tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43706247484987373042012-02-16T06:07:04.733-08:00The diary of the stuffed elephant owned by The Writer, the author of more than 100 children's books, with often uninvited commentary by Winchester the Catellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.comBlogger2911100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-31212439848623329872011-10-04T05:05:00.001-07:002011-10-04T05:06:19.325-07:00

My first post in new-blog-location on place, my favorite writing topic.http://www.candiceransom.com/honeysucklevine/2011/buzzards-a-school-visit-and-elizabeth-spencer/http://

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-26542454908947791912011-10-03T03:58:00.000-07:002011-10-03T04:02:54.401-07:00

Well, actually The Writer is moving. Her blog has been moved from LiveJournal to WordPress. Check out Under the Honeysuckle Vine! The Writer will talk about living and working as a Southern writer. And yes, Winchester will continue to make appearances (he still has his respiratory illness).Join us at: http://www.candiceransom.com/honeysucklevine/2011/under-the-honeysuckle-vine-moving-day/C'mon

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-89176863972582058582010-08-24T04:25:00.000-07:002010-08-24T04:33:16.879-07:00

Winchester has asked me to tell all his fans that he is mostly okay--No, I'm not!--but he has a chronic respiratory problem that keeps him under the weather. He's very quiet these days.When I'm not having pill stuffed down my gullet.You can read more about Winchester here.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-7225330410274096452010-04-01T04:04:00.000-07:002010-04-01T04:16:29.843-07:00

What's all that stuff?Toys! I found them in The Writer's office. They were in corners and under desks and stuff.Yeah, The Writer is renovating her office. The whole room is one big mess.And she's one big grouch. The Writer is having a hard time working in there. She needs order.She's not a very good housekeeper. Look at all the loot I found.You can't play with all those toys at once. Watch me.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-79275925182161856602010-03-05T11:53:00.000-08:002010-03-05T12:00:51.190-08:00

You got a reprieve, you lucky cat.The vet says my allergies are too bad right now.Yeah, they can't put you to sleep. Put me to sleep!?! What are you talking about?Only for a little while--you aren't really going to open wide for the vet-dentist, are you? They have to knock you out. But you'll be better in a little bit and then you'll go back to the dentist.You big meanie! Trying to scare me when

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-22576177050161564932010-03-01T03:58:00.001-08:002010-03-01T04:08:34.753-08:00

Wiiiiinchesssster! It's tiiiiiime.No! Nononononononono!Stop acting like a two-year-old. Everybody has to go to the dentist.You don't.I don't even have a mouth, much less teeth. Today won't be so bad. The nice technician lady will draw blood--Needles!!!!!--and look at your mouth and tell The Writer how many hundreds and hundreds of dollars it will cost to clean your teeth.I hope it

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-5260969900766515902010-02-17T04:03:00.000-08:002010-02-17T04:11:17.325-08:00

Winchester, as everyone knows, is not like other cats. Other cats love to get in boxes and grocery bags and hide. They like to sleep in baskets and even fruit bowls. Not Winchester.Winchester never, ever, ever hops in a box or a bag or a basket. He's clawstraphobic. When he has to go to the vet, it takes a small army to stuff him in his carrier. So where is Winchester? And what is that little

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-48212037372374840702010-02-07T06:32:00.000-08:002010-02-07T06:49:19.787-08:00

Hey, you know The Writer's sister?Of course I know her! Patricia bought me from the toy store in Bristol, Virginia. Her grandmother gave her money and out of all the toys, Pat chose me. That was in 1955. A few years later The Writer found me stuffed in Pat's toy box--I just asked if you knew her! Not a memoir! Sheesh! [Black cloud of silence]Oh, don't be mad. Listen, The Writer took a picture of

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-8246956692447651342010-01-07T04:18:00.000-08:002010-01-07T04:41:47.566-08:00

Wanna hear my New Year's Resolutions?It's January 7, Winchester. You're a week late. I don't go by the human calendars or clocks. I use Cat Time. Cat Time?Yes, we cats devised our own calendar and clock eons ago back when we were worshipped in Egypt. It's a pity nobody treats us like the sacred creatures we are any more--If you were any more pampered, you'd be in a coma. What's Cat Time?Well, for

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-34607293936281962382009-12-30T15:03:00.000-08:002009-12-30T15:21:21.645-08:00

Tomorrow night is New Year's Eve. Guess who your date is?[panicked] Never mind about that about that ball-dropping stuff. Do you realize The Writer and her Husband are leaving us!!! For two whole nights and three days! Yes, I know. They decided when they were at the Hope and Glory Inn in May they'd come back New Year's to celebrate the last few days of their 30th anniversary year. I think it's

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-53137223676960505982009-12-24T11:02:00.000-08:002009-12-24T11:13:18.077-08:00

Well, another year and I'm alone under the Christmas tree again. It's Christmas Eve, almost. Winchester is asleep, knocked out by his allergy pill. The Writer is fussing over her first-ever ham and fixing a nice supper. The Writer's husband is at work, but he'll be home soon. The presents are stowed in the vintage suitcases, ready to be opened tonight.It's so quiet. Without Winchester nattering

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-70201260207149496782009-12-18T07:24:00.000-08:002009-12-18T07:35:02.926-08:00

What're you doing?Writing my letter to Sandy Claws. Looks like quite a list.Yeah, I'm doing my part for the economy so I put on a lot of high-end ticket items.Self-cleaning Litter Robot, $300? Cedar Duplex Cat House with Porch and Deck, $479?Gotta love a self-cleaning litter box. And I can entertain on the porch in the spring and barbeque on the deck in the summer. Ruby Necklace designed by

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-77251375333398503382009-12-11T05:38:00.000-08:002009-12-11T05:57:26.629-08:00

