I was a sophomore in high school when Sarah, Plain and Tall was published, so I missed out on reading this delightful children’s book. I bought it for my girls for Christmas, and we found time over the cold, quiet weekend to read the book together.

What a beautiful story.

I won’t tell you about it — you can read a review here. But I wanted to tell you how interesting it was the way we responded to reading this book together. In this story, Sarah likes cats, and she likes to draw. My daughters and I talked about how nice Sarah must be, since she takes care of animals — and how God loves people who are kind to animals.

While I read, the girls got out some crayons and drew. My six-year-old drew a picture of our fluffy prodigal cat (who ran away but came home), and my nine-year-old drew a variety of little pictures.

When I finished Sarah, Plain and Tall (which was quite short, only 67 pages!), I felt like reading more — so I read the girls a couple of stories they’d written a year ago, when our hamster died. They loved hearing me read their own words, just like I’d read Patricia Maclachlan’s.

Then they each got busy writing something new — which they couldn’t wait for me to read. If you’ll indulge me a minute, here’s what they wrote (along with their pictures):

A Story of Briar Rose (by daughter, age 6)

One day, a little sweety pie named Briar Rose the great pie.
She is not really a pie, but we call her that because she’s really qute.
One day when Mama was reading Sarah Plain and Tall, Briar Rose interrupted my story I wrote when I was in kindergarten by doing something very qute.
She was in the side of the under the couch laying down.
Oh how she loved the warm air coming out of the vent.
Oh how I can’t stand how qute she was!
I could not even sit down because guess what Briar Rose sat down instead.
One time Briar Rose ran away from home. And did not come back for a very long time. We missed her so much. But one day she got sick, and had to come back. We took her to the vet and we saw our grandmother. She had a ear enfeckshen [the cat, not the grandmother] and she tilted her head when she walked. Now it is still tilted.
And still very qute.

(Oh, I almost hated to have to tell her that “cute” is spelled with a “c,” but the teacher in me must do these kinds of things.)

You Can Learn Your Pictures Too! (by daughter, age 9)

Practice these pictures. You can practice drawing, saying, writing, and find these pictures in places around your home. Try to find them in stores too!

Star, Rain, Teddy Bear, Flower, Blue Circle,
Ice Cream Cone, Grass, Rose, Pictures, Potato,
Milk, Juice, Water, Lake, Chick, Swan,
Snow Man, Rabbit, Grapes, Yellow Triangle,
Book, Ball, Jelly Biscuit, Punch, Shirt, Pants,
Skirt, Dress, Rocks, Inchworm, Hearts (Blue and Red)

What would we have missed, as a family, as a mother and daughters, if we’d watched TV instead? Since I can’t stand kid shows, I would have most likely been in a separate room doing my own thing, while they sat in front of the TV.

Or even if we’d watched a movie together, a good family movie, they still wouldn’t have responded with their own pieces of writing — I don’t think. Although watching movies together can be a good bonding activity, it still doesn’t even come CLOSE to the interactive joys of reading together.

I guess that’s why I’m so nuts about books!

I’d love to collect a bunch of parent/child literature responses like mine here — parents who read out loud to their children and experience something exciting — and then teach a workshop of some sort (when my kids are older).

In contrast, here’s an article from today’s Scottsman’s News: Children’s TV is Linked to Cancer, Autism, Dementia. Yes, TV does more to our children than make them fat and lazy; it can damage their minds and bodies.

Read with your children!!!

This is a picture of our little prodigal kitty, Briar Rose. She ran off for a while to live with the neighbors, but she came back a few weeks ago. God is good. We missed her.

P.S. Yes, she is as soft as she looks. Can you believe I get to go pet her? Right now. And she doesn’t mind being picked up by children — she seems to thrive on the attention. Gotta love this cat.

Here’s something new I learned today. In case you’ve ever wondered …

Did you know that one cat can produce 420,000 descendents in a seven-year period? I just happened to read that statistic on the wall of the mobile vet we visited today. We took our last cat to be spayed this morning, thus ending our saga, “The Tale of Three Kittens.”

Two years ago, a friend let us adopt her three kittens, a male and two female siblings. We thought it would be fun to let our kids enjoy one litter of kittens. HA! Well, that’s an understatement. We had several litters, and it got to be a full-time job for me finding homes for these kittens. They were cute and fluffy — but the situation got a little out of control.

