So called because the moon and sun look the same exact size, but the sun is 400 times bigger and 400 times farther away from earth so they appear the same to us. When the moon covers the sun, the air is like dusk, but with an unfamiliar greenish-yellowish cast.

Baily’s Beads were described as tiny balls forming a glowing circle around the black sun like a necklace of pearls and as the last bit of sunshine passes through the deepest valley of the moon, a huge diamond ring formed. The moon’s shadow passed quickly.

In the book, Ally was amazed by the solar eclipse at totality: the pearly white corona suddenly streams out from behind the dark moon in all directions, pulsing, looping, swirling, glowing, a halo of unearthly light. Bree screamed as the moon’s shadow zoomed like a wall of ghosts, and she saw streams of light fanning out behind the darkened sun like the wings of a butterfly. Jack was shocked by the fact that a fiery circle was the only thing that proved the sun still existed, like a big eye beaming down.

“I finished your book,” I told my Grand. “I learned a lot about the eclipse we’ll see next week.”

“Really?” she said. “I never read the fact stuff. Not the introduction or author’s notes. I just read the story.”

“You don’t remember how the characters described the eclipse?”

Elise giggled before saying, “I remember how one threw up all the time! That was funny. Gran, you should read other books that Wendy woman wrote. Some of the same characters are in them.” She told me about two other books.

It’s good when books and events, like Nature’s Greatest Coincidence, connect generations.

 

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: , , | 2 Comments »

Next Page »