Last Sunday The Writer wanted a "Christmas portrait" for her userpic on LinkedIn and her other blog. So she put on that ridiculous elf hat and rammed that too-tight jester collar around my neck and The Writer's Husband took pictures. I thought that would be the end of it.You should know better by now.I should! Yesterday when The Writer called me from a nice snoozy nap on her sweatshirt, I should

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-62972826447985083032009-12-08T03:52:00.000-08:002009-12-08T04:04:43.084-08:00

You're all by yourself. Want some company?I guess. Short Stuff is . . . gone. That little black and white cat?Xenia. Yes, she's gone. She was old and sick and it was her time.I know. Sort of.She hated you--for seven years, she resented every breath you drew.I know.She'd corner you in the dining room and The Writer would have to separate you two with the vacuum cleaner. Remember?Short Stuff could

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-13545277719306551212009-11-26T10:34:00.000-08:002009-11-26T10:49:44.357-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, Winchester! You've been invited to sit at the Big Table with the grown-ups this year!About time. I'm tired of that dinky old cardtable we're always stuck at.Look how pretty it is! The Writer is using her favorite Friendly Village dishes, with the special silverware with inspiration words on the handles, like "Grow," "Dream," "Create"--Is there a spoon that says "Chow Down?"--

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-16119514463195419652009-11-17T14:57:00.000-08:002009-11-17T15:10:36.892-08:00

Look! I'm the star of The Writer's new website!You are not the star. You happen to be on the Home page, that's all.Yeah? Well, I don't see any pictures of you on there. And I wrote the Welcome letter. Nyah!My, aren't we mature? If you must know, The Writer asked me if I wanted to be on the website with her and I declined because I'm so modest. Oh, puh-leeze. I'm gonna hurl. The truth is The

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-53176624384556785412009-10-30T07:13:00.000-07:002009-10-30T07:43:59.196-07:00

It's that time of year again. And this year The Writer is planning an old-fashioned 1920's Hallowe'en. You know Hallowe'en was originally for grown-ups. They threw big parties and dressed up in costumes. Kids didn't get in the picture until the 1940s. Anyway, you're going to wear an authentic 1920s costume! And you'll sit by the door when The Writer hands out candy to the trick or treaters. Does

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-34065875022426665262009-10-18T12:39:00.000-07:002009-10-18T12:58:00.380-07:00

Get up!Nooo, let me sleep. I got in very late last night. After the conference, there was a cocktail party and then dinner . . . I think I had one too many Pink Elephants.I know for a fact you were home by six o'clock. You mumbled something about being the very first one to blog about the conference, then fell in bed.It was a long day, anyway. Going to conferences is hard work!Aw, I bet you're

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-21674006785291955492009-10-11T08:44:00.001-07:002009-10-11T08:54:29.321-07:00

Let's see . . . what shall I wear to the Kidlitosphere Conference next Saturday? A lot of the attendees are wondering what to wear. So is The Writer. What do you care? You've had on the same outfit for 47 years. They say if you keep something in your closet long enough, it comes back in style. Those clothes will come back in style when they bring back bustles and spats.Speaking of spats, are you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-58460069593995189032009-10-01T04:51:00.000-07:002009-10-09T11:29:49.179-07:00

I don't like this no-picture business.Neither does The Writer. She has been working on the problem for two weeks. She's cleared her cache, dumped her cookies, and prayed to the blogging god, but nothing has worked. We'll just have to soldier on without photos.But photographs of me are the whole point of the blog!!! Without pictures of my cuteness, the blog is just a bunch of words.Think of this

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-53553554790170024592009-09-20T12:02:00.000-07:002009-10-09T11:22:12.203-07:00

Creeeaak . . .What's that sound?That, dear Ellsworth, is the sound of this blog being turned on again. It's been a while, like, since June.What are you doing?Making a get-well card for Short Stuff. She's a pretty sick cat. You're making a get-well card for Xenia? That's very nice, but I know you, Wincester. What's in it for you?Nothing! Can't a cat make a get-well card now and then? Maybe when

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-12322772525887204842009-06-28T06:47:00.001-07:002009-06-28T06:57:25.389-07:00

The Writer has been gone a whole week to teach at Hollins University and she'll be there another five weeks. It's such a long time. I miss her. Don't you?Miss who? It's wonderful without The Writer. I can to do what I please, like sleep all day without her bugging me.Don't give me that. You love it when The Writer brushes you--she says it's like currying a horse because you're so big, but you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-77703007054712693452009-06-03T07:06:00.000-07:002009-06-03T07:20:46.679-07:00

Well, here we are in the hallowed halls of the District Court where I'm suing The Writer for throwing me in the clink.Looks a lot like our hallway. Are you nervous?I have my power green tie and my glasses that make me look like Catticus Finch and my briefcase. Why should I be nervous?Power ties are red and not a St. Patrick's Day gag tie. And your briefcase is really a vintage Elizabeth Arden

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-8900985489955062132009-05-29T06:01:00.000-07:002009-05-29T06:13:19.342-07:00

We go to court tomorrow so we need to whip this case into shape.Tomorrow is Saturday. Nobody has court on Saturday.Hmm. Maybe I read the summons wrong. Anyway we need to work hard to prosecute The Writer for throwing me in the slammer. I'm representing myself, of course.A cat who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client.Very funny. Go look up "equitable subrogation."Why?Because you're my

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-8702005494474555742009-05-25T06:44:00.001-07:002009-05-25T06:54:07.716-07:00

What's that paper you've got?A summons to appear in court. I'm suing The Writer.For what?Mental cruelty. Involuntary lock-up. Catnapping. Oh, for heaven's sake. You've were boarded three and a half days and that was two weeks ago. Why can't you sulk like other cats and then get over it?It's a matter of principle. I know my rights. I hope the judge throws the book at The Writer."Throws the book."