When I was trying to find homes for our litter last summer, one lady who was interested in a new kitten called me to chat. Within a few minutes, it was clear that she was grieving. Her family pet had recently died, and she wanted to tell me all her favorite stories of the amazing things her cat did.

I’m not much of a phone talker at this stage in life — unless it involves what child needs to be picked up at what time where. Listening to a stranger tell me stories about her cat was too much. At the time I was trying to cook dinner with five children screaming in the background.

It’s interesting where all these little kittens live now — we gave many away to family and friends. One of my cousins sends me snapshots of her two — as if I were their grandmother. Now there’s a thought.

So I just finished giving our calico cat (named “Calla” of course) her antibiotics, as she recovers from surgery. Did I tell you I’ve gotten pretty good at administering medicine to cats? Our two mama cats both got mastitis this summer, poor things. They needed antibiotics for a week. It’s actually much easier to squirt pink stuff down a cat’s throat than to entice a toddler with pink “yukky” medicine on a spoon. Don’t you think?

I’m tired. I just got back last night from a looooong trip to Maryland. I wanted to blog, but I didn’t want to think — so there you have my 420,000 cats post. Maybe that’s something you can share at your next dinner party.

The Carnival of Beauty this week is hosted by Blair at her site, Scribblings by Blair. Our topic is “The Beauty of Art.”

When I was eight years old, my parents paid for me to take art lessons at a painter’s house once a week — it was a thrill and so different from what I learned at school. We painted with acrylics, and I carried a red metal tool box filled with my paints, brushes, and natural sponges to class. I can still remember the creaking sound the box made when it opened, and how the paints and sponges smelled.

I also recall being on the verge of tears nearly every class. I was so petrified that I was a terrible painter. There were two or three of us on one side of the room who were children, and the rest of the class on the other side of the room were adults. I remember one lady spent weeks painting an intricate picture of violets. Everyone seemed to have so much talent and to know exactly what they were doing — except for me!

One night, our teacher asked us to imagine a bookshelf lined with our favorite things. She wanted us to come to class the next week and be prepared to paint “My Favorite Things.”

Can you see what I chose to paint? On the top shelf is my “Heather” doll — I still have this sweet doll. I always loved playing with dolls, not the Barbie type that looked grown up, but the kind you could dress and carry around. I even had a signed Little People doll, named Frances Blanche, who I changed into tiny pajamas every night and dressed in the morning — for years. My friends and I made birth certificates for our dolls and sewed them little stuffed animals! So, it’s obvious I wanted to grow up and be a MOM — my #1 dream.

Next, you can see I’ve always been crazy about the beach — the shells are supposed to represent my love of the ocean. We always collected buckets of shells on our family trips to the beach. My parents took us every summer — traveling used to be so modest back in the 70s. The expense was nothing like it is now. We usually stayed right on the beach in a little motel that had a kitchenette. My parents got us so excited about these beach trips — maybe that’s why I’ve always loved the beach.

I’m not sure about the basket of fruit — did I like fruit that much? Maybe I just liked the bright colors and thought they’d look good in a painting. I do eat fruit every day now — usually an apple. And I hardly ever get sick. I can’t around here!

The cat is interesting; why did I choose to paint a cat? We didn’t have a cat growing up — we had a little gray poodle. Now of course I’ve become a cat person. They make such great pets! I’ve always loved animals of any sort; maybe the cat is supposed to represent pets. If you’d asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said, “A pet shop owner.” I was too squeamish to want to be a vet. But I thought it would be fun to have a shop full of animals. (hmmm … our zoo around here is similar to what I had in mind, actually.)

And last — Cinderella. I’ve always loved good stories with happy endings. I love to read them; I love to tell them. And gradually, I’m learning how to write them.

Thanks for indulging me in my walk down memory lane. How about you? What are your favorite things now? Were they always your favorites? What would you have painted when you were eight years old? Like words, art helps us preserve our memories.

For those of you who’ve kept up with this, Stacy wrote to say that Boswell came home yesterday! Her cat has been missing for 15 days, and she’s been so worried. She and her husband have had Boswell since they first got married, over 12 years ago. So, he’s a family member.

Welcome home, Boswell! (You can go see his picture here.)

Today is Saturday, so that means our prodigal cat will come home for the day as well. It’s the strangest thing. Briar Rose leaves us during the week, but she comes home to visit her siblings and nieces on Saturday afternoon. Every week. One of our kids will point out, “Look! There’s Briar Rose!”

