Seedfolks

I really enjoyed reading this story - I read it from cover to cover in one sitting. I don't think I changed positions more than once! Fleischman did an excellent job of weaving together the lives of characters, all diverse in culture and walks of life. This story illustrates human interaction in the smallest of moments: walking down the street, looking out the window, and even driving down the road.

I definitely had some favorite stories, like the old man in a wheelchair with his caregiver who was just so excited to have dirt on his fingers. And the man who planted Lateesha's tomatoes, waiting for the smallest acknowledgment from a window. And, of course, the young girl who started it all. Driven by a need for acceptance or recognition from her dead father, Kim started a good deed that bloomed into a community. I was also taken with Sam, the man who tries to patch up the world, one person at a time. I was surprised to learn that the word "paradise" comes from a Persian word meaning "walled park". How incredibly appropriate! In his wisdom, Sam realizes that the garden is turning into a miniature Cleveland: fences and barbed wire dividing cultures and people. This is an insightful look at human nature itself. Given a wide space, people carve out places for themselves, creating boundaries and territories. It's just what we do. (We also have a habit of staring out windows at our neighbors. In this story, Anna first suspects Kim of hiding drugs in the space behind the refrigerator until she finds the truth. In my neighborhood, I have a love/hate relationship with neighbors who stare out their windows all day. The speed limit here is 15 mph. Enough said.)

Paul Fleischman's writing is very thoughtful. It is obvious that he took time writing and editing, considering the thoughts and feelings of each character. I was sad that each character was only focused on for one chapter, but then I got really excited if a familiar person showed up in someone else's story. I found myself noting several passages to keep in my notebook. Here are some of them:

"Over the narrow, bumpy path we went, his nose and eyes working. Some remembered scent was pulling him. He was a salmon traveling upstream through his past." p 47

"Gardening boring? Never! It had suspense, tragedy, startling developments - a soap opera growing out of the ground." p 49

"Here you have a million crabs living in a million crevices." p 58

"You can't see Canada across Lake Erie, but you know it's there. It's the same with spring." p 68

Milkweed

In this story, a boy with no name and no family ends up with both. It is the story of the Holocaust from the perspective of a young, small boy. He has no background but is told he's a Gypsy by his older friend Uri. He is told his name is Misha Pilsudski. He doesn't have any memory of his family, but he adopts this identity as if it was his from birth, holding on dearly to the yellow stone around his neck that he believes was given him by his father. Eventually, Misha befriends a girl named Janina and gets himself adopted into her family. Now, Misha is Jewish and lives in the ghetto in Warsaw, Poland, guarded by Jackboots (Nazi's) and Flops (Jewish bullies elected to keep the others "in line"). Together Misha and Janina escape from the ghetto through a hole in the wall to get food from Heaven every night, the other side. Misha is a runner, small and nimble, built for this particular task. He believes it is his role in the world.

I have a really hard time reading about the Holocaust. I usually cry a lot, affected by everything I read. With this one, I at least knew Misha wouldn't die...surely Jerry Spinelli wouldn't do that to his readers! What I did really find inspiring, though, was the way Spinelli continued the story even after the Holocaust was over. There were many quirky characters and plot turns to keep the story moving, but when it was all said and done, it was all about Misha. Because the focus wasn't necessarily the war, the story kept going as Misha lived his life into adulthood. For most of his life, he was really lonely, and never shared the story of Janina (his best friend and sister) with anyone, keeping Janina all to himself. I've been considering that maybe he kept Janina to himself because he felt guilty that he couldn't save her or her family, like he was supposed to. My heart breaks for him when he stands on a street corner ranting about the horrors of the war, tearing up copies of Hansel and Gretel whenever he finds them, eventually marrying and then losing his wife. Though the end is a whirlwind of his life and the majority of the story is during the war, it is necessary because the war had such an impact on his life. Many of the details of his life ended when Janina was taken.

This is a great book for historical fiction. In the interview with Jerry Spinelli at the back of this edition, he notes that he researched for months before he began writing. I'd be interested to know where he got the idea to name the novel Milkweed and integrate it in the story. I imagine he wrote about milkweed (dandelions) first, and named the novel last, as the milkweed symbolized hope in the ghetto.