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-34610694112022132252009-05-20T05:04:00.000-07:002009-05-20T05:13:50.398-07:00

Well, I'm back. I had a wonderful time at the Hope and Glory Inn. I'm glad one of us did. Don't sound so bitter. It wasn't that bad. It was horrible! The guards threw slop at us and guard dogs barked day and night. I couldn't sleep a wink. I tried to break out, but I got caught.That's not what I heard. When The Writer came to pick you up from the vet's, you ran back in your kitty condo. She and

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-78218977326934198652009-05-19T04:03:00.000-07:002009-05-19T04:47:18.748-07:00

Stay close to the floor, cat. Nobody will see us. We're out the door! Good job! Now, over the wall . . . look sharp! Oh, no! There's the spotlight! We're caught! The sirens are deafening! Here come the guards! We'll be sent up the river to the Big House![Our last morning at the Hope and Glory Inn. The Writer is lingering in the gardens, taking pictures. She doesn't want to leave. I don't blame

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-70880819727388741002009-05-18T06:06:00.000-07:002009-05-18T07:03:22.694-07:00

Okay, here's what's going down: me and this cat in solitary want to make a break for it. Before the guards have their second cup of coffee, One-eyed Jake will loosen the latches on our cells. Then me and the other cat will lay in wait.Every day at noon the Kibble Guy makes a delivery. Jake will create a diversion when he comes in the lobby. Me and the other cat will scram out the door and hide in

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-71597630561148915812009-05-17T06:10:00.000-07:002009-05-17T07:18:40.670-07:00

I'm making claw marks on the wall of my cell. Two long, miserable days. The guard who tosses me mealy kibble told me The Writer (my "owner," he called her, as if) and her husband are off on some fancy trip. There's a one-eyed cat here named Jake. He's a lifer and is allowed outside. I think you call that a trustee. Anyway, he says he can spring me from this joint. We're making plans--uh-oh. Gotta

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-58352194447838274242009-05-15T05:11:00.000-07:002009-05-15T05:58:39.687-07:00

I knew something was fishy when they dragged me to the vet last week! The Writer got out that horrible cat carrier again. But I didn't go easy. It took two men and a boy to capture me and get me in that thing. And where did they take me this time?Jail!!! Lock-up! I am behind bars!It's so humiliating. A tiny cell with a rag for a bed, a stainless steel bowl of water (I miss my Garfield bowl), and

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-3079998466792375212009-05-06T04:21:00.000-07:002009-05-06T04:33:08.579-07:00

Did you see what happened yesterday? There I was, taking my early afternoon nap, when I was rudely snatched up by The Writer and stuffed in the cat carrier!Stuffed is right. I thought she'd have to use a battering ram to get you in it.And then we went to the vet's! The Writer even had the nerve to take my picture there. I got two shots and that blasted thermometer. And the vet said I need to

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-79051832435968631132009-05-01T09:57:00.000-07:002009-05-01T12:35:38.417-07:00

Is my time up yet?You were just sent in there for waking everybody up at 4:04 this morning. And 4:15 yesterday. And 4:40 the morning before that. Can I help it my stomach-clock is set a little early? The Writer doesn't appreciate you digging at the bedroom door at that ridiculous hour. Neither do I!Being sent to the powder room for Time-Out is cruel and unusual punishment. When I get out of here,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-7703252416140374902009-04-27T05:38:00.000-07:002009-04-27T05:52:01.393-07:00

Run for your lives! Head for the hills! Every cat and stuffed animal for himself!What are you talking about?The Writer gave up sugar, haven't you heard? Life in this house will be utter misery. The crankiness. The moodiness. The yowling. The tantrums.Sounds like one of your typical days. Yes, The Writer has made the brave decision to give up sugar and refined flour. That means no "cookie" for you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-22964835317156092962009-04-14T04:07:00.000-07:002009-04-14T04:23:49.600-07:00

Will you look at this hideous thing? It's a disgrace.That's The Writer's favorite sweater. She wears it every Easter and to spring school visits. What's wrong with it?Stacy London and Clinton Kelly would scream if they saw this on their show What Not To Wear. This sweater would be the first thing they'd throw in the trashcan.What do you know about that TV show? We don't even have cable.I saw a

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-20119135308004557622009-04-10T04:06:00.000-07:002009-04-10T07:48:36.913-07:00

I see The Writer has fixed an Easter basket for Her Husband, like she does every year. With a bunny a grown man wouldn't want and all her favorite candy.Well, it's a tradition. The Writer loves Easter. The basket is over 100 years old. It came from a general store that had been closed for over 50 years. And she's had it for many years herself.She had a little problem with the candy this year,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-39684315826527950482009-04-08T05:32:00.000-07:002009-04-08T05:51:26.182-07:00

What's all this stuff?Just looking at one of The Writer's Easter displays. She loves Easter and puts out vintage postcards and greeting cards and books about bunnies and duckies. And this book.The Velveteen Rabbit. What's that about?This is my favorite book of all time. I'm reading it again because of something The Writer said when she came back from her last school visit. She shows slides of you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-91852474282923051302009-04-01T12:36:00.000-07:002009-04-01T12:48:53.417-07:00

You're back! Obviously.When did you get home? What happened? Did you like it at Becky's blog?Becky is really nice. She fed me way better kibble than what I get here. And she made me Head Book Reviewer, but--But what?She found out I can't read any words besides "the," "cat," and "food." So I came home.Did you tell her goodbye properly?I gave her a great big wet nose-kiss. We're cool. It's all good

