Books for kids, teens, & those who are young at heart

Author: Katie L. Carroll (Page 136 of 142)

Viewer Discretion Advised

I always chuckle when that “Viewer Discretion is Advised” warning airs at the beginning of a TV show. I can’t help but think Duh! Shouldn’t viewers always use discretion when watching a TV program? And can anyone really indiscriminately watch TV anyway?

Maybe if people used discretion (defined as “the power or right to decide or act according to one’s own judgement”) in all aspects of their lives, the world would be a better place. And if someone fails to use discretion, then maybe that right should be taken away from him and we should let someone else use discretion on his behalf.

Some of my favorite programs have these warnings (Family Guy and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia), but some programs that should include this warning don’t. I’m not sure if this episode of How It’s Made had a viewer warning, but this clip definitely should. It was very unsettling. It made me laugh, which immediately made me feel bad, and then it kind of made me want to cry! You’ll just have to watch it to see what I mean.

On a Power Trip with my Snow Village

While I was originally—as an eight-year-old—attracted to the bright colors and shiny finish of the Snow Village, I find—as an adult—there is another appeal to having it: control. I have all the power in my village. I decide where all the buildings go, where the people go…I’m in charge of everything. Bwahaha!!! (That’s evil laughter in case you couldn’t tell!)

This doesn’t really surprise me. As a kid, I used to play with the vintage Fisher Price Little People. Remember how the people had no hands or legs. We had a school, a castle, houses, a barn, cars, all kinds of things. (By the way, my mom still has all these toys, and looking over these pictures and prices, I think she could make a bundle selling them!) I always loved setting them up and figuring out all the backgrounds for all the people, and then once that was over, I would hardly play with them. The fun was in the back story, and it was all mine to control.

I get that same sense of power from setting up my Snow Village. When all else in the world is out of whack, I have my quiet, peaceful, twinkling village. It’s as beautiful and perfect as I want it to be. So, here’s some pictures and commentary on this year’s Village.

I decided that this year the Tudor-style log cabin is my home. I imagine it’s next to a big snow mountain, but within walking distance to the center of town. (That is the Town Hall behind it.)

That’s me in the wagon…the little blond girl holding the present. In previous years I have lived in the lighthouse (it’s kind of small living quarters, though).

That’s my nine-year-old nephew and his dog, Cashew. (My nephew gave me that piece.) He’s in front of the Center for the Arts because he has my sense of creativity.

The clown always goes near the Hospital…in case there’s any sick kids stuck there for the holidays. Notice the Library and Church in the background. Also, that’s my dad (sorry I cut him off a bit) leading his horse, Beau.

My brother decided he wanted to be the kid in the party hat (he thought the kid was a wizard). It’s more likely that my brother is actually the kid throwing the snowball! The lady with the balloons reminded me of my grandmother (and she is the one who started this whole Village, so I guess she should be in it!)

I decided that my husband is the delivery man this year. We met at Harrison’s Hardware when we were in high school and the Gift Shop reminds me of that. (He wanted to be the fireman, but my brother-in-law is a fireman in real life, so he got that designation this year…maybe next year the hubby can be the fireman.) I love how the proportions of the people are way off compared to the buildings, doors, and vehicles.
This picture came out kind of psychedelic, which I thought was cool…and below is what this part of the Village (there’s more than just this table!) looks like in the dark.

All those who stop by the house while my Village is still up are welcome and encouraged to find themselves in it.

Finding Winter Warmth in a Village Display

More snow fell this morning. Worse than that, we’re experiencing an extreme cold snap here in New England. My outdoor thermometer is reading 7.7 degrees right now (yes, that’s Fahrenheit!). Winter is getting a bit old…and there’s still over two months left of it.

A spot of winter brightness comes from a little collection of mine. My grandmother started a collection for each of my sisters and me on our eighth birthday. My two older sisters both collected Madame Alexander dolls. My younger sister ended up with a porcelain animal collection (I think made by Lennox).

When my turn came about, my grandmother took me to a store called Happy House in the mall. It was just the two of us, which made me feel very special (when you grow up in a family of seven getting one-on-one attention from an adult is a nice treat). And she was letting me pick out my collection all by myself.

Something caught my eye when I first walked into the store. It was a winter village with buildings that were bright colors and shiny. They were so pretty, and they lit up! I didn’t want to be hasty, so I made sure to walk all around the store to see what else they had to offer. My eyes kept wandering back to that village, though, and that’s what I picked.

