There is nothing new under the sun. Oh, Ecclesiastes, how I love you. Just. People. Go read it. And read it again. All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again. All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new…
An acrostic poem is the kind of poem that looks like this: Piecing words together On paper like this Emits a certain Memory Well, that’s just the first thing that came to mind. Do you get what it is now, though? Acrostic is not often used as high literature, but it is a fun way to help kids write poetry. We use The Good and the Beautiful language arts, level 2. It’s good. It’s beautiful. It’s free. It’s absolutely sufficient…
Mornings are hard. I know I’ve written about this before. I’m not complaining (though, admittedly, I have complained about it in the past.) I’m simply stating it out of recognition. There is a difference between complaining and recognizing. Complaining says “Oh man, I am upset about the way this morning is going, and I’m going to choose to stay upset about it.” Recognizing says, “Mornings are hard.” Then, maybe, “How might they get better?” One way to make a hard thing…