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-45523235611628902092009-03-31T04:08:00.000-07:002009-03-31T04:27:26.078-07:00

Oh, man. I've never seen so many books. All I do is read, read, read. My whiskers are limp, I've read so much. Ellsworth was right. Becky put me to work right away on her blog.WINCHESTER! THE PHONE IS RINGING!Yes, Miss Becky, I'll get it. Hello-Becky's-Book-Reviews-You-Got-A-Warehouse-Full-Of-Books-We'll-Review-'Em-Overnight. It's for you, Miss Becky. Hyperion wants their entire spring and summer

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-80522688543355910892009-03-30T04:08:00.000-07:002009-03-30T05:14:22.497-07:00

What're you doing with all this food? Leaving, that's what. Running away again? The last time you ran off was when you thought I was going to Hollins University with The Writer last summer. The Writer and me had a big fight over at her new blog. So I'm going to find a new blog.You have a blog. Ours. You don't appreciate me. My talents, charm, and good looks are wasted here. So where are you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-18522161238822354612009-03-27T05:41:00.000-07:002009-03-27T05:48:34.143-07:00

We haven't done Poetry Friday in months. Winchester and I decided to do it today, but he's nowhere around. Hmmmm. Well, I'll post myself. Today's selection is from a collection of poetry I found on The Writer's shelves. It's called Everything and Anything by Dorothy Aldis (1925)."Night and Morning"The morning sits outside afraidUntil my mother draws the shade;Then it bursts in like a ball,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-35782887915951238722009-03-24T08:22:00.000-07:002009-03-24T08:36:25.705-07:00

Hey, how come you're hiding in the corner of The Writer's office?I don't know. I feel kind of blah.What's wrong?The Writer has this new blog. You know what that means. Nobody will ever hear from us again.I know about the new blog, Under the Honeysuckle Vine. The Writer told me she's going to keep up both blogs. Maybe only post once a week on ours. After all, you have fans out there.Maybe The

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-55706077632579869892009-03-15T07:45:00.001-07:002009-03-15T07:59:06.279-07:00

The Writer just got back from visiting Matoaca Elementary school. She did a slide show that had pictures of Yours Truly. The Writer told her husband all the kids asked questions about me. How old I am. How much did I weigh (I hope she fibbed about that). What did I like to do for fun. One kid asked if I did school visits! I think I should! You hate to ride in the car, remember?That's because

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-12274036795780702112009-02-13T07:14:00.001-08:002009-02-13T07:38:47.012-08:00

Ellsworth: Oooh, this is so sudden!Winchester: Wha? What year is it? What's going on? Why am I in this get-up?We're getting married!We haven't been on this blog for two months . . . I thought it was shut down. And now you tell me we're getting married?Okay, we're not really getting married. We're pretending we're The Writer and Her Husband. Valentine's Day is their 30th wedding anniversary. The

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-12453215076222150892008-12-25T04:05:00.000-08:002008-12-25T04:19:04.821-08:00

It's Christmas morning. Not too cold outside, no snow, no rain. Typical December day in Virginia. Winchester, are you awake?[yawn]. Yeah. The Writer is still in bed. And she went to bed early last light, like always.She was tired of chasing you away from the old village houses and bottle-brush trees and celluloid reindeer on the sideboard. That's The Writer's favorite display--she's particular

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-47490597448364579662008-12-24T11:53:00.000-08:002008-12-24T12:06:07.957-08:00

At last, all the hustle and bustle in this house is finished. Not a cat is stirring . . . Winchester is conked out on The Writer's afghan on the bed, someplace he is not supposed to sleep. But a lot is forgiven during the holiday season. The Writer has had Christmas music playing since Thanksgiving Day. Not like her--she usually rails against "too much Christmas." But maybe she's mellowing in her

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-14947480144026422332008-12-18T04:06:00.000-08:002008-12-18T04:31:02.252-08:00

The Writer absolutely loves all things Margaret Wise Brown. She is pleased to be a "Hollins Girl" like Margaret (and Margaret's mother)--She's pretty old to be any kind of girl. And that's a terrible picture!Once you graduate from Hollins University, you are a Hollins girl, no matter what your age. Anyway, before The Writer went to Hollins, she earned her M.F.A. in writing for children at

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-15665749225996493152008-12-17T04:14:00.000-08:002008-12-17T04:37:42.069-08:00

In our house, Gustaf Tenggren's The Little Match Girl is displayed on the coffee table in the den, a place of honor. I'm surprised because The Writer doesn't really like Tenggren that much. Like most kids from the 50s, she grew up on Golden Books, including the famous The Poky Little Puppy andThe Shy Little Kitten. She liked the stories, but not the illustrations.The mole, particularly its feet,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-266200649548531812008-12-16T04:22:00.001-08:002008-12-16T04:50:55.939-08:00

We are way behind on vintage books, so I'm going to catch up this week with Vintage Tuesday, Vintage Wednesday, and Vintage Thursday. Other people set out candles and hang holly wreaths--The Writer decorates with books. I've been looking over her vintage Christmas books. Today we'll talk about The Littlest Angel by Charles Tazewell, illustated by Katherine Evans.The Writer remembers having the

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-74499566100148303062008-12-15T04:16:00.000-08:002008-12-15T04:36:56.295-08:00

Saturday I was taking a long afternoon nap. I was having visions of Mousies in my head when somebody rudely snatched me up from my nice warm spot and hauled me into the dining room."Picture time!" The Writer said. She proceeded to tie a wide pink ribbon around my neck, then stood me on the dining room table--a place I am NEVER allowed to be--and said, "Look lively!"The Writer had posed me by an

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-311614480264300022008-12-09T03:57:00.000-08:002008-12-09T04:16:48.936-08:00

