So, here's a picture of the taconic sweater modeled by its recipient. I told Paige that she didn't have to keep it if she didn't like it, but she said that she did like it; she just didn't think it was very flattering. I know what she means. It's pretty yarn, but it and the sweater are a bit heavy. Why is Paige smiling so happily then. ..Because she's going camping at Pismo Beach tonight. The kids (not the teachers, boo hoo) have tomorrow off. iI's one of Paige's best friend's birthday, and one of her friend's mom's is taking (and staying with) a crew of six of them. They have the crazy idea that they'll be swimming, but unless it's a lot warmer over there than here, they'll barely feel like even having their suits on.
I have an English project that I assign every year to my juniors. I have them emulate Walt Whitman's poem A Child Went Forth. I'm not a huge "Uncle Walt" fan, but I do I love this poem. I have the kids replace his important language with their own, and they come up with their own unique and often beautiful poem. I've had some tearjerkers over the years because the kids often go all out for this project, and they're at that perfet age where they remember all of the kid stuff, but are teeterering on adulthood. They have to create webpages about their lives to go with the poem, and then we present them in the class. I've been meaning to share Paige's poem for quite a while mainly just to show off, and because any time I feel like she's an ungrateful, frustrating kid who hasn't appreciated her parents' near-obsession with making her life great, I read this, and I think that maybe we've done OK.
Most kids just give it the title "A Child Went Forth," but Paige called hers
THERE was a child went forth every day;
It's so full of familial allusions that it may not be an interesting poem to non-family members (so that means I put it here for you to read, Ann, since you're my only faithful family reader) but I love it, so I shared it.