Sidewalk Circus

Sometimes I have a difficult time with wordless picturebooks because I flip through them too quickly. I’ve gone back to “read” this book a few times now, and I’m noticing more and more the use of shadow to make the circus come alive. Against buildings, ordinary people are transformed into performers with banners displaying their heroic efforts. The girl in this book is drawn with color to stand out in the shadowy audience of blurry faces waiting on a corner – she matches the colors of the city circus instead. Her face changes as she watches the events around her unfold, likening them to the circus. She claps for the clowns flying through the air, is nervous for the construction worker/tight rope walker, puts her hand to her mouth for the dentist and patient/daring sword swallowers, and even covers her eyes for the window washers/flying trapeze brothers. When she leaves her seat, she is replaced by a bright-eyed boy in colorful clothes.

I’m not a huge fan of the circus, but I believe its appeal is in death-defying feats or silly actions that draw a response from the audience, specifically kids. For a living, these performers do extraordinary things that cannot be found anywhere else! In this book, Fleischman and Hawkes have created an extraordinary world out of the ordinary. I am curious about how Fleischman and Hawkes worked together. The book is “presented by Paul Fleischman”, but there really isn’t any text. Does that just mean it was his idea and he needed an illustrator?

Al Capone Does My Shirts

When I picked up this book in the library, I wasn’t entirely sure what it was going to be about. I didn’t know a lot about Al Capone or Alcatraz, but I found myself completely absorbed in this book. I thought about it whenever I put it down, reluctantly at that. I finished the book over spring break while camping in Great Smoky Mountain National Park (yeah, I’m that girl who will take a book anywhere) and I was so excited about it that my boyfriend finally said “ok, tell me about it”.

One of the most interesting parts of the book, though, was the explanation at the end. Gennifer Choldenko did a wonderful job of incorporating so many small facts in her fictionalized story that the Author’s Note was really a ‘behind the scenes’ look at Alcatraz around 1935. I have no real prior knowledge about Alcatraz, but I did remind myself that this was during the Great Depression, which comes through a little bit with the characters and any discussion of money. The warden’s daughter tries to manipulate everyone she can, taking advantage of her position as the warden’s daughter. At one point, she enlists the help of the other kids on the island to conspire in her laundry scheme, in which she and Moose convince kids at school (not on Alcatraz) to send their shirts home with them for a nickel-a-piece so they can be laundered by convicts, particularly Al Capone. Choldenko did a great job of capturing the innocence, naïveté, but also intelligence of these children.

The main character, Moose Flanagan, is tall for his age (10) and has a sister, Natalie. Though Natalie is 15, her mother tells everyone that she is 10, year after year. Natalie actually has severe autism, but this was in a time before autism was officially named. In her note, Choldenko mentions that the character of Natalie “is not meant to symbolize or represent autism in any way”, though she also describes some characteristics of autism and how they fit into Natalie’s character. She was actually modeled after Choldenko’s sister, who had autism.

Over the summer I saw a 5^th grader reading this book, and though he couldn’t really talk about it much, he really seemed to enjoy it. There are many kid-characters that young readers can identify with. Though it’s a story about the kids on the island of Alcatraz, the heart of the story centers on Moose’s family, particularly their relationship with Natalie and the challenges they have as a family trying to get help for her while being supportive of each other. At many points in the story, Moose resents Natalie and being responsible for her, but of his entire family, his relationship with Natalie might just be the strongest. Moose’s love for his sister gives him determination and a strong will that leads him to ask for help in unlikely places. I would recommend this book to anyone, specifically for readers of historical fiction.

The Van Gogh Cafe

When reading this book, the reader has to redefine the concept of magic. For Rylant, it does not mean pulling tricks and rabbits out of a hat, but rather the small things in everyday life that people sometimes just write off as coincidence or even nothing. Rylant wants the reader to experience these tiny miracles as magic that fills your heart and changes your world. For young Clara, anything can happen at this café. Her father is an inspiration, for here is an adult that has not lost his sense of wonder to his age. Beyond just him, the whole town of Flowers, Kansas is an inspiration in their ability to accept magic and everyday miracles. While reading, I kept wondering what it would be like to have a place where life-magic happens often, but then I realized that the point of the whole story is that it could be anywhere and everywhere, small towns being included not the exception.