Look, it snowed last night. Our first snow of the year.A half inch. Still, it's pretty. The Writer opened the window. She does that sometimes to air out the bedroom. Yeah . . . I smell me some squirrels!Hmmm. The screen latches are loose. Help me push the screen up. There! How brave are you?I swiped The Writer's Husband's chicken leg off the table last night. The Writer said I was cruising. That

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-2675686979639859162008-12-01T03:58:00.000-08:002008-12-01T04:12:32.434-08:00

Hello, devoted followers. You finally have your wish--I have my very own column. The Writer started a second blog, so boring old Writing Mondays are gone. Be prepared for witty, thought-provoking posts, sprinkled with wisdom, topped by sparkling photos of Yours Truly.Gag! Is this what your column is going to be like? One long, toot-your-own-horn?What are you doing here, Ellsworth? Giving you a

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-16859338748256991862008-11-29T09:25:00.000-08:002008-11-29T09:42:40.259-08:00

Years after she originally set it up, The Writer has finally activated her LiveJournal account. She told me she wants to say things herself and so she has her own blog.What about us? Just wait . . . The new blog is called "Book! Book!", a term used in Appalachia in the olden days. Teachers would stand at the door of their one-room schoolhouse and call, "Book! Book!" until they got a bell.Book!

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-20068044535642757432008-11-21T06:09:00.001-08:002008-11-21T06:21:57.233-08:00

Why are we crammed under the bed? What is this about?We're protesting the National Book Awards results. The judging wasn't fair.I know we were rooting for The Writer's friend's Kathi Appelt's book The Underneath. And we're really disappointed. But how can we say the judging wasn't fair?Because they didn't have a cat on the jury! The Underneath is an animal story. It's got a dog and cats in it.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-33306585115725242342008-11-20T03:46:00.000-08:002008-11-20T04:04:31.815-08:00

Ellie! The Writer's calendar is still turned to October!I know. She's behind, as usual.She doesn't know that Thanksgiving is a week from today! Next week! The stores are all full of fixings and trimmings and those great big really good chickens. What are we going to do? She's going to miss the whole holiday. We'll be the only family in the world eating corned beef hash and eggs or something!Well,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-10908275451118582472008-11-18T03:52:00.000-08:002008-11-18T04:15:29.791-08:00

The Writer had a great time at the Texas State Reading Association conference in Austin. She always enjoys meeting reading teachers and getting their ideas and views. The weather was lovely and everyone was so nice. Texas is one friendly state! The best part of these conferences is that everyone has the same goal: helping children read. This time, though, The Writer experienced an undercurrent of

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-15574789509823952442008-11-12T04:44:00.001-08:002008-11-12T05:41:49.157-08:00

This time of year the squirrels in our yard are extra-busy, scurrying and hurrying to bury nuts from our hickory tree.Did you like writing that sentence? It's very showy.There's nothing wrong with writing a poetic sentence now and then. I found a book on The Writer's bookshelf that goes nicely with the hustle and bustle outside. It's called Foxy Squirrel in the Garden, by Clara Ingram Judson,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-18111726469725149872008-11-10T04:17:00.000-08:002008-11-10T04:41:41.367-08:00

This week The Writer goes to the Texas State Reading Association conference in Austin. She'll give a speech and present on transitional readers. Transitional readers have learned to read but haven't yet crossed the bridge to fluent independent reading. The Writer wrote Time Spies and other books for 7 to 10 year olds to help those readers cross the bridge. Most of the time she has her audience in

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-19632807681999002582008-11-07T04:24:00.000-08:002008-11-07T05:00:09.623-08:00

Rachel Field is one of The Writer's favorite children's poets. She will pay tribute to Ms. Field's work this November. Field is best known for her 1930 Newbery-winning book Hitty, Her First Hundred Years. Rachel Lyman Field was born in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, educated at Radcliffe, then split her year between New York and Maine. Those are the facts, but Rachel Field was a joyous spirit who

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-16010806596204717962008-11-05T04:34:00.000-08:002008-11-07T14:27:11.999-08:00

Among The Writer's collection of old children's books is an odd book that she values more than anything--The Wonderful Land of Up by Olive Roberts Barton with illustrations by Neely McCoy. It was published by Doran in 1918, the year her mother and stepfather were born. Olive Roberts Barton was a school teacher in Massachusetts who wrote several children's books (if you happen to find the rare

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-56772006001088673422008-10-31T05:08:00.000-07:002008-10-31T05:23:47.043-07:00

Oh, boy! Isn't all spooky out here?It's five-thirty. Still daylight.Yeah, but it's Halloween...and we have on matching hats, almost. You can't pull off the orange hair like I can.Orange clashes with my complexion. Pick a house and ring the doorbell.We have to do this scientifically. According to this article I read, you can tell by some houses what you'll get. What do you mean?Like that house

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-73916631507520288732008-10-30T04:52:00.000-07:002008-10-30T05:04:43.732-07:00

What's with you? You look down in the dumps.I broke The Writer's Husband's coffee maker last night. I know. Glass everywhere and right at dinner time too.I didn't mean to do it. I was playing with the cord and pulled it right off the counter. It made a terrific noise, didn't it?I doubt you're filled with remorse. So why the long whiskers?The Writer can't take me treat-or-treating tomorrow night.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-83793812372664058742008-10-21T04:26:00.000-07:002008-10-21T04:39:10.921-07:00

The Writer has just learned that her novel, Seeing Sky-Blue Pink, is on the Master List for the William Allen White Award in the grade 3 to 5 category.This award was created in 1952, the year The Writer was born. She is thrilled to be on the list.The old thrilled-to-be-nominated thing again?All the schoolchildren in grades 3 to 5 are required to read Seeing Sky-Blue Pink. That's a pretty big deal

