Winter Walk

Northfield’s not short on great official and unofficial traditions, but the Winter Walk is one of the best. This is the third year that we’ve attended, and the first year that everybody walked the whole time (except for the short ride on a wagon pulled by two giant Percherons). This photo shows that the girls enjoyed it – and at this point, they had only had one cookie!

Winter Walkers
Winter Walkers

Kindergarten Science

Those teachers at Sibley Elementary are smuggling all kinds of science into kindergarten. This week, Julia has had three days of science – using various kinds of lenses on Tuesday, experimenting with magnets on Wednesday, and measuring objects today.

Not to say that all of this is having its intended effect or anything, but today at breakfast, Julia told me that when she grows up she wants to become an “outside scientist.” And a famous painter, and the co-owner (with Genevieve) of an ice cream shop, which they’ll brilliantly name the “Tassava Sisters Ice Cream Shop.” That’s a license to print money, which they can then use on their painting and outside science.

Anyhow, the best parts of the science days so far have been the worksheets – or can I call them “lab reports”? On Tuesday, she brought home a list of “observing tools” she’d used:

  • magnafid glas
  • microscop
  • banokyl [binoculars]

On Wednesday, she brought home a list of things which stuck to the various magnets:

  • paprklip
  • sisrs
  • can

and a list of things that didn’t:

  • stik
  • lef
  • ligkin logs

Today, she used special “inch blocks” to measure various objects:

  • toy
  • chip
  • lego
  • plain [a toy airplane]
  • pensl
  • strow

While this preliminary work is, indeed, quite promising, I would recommend that the investigator work closely with a proofreader and assessment expert as she makes plans to extend this pilot project.

Winter Poem

A poem in the hopes of winter…

“Untitled [Toward night]”
by Kevin Goodan

Toward night, frail flurries of snow. Fingernails of willows scratching frost from the edges of the kitchen window where I watch the field beyond the fence where once corn was taller than a man can reach but now I gaze into the kitchen of the next farmhouse and watch the man with a bad leg hobble from sink to table to feed his mother with a spoon. I keep the lights off and study snow to augur from the flakes what fortune I may. The furnace does its duty and cars pass, swirls of flurry captured in fading prisms of red. If I stood on the road it would glow and crackle beneath my feet. The air would be muted, my own breath sounding as though it came from another body, a shadow leaning faintly toward me as though to whisper any comfort. Animals would unshelter themselves to stand waiting at the fence. Snow would settle everything. I would cup my hands, realizing I had become what it was I wanted to be. The body beside me would breathe on. The two of us.