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Get the book for your classroom and then see if you can't get him to come speak. Few kids books carry with them such richness of experience. This one is not to be missed.
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This book, like Thank You, Jeeves, appears to be out of print, though I can't fathom why it should be. A bit shorter than the rest, and with a different setting, it is still much of the fare we are used to-Bertie's Aunt Dahlia has gotten herself into the soup with an ill-judged wager, and it falls to Bertie and Jeeves to get her out. Meanwhile, Bertie runs into a former flame named Vanessa (Florence Craye on steroids), whose rocky relationship with her revolutionary boyfriend spells trouble for Bertram. Add to this a cat that shows up at the most inopportune moments and a certain Captain Plank, who is still under the misapprehension that Bertie is Alpine Joe, and you have a hilarious little tale that fully lives up to the Jeeves and Bertie standard. A far cry better than Jeeves and the Tie that Binds, it is a worthy way to end a wonderful series, and one of the best of the lot.
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Using materials most people have around the house you can simply flip to the beginning and follow the headings for ideas.
What can you use straws for? Try out the section on "Clutching at Straws", make an Oboe, balance scale, spear a potato, etc.
Would you like to know other uses for lemon juice? Start on page 36. Keep going- check out soap suds, strings, paper cups, experiments with temperature, etc.
Basically you get it, you could spend many great minutes or hours teaching your kids through hands on learning.
Many of these can be done by an older child with very little help- a perfect solution to the "I'm bored" problem.
Please- turn of the TV, electronic games. etc. and let them use their brains- actively.
This is a wonderful book, one that every household would benefit from.
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The story is heavily laced with irony in that the student tests the teacher. The narrator (I couldn't find a name) turns in a paper entitled "Ralph the Duck", which seems entirely inappropriate for an assignment in rhetoric and persuasion (You'll need to read the story several times before you figure out why he felt it met the assignment).
We've all met teachers like the professor. He never wears a suit. He sports khakis and sweaters, loafers or sneakers. Ironed dungarees.
There's lots of sardonic humor. The narrator says, "Slick characters like my professor like it if you're a killer or at least a onetime middleweight fighter."
The story picks up pace when a red-headed co-ed takes some pills during a snowstorm and disappears, and our hero is off to the rescue. The redhead is the professor's "advisee".
Although the story is twenty pages long, it is very sparely written. As I was reading it, I thought to myself, "This would make a really good novel." Apparently Busch did, too. It's called GIRLS. If you can't figure out "Ralph the Duck", read the novel.
I'm actually sorry Frederick expanded the story into "GIRLS". It works far better as the punch to the stomach it is in short-story form.
This collection of stories will whet your appetite for more from this fine, fine upstate New York writer.
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Every autumn, I make a point of pulling Alma Mater off the shelf to recharge my professorial batteries. In so doing, I remind myself of both the peculiarities and the nobility of this profession. And I remind myself, as well, of what excellent writing sounds like.
Kluge, in this touching, sardonic reconsideration of his own alma mater, Kenyon College (the book is essentially a diary of the year he spent back in Gambier, Ohio, as a visiting professor), shows us that the reality of a real liberal arts college -- its ghosts, aspirations, conceits, compromises -- is far more complicated. Its history and traditions are as much a curse as a blessing. The dignified, self-knowing exterior it presents to prospective students and the public may mask self-doubts, intrigues, identity crises. For faculty as well as students, small size and intimacy means academic and cultural debates are more difficult to avoid, the stakes higher, the joys and sorrows more intensely personal.
Though not the author's primary purpose, Alma Mater provides a rich and interpretive portrait of contemporary American academic culture. Today a college like Kenyon, isolated though it may be by geography, is awash in the same turmoils as the biggest and most unwieldy Research I institution: race, gender, fraternities, curriculum, faculty roles and rewards, and, as always, money. Just as TV and computers have virtually wiped out traditional regional cultures, so journals, conferences, and faculty mobility assure that professors in vastly different settings will be wrestling with the same ideas, controversies, and alienations.
Kluge's vivid, indeed exquisite, writing draws out larger truths behind quotidian events and observations. Office corridors strangely dark and deserted in the middle of a weekday become a metaphor for faculty overspecialization (increasingly treated like free agents, professors ply their little projects in solitude from home) and the consequent loss of campus collegiality and sense of community. Figures at a faculty meeting seem to come from some central casting of academic types and images. And anyone who has taught a college course would empathize with Kluge's take on grading: "Splattering comments on papers, you sense you are working harder on grading than they ever did on writing, that you are obliged to take seriously what they took casually."
To his bemusement, Kluge, ultimately discovers he can't go home again. But he gives us a loving and richly detailed portrait of the inner life of a college he still loves, a "good place," and we understand why.
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I referred one of my counseling clients to attend one of Fred Burggraf's series of four CAMP sessions after we had been working on her weight difficulties for quite a while. She had all the intellectual understanding but the principles outlined in this book helped her to begin to really practice mindfulness in eating -- plus the other parts of the program -- and she says, "that has made all the difference" -- her pounds are coming off and she knows this time, they will stay off since this is definitely not a diet program but a "quality of life for a lifetime program."
So much of this practical, easily understood book is directly related to learning to think about and experience food in a new way and to eat differently.
I also see this approach as a metaphor for a mindful and certainly spiritual approach to living each day to the fullest. Yes, it is primarily about achieving balance and harmony in the eating arena but if one follows the authors suggestions, it will lead to balance and harmony as a way of life.
Lastly, the author serves as a role model in the best sense of that term. He depicts his own struggles with his weight and the illness that was made worse by the weight. The "participatory" development of his method is truly his special gift to the world -- by transforming his own pain, mental and physical, into health and creativity, by changing his attitudes and habits, he invites others to follow in his footsteps. Bravo!
Addendum: The CAMP of the title is an acronym representing the four primary hubs of Mr. Burggraf's method. It is only an interesting synchronicity that I share the name of this book.
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While wild adventure, humor, and a real sense of the Old West permeate the book, there is a certain sadness, too. The Native Americans whom Dellenbaugh encounters are people clearly already defeated -- fearful, distrusting, sad. We catch glimpses of the Navaho trying to accommodate themselves to the new reality of white (especially Mormon) settlement, creating new networks of trade focused on growing frontier towns. But the seeds of the end are planted already in the irrigated fields of the Mormon settlers, and sometimes it seems as if the natives knew this too. Also, the topography through which the explorers travelled has now partly vanished behind the dams that have ruined Glen Canyon and other stretches of white water and canyon scenery. No one can now do what Dellenbaugh and his companions did; the sense of loss hovers unintentionally about every page.
Dellenbaugh was a keen observer (though perhaps a bit naive) with a talent for making even the monotony of running rapid after rapid spellbinding. One does feel that he may have veiled some of the conflicts that must have arisen in two (non-continuous) years of isolation, though if so this trait is refreshing in a world where we now expect everyone to tattle on everyone else. Every now and then just a shimmer of impatience with one of the crew seeps through. But the real hero who emerges from this book, somewhat surprisingly, is not the leader Powell -- the young Dellenbaugh seems never to have gotten close to him -- but rather the Prof., who rises to every challenge with decency and humaneness, and of whom Dellenbaugh seems to have been genuinely, and for good reason, in awe. Like Powell he is buried in Arlington Cemetery. He deserved that honor, but where he lives is in the pages of this book.
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