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-26345769308228946162008-10-20T05:45:00.000-07:002008-10-20T06:06:50.159-07:00

Last spring, The Writer agreed to be a judge in a writing nationwide writing competition called Book Arts Bash. Homeschooled children in all grades entered work in such categories as original legend, blog post, comic book, short stories, poetry, fable, fractured fairy tale, abc book, pop-up book, skit, novel cover art, and more.The Writer agreed to judge the original picture book category for

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-82041961207685874772008-10-17T05:42:00.000-07:002008-10-17T05:57:02.972-07:00

The Writer's favorite holiday was Halloween. She checked out this book over and over, Heigh Ho for Halloween by Elizabeth Hough Sechrist, with illustrations by Guy Fry (1948). The book is an anthology of stories, plays, poems, games, and parties. The Writer longed to give a Jack O'Lantern Party with homemade invitations, and games like Name the Jack O'Lantern, Race the Raisins, the Peanut Hunt,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-13403291685073013172008-10-16T04:50:00.000-07:002008-10-16T05:04:34.956-07:00

It's the first meeting of the Fishbone Literary and Olive Loaf Celery Flake Tuna Kibble Delight Society--whew! what a mouthful! Maybe we should just call it Book Club.No! You told me I could name it like the literary society in that book you raved about so much. All right. I have chosen our first book.Wait a minute! How come I didn't get any say in this? You got to name our club; I get to

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-44255379400852563522008-10-15T05:53:00.001-07:002008-10-15T06:16:20.852-07:00

When The Writer was little, she used to read her sister's textbooks. Her favorite was Five in the Family, a health book. The stories imparted gentle health lessons, such as standing up straight, or little psychological tips, like the story where Sue, who is sick, is all grumpy and her friends hold a puppet show outside her window to cheer her up.The Writer has a few health textbooks from the 40s.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-9957387733555689772008-10-14T05:05:00.000-07:002008-10-14T05:23:38.099-07:00

At last I get to create a dish that will be the name part of our new literary society. And it won't be any old potato peel pie either.The potato peel pie in that book represented the hardships the people on Geurnsey Island faced during World War II. They didn't have much food. Making a pie out of potatoes and using the peelings for a crust showed their ingenuity in the face of adversity.Did you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-41917024603133251662008-10-13T07:30:00.000-07:002008-10-13T07:49:59.885-07:00

Last week, The Writer talked about how she missed the art of letter writing. Today her rant will be about the loss of grace. Grace is an undervalued trait. Most people don't miss it because they don't know what it is. Grace in publishing (and other businesses) means tending to the niceties. It's not just about being courteous. It's how people present themselves in general.I can see this is

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-84423928583476767632008-10-10T03:07:00.000-07:002008-10-10T03:24:46.170-07:00

October is The Writer's favorite month, so all of our Poetry Friday offerings for the next few weeks will reflect fall-ish, witch-y, pumpkin-y, ghostie things. Brraa-aah, aah, aah!That's a pretty feeble monster imitation. What do you expect? I had to use my purring muscles.This week's poem is by Walter de la Mare who once said, "Only the rarest kind of best in anything can be good enough for the

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-38836839263004813592008-10-09T04:46:00.000-07:002008-10-09T05:05:54.129-07:00

The days are getting cooler and shorter. It's a good time to start our literary group. We'll read good books and talk about them. I can't wait.You said I could name our club, remember? I want it to have an animal island name and a food name, just like that book you read. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. That was such a great book!Yeah, that one. Let's cook up something for

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-72553980401818611322008-10-08T06:00:00.000-07:002008-10-08T06:27:20.569-07:00

The first old children's book The Writer bought, many years ago, is called The Giant Scissors (1895). She thought the title was weird--the cover shows a red scissors medallion on top of imposing gates. The Giant Scissors was written by Annie Fellows Johnston (1863-1931), author of the popular "Little Colonel" series. There were 13 Little Colonel books in all, the first made into a movie starring

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-29759346206596552092008-10-06T06:27:00.000-07:002008-10-06T06:55:08.714-07:00

The Writer came home from her trip and finished reading The Geurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, which she loved. I did, too. The best part of the book, The Writer says, is that it's mostly written in the form of letters. The letters are funny, sad, poignant, and even shocking. It's no secret The Writer loathes this century because so many wonderful things have been lost. Like letter

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-11355505153071095802008-10-02T05:15:00.001-07:002008-10-02T05:31:43.766-07:00

Whacha doin'?Reading one of The Writer's library books. She's off on a speaking visit the next few days and she left her book here. It's a grown-up book.The Writer is reading a book for grown-ups? I think I'm going to faint.Don't faint, the floor might break.Ha-ha. What's the book called? The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. It's really good.How can a book about a cow and pig food

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-52654647703629862292008-10-01T06:13:00.000-07:002008-10-01T06:31:26.803-07:00

My favorite day of the week! Today I've chosen one of my favorite books because it's so weird, in a wonderful way. The Writer stumbled (well, ripped out of the hands of the person she was Vintage Binge-ing with) on this book. It's called The Cat Whose Whiskers Slipped, by Ruth Campbell. It's a collection of strange stories like the title story, plus "The Lamb Who Loaned His Baa," "The Firefly Who

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-68480213731248878202008-09-29T05:22:00.001-07:002008-09-29T05:33:30.581-07:00

The Writer has an article published in the Fall 2008 issue of Creative Home magazine. The article is called "Thoreau's Bathroom" and is about her exploits redecorating the powder room in her house earlier this spring. The Writer has never picked up a paintbrush before, but she vowed she would do all the work herself with no help from The Husband. It was quite an escapade. Let's just say cats were

