Friday, January 9, 2009

A book that I should have written first...


Not a Stick
By Antoinette Portis Illustrated by Antoinette Portis

Antoinette Portis again captures the thrill of when pretend feels so real that it becomes real. With a stick in hand, the options are endless—whether it's conducting an orchestra, painting a masterpiece, or slaying a dragon—give a child a stick and let imagination take over and the magic begin.

Finally! I am so excited...Stick inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame

Stick Inducted into Toy Hall of Fame

Parents looking to rein in holiday spending on Wiis and other high-tech gadgets for their kids this year: take heart.
The stick - possibly the world’s oldest toy - was added Nov. 27 to the National Toy Hall of Fame, joining the likes of Barbie, Slinky, teddy bears, Mr. Potato Head and Play-Doh.
“The good thing about a stick is it’s limitless,” said Patricia Hogan, a curator for the Strong National Museum of Play in Rochester, N.Y., which houses the Hall of Fame. “Today, it’s a magic wand. Tomorrow, it’s a fishing pole.”
Wellington mom Kim Toohey said she isn’t surprised the stick was finally getting its due.
“I have three boys, and they played with sticks more than anything else we bought them,” she said. “It’s right up there with the box and the pots and pans.”
This isn’t just kid stuff. The second-largest children’s museum in the United States, and the only one dedicated specifically to the study of play, the Strong Museum is chartered by the New York Board of Regents and publishes a scholarly journal through the University of Illinois.
But outside of academia, it’s best known for housing the Toy Hall of Fame, which each year chooses a select few playthings for posterity.
Criteria include fueling imagination, according to the museum’s Hogan. The toy should also be part of the lives of many kids, preferably over several generations.
“The Hall of Fame is not suggesting you go out in the woods and wrap up a stick for a Christmas present,” said toy historian Tim Walsh. “But play can be found anywhere. Kids have lost some creativity in this high-tech generation.”
Jim Arpe, owner of Learning Express Toys of Palm Beach Gardens, laughed when told the humble branch had been honored in the Hall of Fame - but said it should be taken seriously.
“Kids will play and do a lot of different things that toy designers didn’t design a toy to do,” Arpe said. A stick, which can be anything from a light saber to a snowman’s arm, “is encouraging imaginative, unstructured play.”
Walsh said he is a big fan of the equally unassuming cardboard box - the only other toy not created by a toy manufacturer inducted into the Hall of Fame. That was in 2005. “Being a parent myself, we’ve all bought the $300 robotic toy and the kid just wants to play with the box it came in,” he said.
Shopping with her mother at the Wellington Mall, 8-year-old Alexis Pollak said the top thing on her wish list for Santa this year is a $250 motor scooter.
Alexis’ mother, Jennifer, said, “That motor scooter, it’s much more expensive than, say, a hula hoop or skates or stuff I got growing up. Now, we all go out and spend hundreds of dollars on toys that then just sit in our garage.”
Not always, though: Only slightly further down on Alexis’ wish list is a much simpler item: a yo-yo.
Of course, the stick probably won’t be showing up on your children’s Christmas or Hanukkah gotta-get lists. But it’s certainly much easier to find than that elusive Wii Fit this holiday season. “Inducting the stick shows fun can be had with the simplest things,” Walsh said. “You don’t need expensive, fancy electronic items.”

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Kayaking and the Buckeyes


I did not make it this year!

I love to take my Kayak to some of the home Buckeye games during the fall season. I was planning to go down to the Ohio State - Michigan game last saturday but...
Too damn cold!
I walked down to the crik behind my house at about 7:00 in the morning and there was ice clinging to both sides of the creekbanks. It was 31 degrees. I could have braved it...I had casually mentioned these plans to a few friends throughout the summer, hoping to get at least 4 or better yet 8 kayaks down there to form the "Block O" with the kayaks in the river. I wanted to brave it. I was the only one that was even considering it when the morning of The Game arrived. Then I looked at the Lazy Boy...the fire in the stove a cracklin', the dog waiting to lay in my lap, the frost on my windshield, the big screen TV calling me, among other things like not having to even get dressed for awhile. So I wussed out and stayed home next to the fire, dog and food.
I know what I missed though, revelers dropping me beers from the Lane Avenue bridge, getting a loud O-H from the banks of the Olentangy, me shouting and gesturing back I-O from mid river, an occasional frisbee or foam football being flung my way and friendly fans requesting my presence at thier tailgate party to share hot dogs, more beers and a quick game of cornhole! Always a blast. I can park near the river at Arc Industry at Dodridge, carry the kayak and my provisions through a small patch of woods by trail and put in just below a low head dam and the bike trail. I paddle down river about 3/4 mile to the stadium and I can position myself in the middle of the river with a good view of the JumboTron. To hear the roar of the crowd on that very still river is amazing. At the same time, I spot a large hawk in the tree on the opposite bank.
Here are a few photos from a previous game.













Monday, November 17, 2008

First Snow of the Season



I am going to count this morning's gentle snow as the first of the 2008-09 season. At home I had a measurable amount of snow on the grass and the trees were collecting the white stuff as well. I got such a smile on my face when I peered out the kitchen window to see all of the birds scrambling for position on the feeders against the serene white and evergreen backdrop of the conifers in my side yard.
I really liked this anthropologie catalog with the snowflakes made from what? Sticks!

Saturday, November 15, 2008

‘Dance of the Black Leaves’

By Bill



There is an annual event that occurs, usually in the first couple of weeks into November, that I hope you have witnessed at least once in your lifetime. It has made such an impression on me that I begin to anticipate this episode in the waning days of October. The proud trees are in their glory, the grass is as green as it is ever going to be and the birds above are just now thinking about migration.
I feel fortunate to live in the countryside where plants and animals catch my attention on a daily basis. At this point in the season it seems that they stand out in such solitary fashion in the open fields or along the wood line. I always notice the huge aging tree standing alone while showing off its magnificent form in the midst of so many acres of recently harvested farm land. I spy the fat groundhog on his hind legs surveying his surroundings from atop the knoll near the creek. Detecting motion in the distance, I catch a glimpse of the waving white flags belonging to the two Does just disappearing into the twilight as they bound back to the security of the wood. Watching the solo flight of a hawk soaring high above hunting grounds in such smooth circles has always caught my eye.
Driving home from work, my favorite miles are near my home, away from the busy highways and onto the tranquil hum of the two lane roads surrounded by farmed land. As I am driving I glanced, as I usually do, at the century-old farmhouse down the long lane surrounded by six large cottonwood trees. Something made me slow down and pulled me left into the driveway to get a closer look at the trees that were leafless just the day before. At first glance from the main road the trees were full once again, only now their leaves were now black! Half way down the quarter-mile lane I stopped my truck and got out. I first noticed the chatter, the unruly noise of so many speaking at the same time. Closing my door was the last sound that I heard for the next several minutes. Stone silence. The slamming of the truck door set in motion ‘the dance of the black leaves’. There were hundreds, no, no,… thousands of blackbirds that took flight at the exact same moment, swirling, diving, turning and twisting in concert with one another. I was in awe of this spectacle; nothing else was going on in my world apart from this hypnotic symphony being played out above me. As if completing their dress rehearsal, they soon returned to rest and perched in the same cottonwood trees around the abandoned farm house. They began the noisy discussion once again about when they would leave to go south for the winter.


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