Awhile back I came across this book at the thrift store:
I had to bring it home because I’m a sucker for old books with charming illustrations, especially ones that are unintentionally hilarious. I think it was even half price book day.
I considered using it for Ari’s eighth grade science curriculum for next year, but then I decided maybe it was more important to give him a fighting chance at getting into college than to throw away his education for cheap laughs.
I’m not sure what’s going on with this boy in the foreground. It appears that he’s fallen into a deep depression while his classmates have fun learning that sound exists and ears are why we can hear it. Someone should send him to the counselor’s office.
I think it’s when I saw this “experiment” that I knew for sure this book would not be helpful to us an actual source of science knowledge. This is in the bus safety section. You know: physics, biology, chemistry, and….bus safety. These children appear genuinely shocked to learn that, if your school bus goes careening down a steep hill and runs full speed into a wall, AND you’re standing up on the bus, you’ll get hurt. Thank goodness those other dolls are sitting down. They have nothing to worry about. At any rate, I think even Abe’s knowledge of science has advanced beyond this book’s scope already.
I am inspired to do more experiments involving fire with the kids, though. The mothers in this book are kind of creepy. But what I like about them is that they get up every morning, put on their pearls, and help their kids learn about science.
So, anyway, the book sat on a shelf, alone and useless, for a few months.
Across one wall of our dining room, we have this length of twine with clothespins on it that has, at various time, held anatomy prints for Halloween, our Advent calendar one Christmas, some vintage flower prints last spring, and the Christmas cards people sent us this past Christmas. I like having such an easy way to change things up in there. But ever since I took the Christmas cards down, it’s looked like this:
It finally occurred to me that my lonely, useless science book and my empty clothespins could get together and help each other out.
I did a quick check on ebay to make sure my book wasn’t worth a gazillion dollars (or, like, twenty), and then I started chopping it up. I made a template out of cardboard (I’ll skip the part where I didn’t think to actually measure the book first, so my template was too big and I had to keep slicing more of it off until it was the right size):
And here they are hung up:
It is not lost on me, incidentally, that between my kitschy vintage science book banner and my plans for whimsical squirrel fabric covered chairs, there’s some tonal disconnect going on in this room now. I am thinking the sad pilgrim painting might be making a big move into the sunroom before long. Although I have no idea what I’ll fill that giant wall with once they’re gone. Maybe I’ll take a picture of a squirrel and blow it up to cover the whole wall.
Or maybe something….else.