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-58402828852528503702008-09-26T05:09:00.000-07:002008-09-26T05:43:10.800-07:00

Today The Writer wants to submit an original poem. She rarely writes poetry, but she used to write quite a bit of it when she was a teenager.It was all the angst-filled stuff, wasn't it?Yes, she wrote a lot of melancholy poetry about the world coming to an end and so forth. In fact, her earliest published work was poetry. She had a poem published in an anthology at the age of 16. And another poem

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-52486041205663829432008-09-25T05:30:00.001-07:002008-09-25T06:01:21.012-07:00

Is this the restaurant? The Swampwater Grill? Doesn't sound very swanky to me.All the chi-chi places have awful names. Makes them even more chi-chi. The understated decor fools you, too. I'm starved!You're always starved. Is this little blackboard thing the menu?I'll start with smoked Isle of Skye wood pigeon with quail eggs. Next I'll have pheasant under glass with hothouse white asparagus. For

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-15957656218179076312008-09-24T04:16:00.000-07:002008-09-24T04:41:29.038-07:00

Wednesday again and that means a fresh old book. I found this on the bottom shelf of one of The Writer's bookcases. Since it's still September and going back to school is a fairly new experience, I want to share The Magic Bus. It's a Wonder Book "With Washable Covers"--an antiseptic answer to Golden Books. The Writer had a lot of inexpensive books when she was a kid: Golden Books, Wonder Books,

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-43454515505021536272008-09-23T05:20:00.001-07:002008-09-23T05:31:44.965-07:00

Oh, no!Wha--? You woke me up from a good dream. I was just about to catch this mouse--Look at the calendar. It's September 23!So? It's the day after the first day of fall. Did we miss a leaf dropping or something?Yes! We missed my blogaversary! On August 12, 2007, I created this blog and wrote my first post. Since then I've written over 200 posts. And we didn't celebrate!We still can.Really?Let's

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-36982308223843687062008-09-22T06:37:00.000-07:002008-09-22T06:41:59.579-07:00

Guess what? The Writer is a judge in this year's Cybils Awards! She's one of the judges for her favorite genre--nonfiction picture books. She's very excited.What does the winner get? A bag of kibble? Is it too late for me to write a nonfiction picture book?You could write twenty nonfiction picture books. They have to be published this year to qualify.Where's that old printing press? I saw it just

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-60813859402099108232008-09-21T12:47:00.000-07:002008-09-21T13:05:42.073-07:00

We've won an award! Becky of Becky's Book Reviews has nominated our blog for an award! At last I'm on the red carpet where I rightfully belong. "Over here, Mr. Winchester!" "Winchester, look this way!" So many photographers . . . I hardly know where to look.There's only one photographer and she's not very good. Let's tell people about the "I *Heart* Your Blog" award and make our own

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-56685857629792089582008-09-19T05:42:00.001-07:002008-09-19T05:56:51.042-07:00

The Writer was feeling "September-ish" this morning. The nights are cool and the days are in the mid-70s. Black-eyed Susans flourish along the roadsides. The light is golden because the sun is slanting a different way now. Because everything seems yellow, the Writer planted yellow mums around our mailbox. (I helped.)She chose a poem by Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885), a writer who was friends with

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-21804034452649666362008-09-18T05:18:00.000-07:002008-09-18T05:33:06.630-07:00

Well, here I am at the ad-person's place. Where's the truckload of crispy crackly chicken? How do I get it?You have to audition first.Audition? For what?The role of the Chickin' Lickin' mascot. Put on this chicken costume.A cat in a chicken costume? You must be kidding.You wore a mouse costume once. It's a well-known fact you have no pride when it comes to food. I feel like an idiot. Look at all

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-60767761216940684552008-09-17T07:04:00.000-07:002008-09-17T07:27:14.914-07:00

It's Wednesday and that means a new book from The Writer's collection of old children's books. Today I chose one of The Writer's absolute favorite books. She checked it out of her little school library so many times, only her name was written on the check-out card. The book is The Burgess Bird Book for Children, by Thornton W. Burgess, a well-known nature writer in the early to mid-20th century.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-41767402256734439422008-09-16T04:37:00.000-07:002008-09-16T04:48:31.433-07:00

Your dinner has been sitting there at least four seconds. How come you haven't scarfed it up?I don't want it.What? Am I hearing right? It's Cluck-A-Doodle, your favorite.Not any more. I want real chicken, like The Writer and Her Husband have. You know, with bones and crispy crackly skin. My food is just goopy.I know a way you can get that kind of chicken.Really? How?I saw an ad in today's

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-52143464744607358482008-09-15T04:32:00.000-07:002008-09-15T05:00:57.400-07:00

The Writer wrote a novel called Seeing Sky-Blue Pink in which Maddie, the main character, had Perfect Days with her mother. They would go the library and when they crossed the park, Maddie would rub the left hoof of the horse statue for luck. They topped off The Perfect Day with a maple walnut sundae at Rudy's diner.That's a Perfect Day? Those people didn't aim their sights very high.In a

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-39766895612683795332008-09-12T04:32:00.000-07:002008-09-12T04:46:55.616-07:00

Hello, Everyone! Welcome to Poetry Friday (both of you)! Eh-hem. Haven't you seen the "Journal Readers" thingie on our blog? You have exactly one reader.Well . . . welcome, Heidi! Here is our first offering for Poetry Friday. I plan to select older and forgotten children's poets. The Writer believes Robert Louis Stevenson is the finest poet for children. I like him too and will choose a

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-6322245179465422012008-09-11T02:47:00.001-07:002008-09-11T02:52:22.548-07:00