She’s a white, fluffy ragdoll cat, and I’m sure she’s taken up residence with someone who gives her more attention than we do. She smells like perfume when she comes home. Now wouldn’t that be a fun children’s book to write? Briar Rose the Perfumed Cat. Where does she go when she disappears?

Briar Rose and Boswell are keeping some secrets from us!

My cats don’t like me very much in the morning. When I approach them with my rise-and-shine chippery voice and try to pet them, they snake away from me and line up at the gray Rubbermaid box that says “Cat Food.” I used to let this bother me – why do they like their Meow Mix more than they like me, the giver of their Meow Mix?

Then I realized — Oh, it’s because they’re hungry. They don’t want petting when their feline bellies are growling. They want me to fill up their bowl with something crunchy that tastes like chicken of the sea.

I say, people on the internet are like cats. We surf to a site looking for something we need to fill a certain spot. We’re in a hurry – we’ve got to order those plane tickets or find out about that weird insect bite or keep up with the news (and other people’s blogs). We don’t care about being pampered.

So, about this blog. Some of you are surfing in because you’ve done a parenting search on Technorati. And now you discover all I do is talk about my kids – I’m not really an expert on parenting. Well, I’m not! Sorry. This is what you might hear at my house. “Mom! I can’t eat my piece of pizza now because he breathed his yukky boy breath on it!”

I’m not a cat expert either – but I love their soft fur, how they purr when you rub their backs, how they romp around to chase butterflies while you sit and watch. You ought to see our two-week-old kittens now. Their mother moved them to a cardboard box inside our garage.

I wrote a blooper in an email to my sister yesterday and she called me very upset. “I’m so sorry your cat ate all her kittens!” she said.

“What? Our cat didn’t eat her kittens!”

“Well, you said that your Mama cat ate the hamster and her babies.”

“No, no…I meant the cat got back into the house and got the hamster and the hamster’s babies.”

“Oh!” She sounded quite relieved. Yes, we’ve discovered cats and hamsters don’t go together too well. Since there’s much more of a cat to pet, we’ve nixed the hamster idea permanently.

So we’ve still got our kittens. Maybe I need to post a picture. They’re going to be smart country cats. They even like to be petted!

Just wait until they discover seafood-flavored Meow Mix.

The weather is changing here in Georgia. It’s becoming cooler, and tonight it was breezy outside, so I could almost imagine I was sitting out near the ocean. I was petting one of our cats, and I realized a slow evolution has taken place at our house: we’ve become cat people.

I didn’t have a cat growing up. Our family had one dog most of my childhood, along with an assortment of caged feathery and furry creatures and, for a while, a horse. We did acquire one stray cat during my high school years.

Now, we’ve discovered cats to be good pets for kids. They’re pretty low maintenance if you have to go out of town for a day or so. Our cats stay outside and spend most of their days hunting mice or sleeping on the porch. We have three permanent feline pets, and one who drops in on the weekends smelling like perfume. We’re not sure where she spends her week.

Last summer, two of our cats had litters, and it was my job to find homes for 11 kittens. It was an enlightening experience for me. One lady called several times and wanted to talk about her old cat that had recently passed away. She told me story after story, and I could tell she was really grieving. Thankfully, she adopted one of ours, and I hope she’s beginning a new happy chapter of her life.

The other people who adopted our kittens routinely call us and tell us how spoiled they are, and what they’re getting into. Just like they’re describing children. “You won’t believe what Merlin and Lancelot did today,” my cousin told me. “They’re just breaking all the rules and climbing into the silver punch bowl in the dining room. Can you believe that?”

I checked, and we’re not alone in our cat ownership. According to a United Press statistic, 34% of American households claim to own a cat. That means people in nearly 100 million homes are petting a cat today.

In our extended family, all of our siblings own cats. And both sets of our parents own cats. Altogether, that’s at least a dozen.

Underneath our porch we have four new kittens. I know what you’re thinking. OK! I told everyone that as soon as my son started preschool I would take the cat mamas to the vet to prevent future litters. But it was too late. Now, I’ll soon be starting the process again of finding new homes.

Since it’s October, maybe these kittens will make perfect Christmas presents for someone. They’re adorable and of course kid-friendly. Any takers?