I admit to being a bit jealous of kids when it comes to summer reading. Libraries promote cool programs to encourage young readers to grab a book and read to earn rewards and prizes.
I read for the enjoyment of reading, yet even a sticker on my bookmark would be that much more fun.
Our local library must have heard my inner child for they are running a summer reading program for the kiddos and adults as well.
Fabulous options! Summer Reading began June 11th and out of the four books I’ve read so far I don’t quite complete a BINGO.
read for 20 minutes (that was easy) read a book outside (gotta get that selfie) recommend a book to someone you know (the hubs eagerly awaits for my recent reads) read a book by a new to you author (another easy) read while listening to ocean sounds (at night while read we drift off to sleep to gentle ocean waves from sleep app) share this BINGO with someone you know (the hubs might play) check out a book by a local author (why—that would be me…) read a book that became a movie or TV series (it might take me all summer to read Lorna Doone)
If I check out and listen to a music album I’ll have a BINGO!
Be right back…
How well would you do with a BINGO card? What can you mark off so far?
For those who follow my postings, you know I appreciate cows. Today is their day. Yup, July 13 is National Cow Appreciation Day.
To celebrate the cow here are a few facts:
DID YOU KNOW?
There are around 200,000 glasses of milk in a cow? That’s a lifetime estimate.
A mature cow weighs about 1,400 lbs, and stands about 5 feet tall.
A calf can walk within one hour of being born.
A Holstein cow’s spots are unique. No two cows have the same pattern.
Cows don’t sweat. They need to live in cool weather.
By hand you can milk about six cows in an hour or you can milk sixty cows with one person and fourteen machines.
Cows get really thirsty during the day. They drink close to thirty gallons worth of water, which is about a bathtub’s worth.
Cows can eat a lot as well. On a typical day a single cow can eat nine pounds of hay and thirty-five pounds of mixed grasses and grains. They also consume over twenty pounds of mixed grains, salt, vitamins, and minerals throughout the day. No wonder they need so much water!
Cows are boney. There are two hundred and seven bones in one cow. Humans have about the same amount of bones. Hmmm…
Bonus! Here are some cow jokes:
What’s green and black and white all over?
A field with cows.
What did Old MacDonald say when the cow stepped on his foot?
What did Old MacDonald say when the cows began to stampede?
“Aaugh, I’m having a herd attack!”
What did he say after the stampede?
“Cows should be seen and not herd.”
* How did the farmer divide up his herd of cows?
He decided between the calves and the calve-nots.
* What did the farmer say to the old cow?
“It’s time you retired. You’re pasture your prime.”
So today when you reach for that glass of milk or spoon up your yogurt or nibble a cheese slice or revel into your ice cream confectionery, salute the cow. The world would not be the same without this udderly marvelous animal.
When the Julius Caesar unit rolls around in sophomore English I ask what students know about the famous (or infamous) Roman. Their lack of knowledge is deplorable. Most think answering “salad creator” is going to win them points. It doesn’t. They are surprised, and some students think I’m joking when I trot out the fact the month of July is named or rather renamed for Julius Caesar.
Originally July was known as Quintilis, which was Caesar’s birth month. Quintilis means “fifth month” in Latin and in the Roman calendar that is where this month found.
Caesar was a man of action. Gaul is one example. When he wasn’t conquering countries and people he set about improving Roman life. The calendar is an example. It did need attention. The early Roman calendar had a glitch. Once every two years a month lasting 27 or 28 days would be added after February 23 to help even out accrued time. Caesar straightened this out and today’s calendar is pretty much the one he formalized 2000 years ago.
Whether July was renamed as a tribute to his leadership or as a nod to inventing the calendar requires further Googling.
Happy July. Stay cool. Watch out for stray sparkler flickers. Hydrate and wear sunscreen.
August—I barely got to know July. August is the wind down month of summer. July is mostly vacationing and relaxing and reading and visiting–lots of ongoing “ing” things in July.
August whispers “school” a little bit louder as each calendar day flips by. I like school, teaching, my students–I just like summer vacation to last a bit longer.