Years later, my grandmother told me she tried her hardest to get me to pick almost anything else in the store. There were pewter figurines, Precious Moments figurines, and a bunch of other small collectibles to choose from. Apparently, my grandmother thought it would be better for me to pick something smaller than a village, seeing as there was seven of us living in a tiny two-bedroom house.

But I was eight and didn’t care about practical matters like space, and besides my collection was starting with just one building. I may have been small myself (and I was even small for my age…I always said if my siblings and I had been a litter of dogs, I would’ve been the runt that got drowned), but I certainly wasn’t thinking small. I now have over twenty buildings and countless accessories in my Snow Village. It’s still growing too, although not as rapidly as when my grandmother used to add to it twice a year (once on my birthday and again on Christmas).

I currently have it displayed in two different rooms on a total of three different surfaces. I’m a bit more discriminate when I add a large piece to it these days because I don’t want to have to buy a second house just to accommodate the village. There’s just something about the yellow lights radiating from all the windows and all the smiling people bustling around town that projects a warmth…even though it’s the Snow Village.

Stay tuned for pictures!

Hot Bodies In Winter

20150225_115515Warmth and winter (although a nice alliterative pair) don’t normally go together. Winter is a slow and quiet death that no one notices until everything within reach is frozen. I’m not a winter person. I was born in July, and I don’t think I ever got over that first experience with the sultry summer.

I’m not one of those hot-bodied people. (Well, I like to think I have a hot body, just not in the temperature sense…except that time when I starting having hot flashes, but that was just because of this medication I was taking…I’m too young for those other kind of hot flashes!) You know those hot-bodied people I’m talking about. They wear shorts in 50-degree weather and short sleeves all year long, and you’ll hardly ever see them in a sweater—never mind a coat.

Like I said, I’m not a hot-body, and most people know it. I get sweaters for Christmas every year, there’s blankets draped all over the backs of my couches, and I have a nice collection of insulated socks. I really don’t mind playing soccer outside in the 90-degree weather, but you won’t see me outside much at all during the winter. I did take up snowboarding, but that really only gets me out a few times a year (and I’m always wearing my waterproof jacket, my puffy snowboarding pants, those awful snowboarding boots, a hat, gloves, goggles…you probably wouldn’t even recognize me under all that equipment!).

As I look out the window now, the sleet/freezing rain/regular rain has left the world encapsulated in ice. A pretty image, but one that makes me want to curl up on my couch—with one or two of my handy blankets and maybe a cup of tea—to read a book until the world thaws out again.

Yet winter is not all coldness and death; there’s still life out there somewhere. The other morning, I was driving down I-95 on my way to work and spotted a grazing dear. She was a good ways off the road and her body almost totally blended in with the naked trees, but she was alive and well. The next morning I saw a flock of mallards waddling across a front lawn. The pond behind the house was frozen, but the mallards were still around. Then, just as I was pulling into the work parking lot, a flutter of blue caught my eye. It was a blue jay, out and about on a cold morning.

Don’t think you’ll catch me mimicking those animals, though. It has to be much, much, much, much, much warmer before I’ll go outside with nothing but my skin on!

The Cool Aunt Makes Cookies with the Kids

One of the blessings I have been able to count on this holiday season is that my nine-year-old nephew still thinks hanging out with his old aunt is fun. We have movie nights, we cook together, we talk books. It’s all good, but I know it won’t last. He’ll be a teenager soon (too soon!), and teenagers don’t think their aunts—even not-so-old ones—are cool.

We recently got together at my sister’s house to make Christmas cookies. Surprisingly, my three-year-old niece and two-year-old nephew abandoned their Christmas video to come help us.
My little nephew got a bit anxious as we were cooking and decorating the cookies. A gingerbread woman and a gingerbread man were the only raw cookies left on the table. While I helped my niece with the sprinkles and my sister helped my older nephew with the frosting, my little nephew helped himself to the gingerbread lady.
He boldly proclaimed, “I’m gonna lick the lady!”
Now, my little nephew speaks very clearly, and my sister and I both heard him and understood him. At any given time in my sister’s house, one of the kids is bound to be making some noise. Usually it’s quiet singing or talking to no one in particular, but this time my little nephew was actually making an announcement. My sister and I made the mistake of not taking his announcement seriously. So, sure enough, he licked the gingerbread lady.
Then he said, “I’m gonna lick the man!”
Before my sister or I could stop him, he leaned over the table and licked the gingerbread man. Well, there’s no sense in wasting licked cookies, so we cooked them up and wrote his name on them with edible gel.
Here’s a few of our creations:



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