One thing I’ve noticed about Cynthia Rylant is that she really sets the stage for her stories. She uses ellipses to lead the reader into the next part of the story. Possible hooks include “This is their story…” or “What he found was a story worth telling…”. In the Van Gogh Café, Rylant ends many chapters with an ellipsis, helping the reader predict what will happen next. I also loved the language in this book, especially on page 5: “Kansas is like a tall person relaxing”. What an interesting perspective!

A short read, I enjoyed finding all the wondrous things that happened at this café just off I-70. I have actually been on I-70 – where was this café when I was stuck in Kansas? I think I remember getting lost somehow, coming into Kansas City. Maybe if I’d read this book before, I could have been a little more open-minded. I could’ve used some magic!

Nothing But the Truth

I had such a reaction to this book. The entire story is based on a small miscommunication that snowballs into a giant fiasco involving the school board and superintendent. Philip Malloy is in 9^th grade, and gets suspended from school for humming along with the national anthem during the morning announcements. I felt so bad for his teacher who got blamed for the whole mess. Here is a woman who challenges herself to be a stronger teacher, but because she sends a student to the assistant principal for making a disturbance during a moment of silence, she is disliked by a multitude of people around the country. People really lashed out against her with only one side of the story and when given a chance to respond, the newspaper does not print it. How often does this happen, where we make split-second decisions and react based on one side of the story? It’s tragic and difficult to read! I wanted to reach into the book and just fix everything, but of course I can only be an observer. Philip’s parents are included in this one-sided dislike for the teacher. Mrs. Malloy blindly believes whatever her son says, while Mr. Malloy is urging Philip to stand for his rights, knowing that he himself cannot do the same at his work. Meanwhile, the superintendent is trying to appease a man running for school board who also happens to be the Malloy’s neighbor. In the course of events, the school is trying to get a new budget approved, and while the superintendent is buttering up the candidate for school board and selling out Ms. Narwin (the teacher), the budget doesn’t even get approved. (This, as a side note, is a real disappointment. After much time spent in the papers, this school needed a triumph and good news to get them back on track. I couldn’t believe the school board rejected it.) This leaves Philip, who is no angel himself, just a 14 year old boy who wants to run track for his school and dislikes his English teacher because her class is too hard.

The book is written as a documentary novel, meaning it is only dialogue. There are no descriptive paragraphs, only conversations between characters in the story. Philip’s diary entries are the only sections not written like this, but they are needed to give a clear idea of his 14-year-old thoughts. I enjoyed having only dialogue, which illustrates how important speech can be throughout a story. It did not matter what any of the characters looked like or thought to themselves; all that mattered was what they said and did.

Ironic that the title of the story is Nothing But The Truth, but the only person who actually knows the truth is the reader. I kept hoping it would be resolved in the end, but the characters just went about their lives, glad the conflict has resided from headline news. I’m wondering what the author’s thoughts on this conflict really are – did Avi have an experience like this? If not, what was his inspiration? What is he really trying to say? I wish there had been an Author’s Note at the end explaining the origin of this story.

The Great Gilly Hopkins

I love Katherine Paterson, but have never really ventured beyond Bridge to Terabithia. Keeping an open mind, I finished The Great Gilly Hopkins in almost one afternoon, turning the pages quickly while trying to predict the ending. There are several tough issues in this book, including abandonment, anger, and racial prejudice, as Gilly Hopkins is a foster kid, moving from home to home and all the while searching for love and acceptance though she didn’t acknowledge it. Gilly found these things in an unexpected place with people she hated at first, but then grew to love.

I was surprised at the end! Not to be a spoiler, but I wanted Gilly to end up with Trotter and William Ernest instead of her grandmother. It wasn’t exactly a “happily-ever-after” kind of story – it was more “life is tough, let’s deal with it”, as I would expect from Katherine Paterson. Though Bridge to Terabithia was not a happily ever after story either, the character of Gilly is so different from either Jess or Leslie. Gilly is so much angrier and actually reminds me of Janice Avery, the bully from Bridge. It’s like her perception of the world is purposely warped; she is convinced her teacher hates her as a way to validate her own distaste.

There was really no mention of setting for this book other than one reference to the Metropolitan area of Washington DC. I thought this was interesting because the story does not depend on the setting at all – it is a story without place and time, which could happen anywhere to anyone.