This month’s words represent an assortment of ideas related to the last month of summer.
ken: knowledge, understanding, or cognizance; mental perceptions (I have a ken that school is starting sooner than later at this point of summer).
tub-thump: to promote something or express opinions vociferously (There are those who tub-thump whether school should start in August or in September).
velitation: a minor dispute or contest (See above concerning school start times).
grok: to understand thoroughly and intuitively (This is from Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein–I grok that summer is special due to its ephemeral nature).
ferly: something unusual, strange, or causing wonder or terror (The August fair usually has a ferly–like those weird vegetables that show up in displays–you know, the zucchini that resembles Richard Nixon or the monstrously large rabbit in the 4H competition).
mump: to mumble; mutter (I’m trying not to mump about summer dissipating).
brontide: a rumbling noise heard occasionally in some parts of the world, probably caused by seismic activity (A brontide was reported last August on the 31 as families stampeded Walmart to purchase school supplies before started after Labor Day).
makebate: a person who causes contention or discord (Who wants to be the makebate who meets people in the store and says, “Only 9 days until our first staff meeting).
calescent: growing warm; increasing in heat (The first week of school usually produces calescent classrooms due to the school not bothering to install air conditioning because heat exhaustion helps retain information. At least that’s what the theory must have been when they built the school).
littoral: or or relating to the shore of a lake, sea, or ocean (This is not to be confused with “literally,” as in “I will literally be littoral, grabbing last minute beach time before school starts).
prima facie: plain or clear; self-evident; obvious (Yes, my denial of the inevitability of school starting soon smacks of prima facie realization).
ineluctable: incapable of being evaded; inescapable (The ineluctable red calender circles indicate the end of summer and the start of staff meetings).
fillip: anything that tends to rouse, excite, or revive; a stimulus (Labor Day weekend is definitely a fillip, in terms of celebrating one last weekend without grading essays).
rutilant: glowing or glittering with ruddy or golden light (those rutilant summer evenings after the last rays of the sun radiates through the trees–*sigh*).
totsiens: until we meet again; goodbye (See ya, summer–totsiens, for now).
And what summer-flavored word might have been your favorite? Pick two or three…
Among the summer events I look forward to, the street fairs, arts and craft shows, farmers markets and church picnics, are the concerts, the wee bit of culture our small town enjoys. And more than the concerts on my fave list is the annual Shakespeare in the Park.
As a proclaimed Bardinator, being able to watch a Shakespeare play is a treat. The bonus with this production is that it is outdoors, professionally performed, creatively produced, and free. All I need to provide is my camp chair.
This year’s production was Henry IV. I’m not too keen on the historical monarchy plays for the reason the names are difficult to keep track of, plus someone is always trying to bump off someone to get to the throne.
But it’s Shakespeare. I will muddle through and bring up my handy on-line Folger script to keep track. Shmoop helps a bit with its character and summary notes.
We arrived an hour early to peg out our spots and were intrigued to catch the last part of the belly dancer routine. Were there belly dancers during the Renaissance?
Didn’t matter, it was fairly entertaining. Hopes of getting some dinner at a food booth were dashed–no refreshments available. None. I noticed people had brought those rolling ice chests and picnic baskets. They’ve done this before.
The venue used to be across the street from our house, which made popping home for a quick snack quite handy.
The production has grown so much in popularity it has shifted to the town football stadium. Someone could have made some decent bucks opening up the concession stand. A play that starts at 6 pm should have some kind of food choices available. Just saying.
This year’s production was set during WWI and it was a dandy. Falstaff and Hal played off each well, and the comedy bits had enough slapstick to get even the kids laughing.
And that’s the best part of outdoor theatre–the cross section of audience. Everyone attends: Singles, couples, large families with wiggly toddlers, AARPers in wheelchairs, empty nesters, even a few teens.
We all laugh in the right places, cheer accordingly, and listen attentively during the serious bits.
This year I had to plead with the hubs to accompany me. He’s not much of a Henry fan either, but he knows I do enjoy Shakespeare and he does like hanging out with me. Win-win–mostly.
We lasted right up to where Hal, as mock king, tells Falstaff that he will disown him when the time comes. After that it got serious. Battles are dreary bits to watch, even Shakespeare battle. I would have stayed but the hubs handed me my casted-off sandals. I took the hint and we snuck off field.