So I'll tell you, I started the day by helping my vet castrate a cat on the tailgate of her pickup. It's possible I'm a redneck. The cat did well, though his yowls sounded remarkably like an air-raid siren. (Yes, of course we sedated him--the vet tests to see whether he's sedated enough by yanking out the hair covering his balls. If he yowls--he did--he gets another dose.) My job was to hold the cat still, which wasn't at all difficult once he was appropriately dosed. The procedure was simple enough that I'm pretty sure I could do it myself, next time (though my husband politely requests me not to try).
I was at the National Council of Teachers of English conference in St. Louis the past few days. It's a really nice conference; I'm always glad to go. I felt a little more anxious about my NCTE panel presentation than I have other presentations this year, because this one was my idea. I came up with the topic, recruited the other presenters and the moderator, convinced my publisher to pay for not only my trip but also the moderator's trip, wrote the proposal, and made what slides we had. But I probably needn't have worried, because the other people involved--Andria Amaral, who is a youth librarian in Charleston, SC., and was our moderator, and writers Lynda Mullaly Hunt, Matt de la Pena, and Kat Yeh, are all professionals who also cared deeply about our topic, which was, "Hope for Kids from Hard Places: How the Right Books Can Be Both Windows and Mirrors."
We all spoke from the heart on this one. Teachers took notes. People asked questions. It was super.
Then I came home to 15 boxes of books for my library project. Four more arrived this afternoon, plus my vet gave me books.
After lunch I took one box of books to the Boys and Girls club. I had four boxes for Girls Inc., where I'm revamping the entire library, and I had a box in the car for the elementary school I support, but I never got there, because I ended up spending most of the afternoon at Girls Inc. I showed you in one of my last posts some of the ancient books I weeded last week. Today I removed about as many books as I brought, including about 20 "inspirational romances" which probably didn't have explicit sex in them but were clearly intended for adults. I weeded broken damaged books. I weeded a book written in Latin (I'm not kidding.). I left a lot of grotty paperbacks because honestly the Girls Inc. people were being remarkably sporty about my saying, "all these just need to be thrown away," and I figure we need to take it one step at a time. I've only touched about a third of the shelves so far, so there's plenty of weeding yet to do. But for the first time there are actual YA books on the shelves. For the first time there are graphic novels. For the first time there are picture books that are less than 20 years old AND don't feature movie characters.
After the success of last week's excursion about a dozen girls wrote wish lists for me. I've incorporated them into my Amazon wish lists--but if you're weeding your own shelves, please know we'll take about any series books, including Harry Potter (they have book one, but not two, three...) Easy readers would also be great--I haven't touched that section yet.
And if you're sick of hearing about my book project, just go read the first paragraph again. Then I'll tell you that Bucky, our slightly older barn cat, is best friends with Alex, the cat who was castrated today. When Alex started yowling Bucky grew very concerned and had to be locked in the tack room for the rest of the procedure. Afterwards I took the sleeping Alex, wrapped in a clean towel, and laid him on a tack trunk in the tack room. When I went to check on him a few minutes later, he was laying on his back, eyes open, dazed, while Bucky stood over him, whapping his face with both front paws, over and over, whap-whap-whap-whap-whap. I'm still not sure if he was just beating up on Alex because Alex couldn't fight back, or if he was acting out of concern: "Alex! Alex, talk to me, baby! What'd they do to you?"
By afternoon the drugs had worn off. Alex, Bucky and the others ate ravenously as they'd all been NPO for Alex's sake. It's all good--less traumatic than dragging poor Alex to the vet's office. It would have been air raid sirens all day.
I was at the National Council of Teachers of English conference in St. Louis the past few days. It's a really nice conference; I'm always glad to go. I felt a little more anxious about my NCTE panel presentation than I have other presentations this year, because this one was my idea. I came up with the topic, recruited the other presenters and the moderator, convinced my publisher to pay for not only my trip but also the moderator's trip, wrote the proposal, and made what slides we had. But I probably needn't have worried, because the other people involved--Andria Amaral, who is a youth librarian in Charleston, SC., and was our moderator, and writers Lynda Mullaly Hunt, Matt de la Pena, and Kat Yeh, are all professionals who also cared deeply about our topic, which was, "Hope for Kids from Hard Places: How the Right Books Can Be Both Windows and Mirrors."
We all spoke from the heart on this one. Teachers took notes. People asked questions. It was super.
Then I came home to 15 boxes of books for my library project. Four more arrived this afternoon, plus my vet gave me books.
After lunch I took one box of books to the Boys and Girls club. I had four boxes for Girls Inc., where I'm revamping the entire library, and I had a box in the car for the elementary school I support, but I never got there, because I ended up spending most of the afternoon at Girls Inc. I showed you in one of my last posts some of the ancient books I weeded last week. Today I removed about as many books as I brought, including about 20 "inspirational romances" which probably didn't have explicit sex in them but were clearly intended for adults. I weeded broken damaged books. I weeded a book written in Latin (I'm not kidding.). I left a lot of grotty paperbacks because honestly the Girls Inc. people were being remarkably sporty about my saying, "all these just need to be thrown away," and I figure we need to take it one step at a time. I've only touched about a third of the shelves so far, so there's plenty of weeding yet to do. But for the first time there are actual YA books on the shelves. For the first time there are graphic novels. For the first time there are picture books that are less than 20 years old AND don't feature movie characters.
After the success of last week's excursion about a dozen girls wrote wish lists for me. I've incorporated them into my Amazon wish lists--but if you're weeding your own shelves, please know we'll take about any series books, including Harry Potter (they have book one, but not two, three...) Easy readers would also be great--I haven't touched that section yet.
And if you're sick of hearing about my book project, just go read the first paragraph again. Then I'll tell you that Bucky, our slightly older barn cat, is best friends with Alex, the cat who was castrated today. When Alex started yowling Bucky grew very concerned and had to be locked in the tack room for the rest of the procedure. Afterwards I took the sleeping Alex, wrapped in a clean towel, and laid him on a tack trunk in the tack room. When I went to check on him a few minutes later, he was laying on his back, eyes open, dazed, while Bucky stood over him, whapping his face with both front paws, over and over, whap-whap-whap-whap-whap. I'm still not sure if he was just beating up on Alex because Alex couldn't fight back, or if he was acting out of concern: "Alex! Alex, talk to me, baby! What'd they do to you?"
By afternoon the drugs had worn off. Alex, Bucky and the others ate ravenously as they'd all been NPO for Alex's sake. It's all good--less traumatic than dragging poor Alex to the vet's office. It would have been air raid sirens all day.
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