The Giver

"'We don't dare let people make choices of their own...Definitely not safe,' Jonas said with certainty. 'What if they were allowed to choose their own mate? And chose wrong? Or what if,' he went on, almost laughing at the absurdity, 'they chose their own jobs?'" (p. 98)

I can't imagine a world without music or color. I'm vaguely reminded of Pleasantville and black and white tvs, but even then there was music. It's hard to imagine that in a future world people would willingly relinquish their individuality and human rights for Sameness, a less complicated and more structured life. True, there's no hunger, and true, everyone has a job and a family unit, but this utopia is only perfect on the surface. Jonas and the Giver are the only ones who understand true feelings - everyone else plays along, though there is no depth to their emotions. The community is not even allowed to play with language. Precision is valued above anything else - sarcasm would have no place (and they'd kick me out for sure). Strange, though, that precision is so honored, yet their term for flat-out euthanasia is just 'release'.

Here is a community that believes it can learn from the past, but that not everyone should experience those memories. I can't imagine bearing the memories of the world alone, the strength needed to face other members of the community and know their past even while they do not. In this perfect world, there is much deception, and yet those who deceive others truly believe it is for the good of the community. I've read this book a few times now, and always get chills when I remember that Rosemary was The Giver's daughter. How difficult it would be to place all the joy and then pain of the world on the shoulders of someone so young. On the other hand, wouldn't it be so helpful, especially for teachers, if we could transmit necessary background knowledge to kids? Wow, we could even regulate the background experiences to be all the same...differentiation wouldn't even be an issue. If that worked, we'd have a better grasp on the nature vs. nurture argument.

I've noticed a trend in futuristic science fiction novels that the government regulates the number of children in a family, usually to two (one boy and one girl is usually desired). This was the case in Ender's Game, a book I read recently, and also a newer book called Among the Hidden by Margaret Peterson Haddix and Cliff Nielsen. I guess population control is really on people's minds. In The Giver, there was little honor in being a birthmother. Another thing I thought was really interesting was the stressed need for interdependence. Though not expressed in love or good works toward others beyond volunteer hours, young children were required to wear jackets that buttoned up the back.

Though this is a short book and a quick read, there is much character development. Jonas is a sensitive and often articulate young boy who soon becomes much different than his robot-like parents and community neighbors. The Giver is, of course, very grandfather-ish and I imagine him to be like my own grandfather. In her writing, Lowry helps the reader identify with Jonas and The Giver quickly and emotionally in their struggle to face the outside world with their knowledge. This is the kind of book that requires some thought afterwards. I came back to the book and read the possible discussion questions at the end, but soon realized that I didn't want to think about Jonas and Gabriel possibly slipping into a cold-induced coma, remembering the joyful memory of family and love and holidays. I'd rather believe he had really found it, that it existed Elsewhere and would take him inside readily. Life is often ambiguous as it is...I need that happy ending.

The Flying Dragon Room

I was initially excited about this story because it was written by Audrey Wood, who is also the author of The Napping House, one of my favorites. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in this one. I even feel bad saying I didn't like it, but it didn't feel complete, as if it was only half of a story. It ended right when it was supposed to be getting started! The illustrations show Mark Teague's brushstrokes; there are bold colors and muted colors that bring out the well-defined characters.

Patrick and his family are repainting their house with the help of Mrs. Jenkins, who presents Patrick with her special tools and tells him to see what he can make. With these tools, Patrick creates a whole new world, each "room" named something new for his family to marvel at and enjoy. For example, there is a Subterranean room with creatures and plants that live in caves underground (though there is also a stone waterfountain), a Bubble room in which baby Sarah is carried off on top of a bubble, a Food room, a Jumping Room where everyone can defy gravity with twists and turns, a Snake Slide (which had no sides - too scary!), an adventure on the high seas, and an up-close-and-personal encounter with dinosaurs. True, these are exciting places, but where's the Flying Dragon Room? At the end, we find that Mrs. Jenkins created the Flying Dragon Room with her special tools and invites Patrick's whole family to come, but we don't get to see it! The book is titled The Flying Dragon Room, but we only get a taste of it at the end!

This story seemed very reminiscent of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It may have been a little more exciting if Willy Wonka showed up in the pictures...at least Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp. Thinking of how to use this book, it could be used for some interesting writing extensions. Students could write about the special rooms they would create for themselves, or maybe even write about the flying dragon room! It would be interesting to let them illustrate their own rooms. If anyone ever sees a good picture of the flying dragon room, let me know.

Baloney (Henry P.)