The Writer has finally set up her brand-new scanner and yesterday she began scanning stuff. Look! What the heck is that?It's one of her old book covers she scanned. There's white space on one side and the light bounces off it.Okay, she doesn't know how to do it perfectly. Give her time. She'll figure out how to get rid of the weird margin.Yeah, Rome wasn't built in a day and all that.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-8305470034905595422008-09-10T06:06:00.000-07:002008-09-10T06:39:30.982-07:00

Hello, everybody (both of you)! Welcome to my new column, Vintage Wednesday. Every Wednesday (well, maybe I'll miss a few--life does get in the way), I'll review a vintage children's book: picture books, storybooks, fiction, nonfiction, and even old books on children's literature.Today we're going to look at a new series The Writer has recently discovered: Lolly Pop Books.These books are 3" x 4,"

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-62882920780556777072008-09-09T04:30:00.000-07:002008-09-09T04:45:42.377-07:00

Hee-hee! Look at you! It took The Writer and her husband all their might to push you in the carrier.That's because I'm the strongest cat in the world.No, it's because you barely fit in the carrier. You wouldn't be in this fix if you'd stopped sneezing like I told you.How can you stop sneezing? You got a sneeze inside--it has to come out, you dumb sack of stuffing. You're just grumpy because you

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-91383210131522551782008-09-08T12:18:00.000-07:002008-09-08T12:46:10.764-07:00

Why is the blog up so late? Monday is almost over!Shhh. The Writer isn't feeling well again. She had a bad weekend.What is with her? I'm going to trade her in for a new Person. One that's younger and not so puny... and richer so she can buy me all the kibble I want.Never mind. She told me what she wanted to talk about today--and it is still Monday. She talked to her students this summer about

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-66730307389122687282008-09-04T06:02:00.000-07:002008-09-04T06:16:35.248-07:00

There's a new Time Spies book out! We have totally forgotten to mention that Message in the Mountain, the latest Time Spies book, came out this summer. I didn't forget. I have to wear tiara in that book. I'm a princess at a tea party. You wear tiaras all the time. So what? Anyway, this book is a very exciting adventure in which the Chapman kids--and me!--go back in time to 1934. They land on top

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-49751049880290321702008-09-03T05:39:00.000-07:002008-09-03T05:50:21.072-07:00

Welcome to Vintage Wednesday. The Writer tells me what to write for Writing Monday, but I have my very own column, starting today.The Writer has a lot of vintage children's books--picture books, story books, readers, and mid-grade novels.That's an understatement. You can't move in this house for all the books. And The Writer keeps buying more!She can't help it, it's an obsession--hey, what are

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-56651477046382962632008-09-02T04:07:00.000-07:002008-09-02T04:26:36.691-07:00

Winchester! Hurry up or you'll miss the bus. It's the first day of school! Aren't you excited? We have matching bookbags. Is that what that thing is around my neck? I thought I turned into a Saint Bernard. I'm in first grade. You're in catergarten--again. Can I help it I like the snacks? And we get to take naps.My lunch is packed and I have all my school supplies. Best of all, I have

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-34084251329142360842008-08-28T04:48:00.000-07:002008-08-28T04:52:22.473-07:00

Here I am at the famous Sofa Bed and Breakfast. My vet said I'm suffering from exhaustion. I'm working too hard, trying to get more to eat than the pittance The Writer gives me. So I'm on a rest cure.Rest . . . rest . . . rest . . . must rest . . . I could get a job doing this.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-65251111106354705682008-08-27T05:41:00.000-07:002008-08-27T06:01:07.566-07:00

All right, she's been back from Hollins for weeks. But this blog has been pitifully neglected. Where is The Writer?The Writer is a bit under the weather. Her doctor told her to rest. So The Writer has cut back on her work schedule. Rest? If she rested any more, she'd be in a coma!And she took a little trip--To Alcatraz? Is she behind bars?--to Colonial Beach, a little town on the Potomac River.

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-24353693878711866482008-08-11T05:58:00.000-07:002008-08-11T06:12:58.820-07:00

When The Writer was preparing her lessons for her creative writing class this summer, she wanted her students to walk out at the end of six weeks with something they could submit. She also wanted them to learn to focus. The answer: writing small. Their assignments seemed simple: a nonfiction article, a personal experience piece, a short short story, and a short story. Most of the pieces were

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-8044836609672524482008-08-08T06:19:00.000-07:002008-08-08T06:34:55.708-07:00

. . . he fears this more than anything--more than the Mop in the Closet, more than going to the vet, more than being put in a cat carrier. Winchester is deathly afraid of...thunder!I see you under here. Come out. It's not even a real thunderstorm. Just a few grumbles. That noise is made by the great big Cat Giant who comes down out of the sky to gobble up highly intelligent black and white

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-32581875760506887892008-08-07T04:18:00.000-07:002008-08-07T04:33:24.287-07:00

It's 98 degrees in the shade. This summer heat is killing me.Winchester, it's 68 degrees in here. We have central air.August is a state of mind. It's a time of lazy afternoons, icy drinks on the front porch, little kids running through sprinklers.Every afternoon is a lazy afternoon for you. What're you drinking? Can I have a sip?It's chilled mango juice. Very tasty. And no, you may not have a

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4370624748498737304.post-49388416777348047992008-08-04T05:37:00.000-07:002008-08-04T05:55:20.945-07:00

At Hollins University, where The Writer was teaching creative writing in the graduate program in children's literature, The Writer was astounded to learn that most of her students, maybe all of them, worried whether or not they had talent. The Writer was shocked because she herself has never worried about talent.Maybe she should.Winchester! You're back!Why shouldn't I be? You're back. The

ellsworthhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03549292308994270668noreply@blogger.com2