Back to my obsession with Lane Smith and Jon Scieszka, I've read this story a few times and am on a roll with my posts. Kids who love space and/or language would love this short story. Every page is "in character", even the title page which says "received and decoded by Jon Scieszka, visual recreation by Lane Smith". How fun! (Interesting that the title page uses all lower case letters and all the text afterwards is in capital letters.)

The story is about Henry P. who is late for school one too many times and is about to be given Permanent Lifelong Detention by his teacher, Miss Bugscuffle. Like many kids who are late and need a good excuse, Henry P. weaves a fanciful tale of, well, baloney. This is really a story that kids can relate to, and is great for figuring out words in context. At first, I thought that words like "zimulus" for pencil and "torraku" for truck were just nonsense words from the imagination of Jon Scieszka. I didn't figure out that these are real words but in a different language until I reached the long decoder in the back! What an awesome idea to have a story with words from languages of the world; this is only a gateway for getting kids excited to learn about foreign languages, and perhaps do some research on their own. Some of the languages represented are Finnish, Uqbaric, Maltest, Melanesian Pidgin, Inuktitut, and Latvian. There are also some fun spoonerisms ("sighing flosser") and transpositions ("cucalations" for calculations). I can only imagine the research that went into writing this book.

Baloney (Henry P.) is also a great start for a lesson on storytelling. Henry has an unbelievable story and each page is difficult to predict! The use of elipses carried the story forward as the reader just wants to know what happens next! I also made a text-to-text connection to Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. In his story, Henry P. lands on the planet Astrosus where he entertains the inhabitants with his "funny piksas". They wanted to eat him, but instead changed their minds and crowned Henry "kuningas" of the whole planet when he marveled them with "giadrams and cucalations". On a side note, I wonder if the Miss Bugscuffle even recognized that these words weren't just nonsense? Where did Henry P. learn all these words? What would you do if one of your students ever told an elaborate story like this, especially considering the language? I might just laugh and say "put it in writing".

The illustrations are so creative and truly caught my attention. With all the action throughout the book, the pictures carried a lot of meaning, especially when trying to figure out the meaning and context of the foreign words. They are a combination of drawings, photographs and what looks like computer graphics. Henry P has big eyes, freckles and looks like a kid.

Miss Maggie

This is one of the many Cynthia Rylant books I pulled from the shelves in the library. I read it pretty quickly and am not sure if I got everything out of it I should have. With Cynthia Rylant books, I think I get more out of them if they're read aloud and I'm given time to process the story. When I'm just reading for myself, I fly through and perhaps don't take the time to appreciate what is there. So I decided to go back.

The old woman, Miss Maggie, lives in a log house all alone. Her closest neighbor is Nat, whose grandmother sends him to Miss Maggie's house with buttermilk or beans. Nat's fear of Miss Maggie and the black snake that he believes lives with her keeps him from entering her house even when he's invited...until one day when he has to. On a winter day, Nat notices there is no smoke coming from her chimney. It is too cold to be without a fire, so Nat goes to investigate. He finds Miss Maggie sitting on her floor, holding a piece of cloth. In that cloth is a starling named Henry. Nat takes both of them to his grandad. In the end, we never find out if the starling lives, but I can assume it did not. From that moment on, Nat and Miss Maggie become special friends and when spring comes, Nat brings Miss Maggie a new pet, a black garden snake he has named Henry. Nat's good-naturedness and strength of heart helped him overcome his fear of the old woman. Sometimes it's the tough situations in which people just act instead of think that change the course of events.

The illustrations (done by Thomas DiGrazia) are what slowed me down the second time around. There is a sadness in them that captures the story. I was wondering why the illustrator chose to use only black and white. The only color is a faint green and blue on the front cover. But then I thought that this story is almost dream-like, a little blurred around the edges, "a story worth telling" as Rylant says on the first page. The first time I read this picture book, I wasn't crazy about it. But now that I've had to take the time to sit down and write my thoughts, I've found that I like it a little more. Aging is a difficult subject, but I think Rylant handled it tactfully and with grace.

p.s. - I was quickly searching for a picture of this book, and though I could not find one, I came across a site that was selling this book for over $50! I have a renewed appreciation for libraries that temporarily provide books for free.

The Midwife's Apprentice

I remember when almost everyone I knew was reading either this book or Catherine Called Birdy, both by Karen Cushman. I just wasn’t interested at the time, so I read neither. The Midwife’s Apprentice, however, received a Newbery Medal and I decided to catch up on what I’d missed. It is an engaging story about an orphan girl who goes from having no name, to being called Beetle, to calling herself Alyce after being mistaken for someone else by that name. She is taken in by the Midwife of the village as an apprentice, but the Midwife treats her like she is not worthy. After some successes and failures, Alyce runs away to an inn a few miles down the road and works there until some unexpected visitors from the village come to the inn. Alyce and her cat friend are reminded that the village was the only place they truly belong, even if being a midwife's apprentice was difficult and thankless. In the end, Alyce learns a life-lesson of inspiring work ethic. On page 117, Alyce says "I have come back. And if you do not let me in, I will try again and again. I can do what you tell me and take what you give me, and I know how to try and risk and fail and try again and not give up. I will not go away." Her dedication was a testimony to the self-esteem and appreciation she had gained throughout the book.

In more ways than one, this story is about birth. There is the obviously plotline of babies being born as the story is about a midwife and her apprentice, but then there is Alyce, lost and lonely, unrecognized by anyone in the world. On one particular day, she is helping sheer sheep and finds herself in a river with soap, washing down the wool. Unexpectedly, she washes off the caked-on dirt from her hands and legs, seeing that underneath her earthen shell, she is pretty and clean. In this moment, Alyce is reborn and rededicates herself to life and the many things she is able to learn, such as the alphabet, or the ability to sing. Her experiences bring her wisdom, but also friends and a make-shift family.

The character of Alyce reminded me of Miggery Sow from The Tale of Despereaux in that she was never asked what she wanted. Toward the end of the book, Magister Reese notices her and finally asks what it is that she would want more than anything. She thinks for a while about what most people would say: blackberry pie? new shoes? a snug cottage and a bit of land? Instead, she answers "A full belly, a contented heart, and a place in this world" (p 81). Fortunately, Alyce receives all these things.

There is a lot of historical information in this book. I would not expect young readers to understand everything that happens - they would really need to bring any and all background knowledge they had to this story, especially when considering some of the vocabulary. As an adult reader, I found myself questioning how much of it was real when it came to folklore and practice of midwivery. There are so many superstitions and wives' tales that I was having a hard time sorting out the truth. With this in mind, Karen Cushman included an author's note at the end with much research on the real history of midwivery. I learned so much! I don't know what I would have gotten out of this story 10 years ago when it was written, but I appreciate it now.

A Pocketful of Goobers

My roommate is a third grade teacher in Williamsburg. When I told her I needed to read biographies, she pulled this book out of the teacher bag and handed it to me, prefacing it as an easy read that she did with her 3rd graders. When I saw it, I thought "this book has 64 pages and very few pictures. I'm not in the mood to read, it will take forever." Fortunately, it really was a fast read and I finished in about 40 minutes, with a few breaks in between. There are 5 main chapters that consist of very short sentences. The text is very straight forward and very informational, and yet it is a story, not a textbook. There is some interesting language that keeps the reader's attention instead of letting them become passive. For example, "He stood fascinated this night by the beautiful voice of the choir director" p. 21. Hm, fascinated this night, not that night...it feels so recent. Carver was depicted as a real person, with successes and failures. George Washington Carver is a well-known name for peanuts, but it is not well-known that he stuttered, or that he was friends with Thomas Edison and Henry Ford. Often when I study one particular person, I forget to put that time in context and am always surprised when I find out how people are connected. It's amazing how much we take for granted, how much was already done for us by the time we were already born. Where would we be without goobers and their 300+ uses?

Pencil shading is used for the illustrations, though the front cover looks to be done with watercolor. Whenever I see pictures made with pencil shading, I'm gripped with this illusion that I, too, can draw if I only have a pencil. Alas, it never works out that way. This biography was also great for vocabulary, especially for an agricultural unit. There were many words I wrote down, but then many I also chose not to, such as goober. I grew up loving that word because that's how my dad refers to peanuts, but I just decided to write down the words I didn't know. Some of the ones I did keep were: pellagra (p 28), sorghum (p 35), and chemurgy (p 57). Overall, I felt like I had really learned something in my 40 minutes with this book. I enjoyed the section in the back titled "More about GWC" that offered more information that did not fit well into the flow of the story. I walked away with some interesting connections and a sense of gratitude for the accomplishments of those who came before me.