Last week, I was in San Diego, and it was warm. So warm we walked around
all day in t-shirts, our jackets at the hotel a distant memory. Back in
Erie, it's snowing, so it's back on with the triple layers. Better yet,
it's back on with a snuggly blanket and a cozy book, and a perfect
selection for this situation is Arnold Lobel's Owl At Home.
Lobel has long been a favorite of mine, particularly with his Frog and
Toad books, which cram so much tenderness and comedy into 60-some pages,
most of which contain illustrations. Also an I Can Read book, Owl at Home
is just as endearing and just as easy to read, but it's quite different
in that there is basically only one character. So we don't have
opposite personalities here, just one mild-mannered owl living all alone
but trying to occasionally find friendship in the world around him. The
book's illustrations are predominantly shades of brown, and we get lots
of pictures of Owl puttering about in his pajamas inside his very
comfortable home.
In The Guest, Owl politely invites
Winter into his house after he hears it knocking on the door.
Considerate soul! But not too cunning, and alas, all his kindness
backfires on him when Winter proves to be a most ill-tempered
houseguest. A very funny story.
Strange Bumps is a hoot
too; as with many Lobel characters, Owl seems to be middle-aged but
often acts childlike, and here he is pestered by night terrors when he
looks down and notices that he is sharing his bed with two mysterious
bumps. Whatever could they be? Of course, they turn out to be nothing to
be afraid of; they've always been there, and I just find it curious
that he never noticed them before. This is a cute story about facing
nighttime fears, and children should get the point, even if Owl doesn't
quite manage to...
Tear-Water Tea is a strangely
melancholy story; Owl decides to brew a cup of tea with his own tears,
and in order to do so he thinks of the saddest things he can imagine.
The images he conjures are both silly and poignant; the list reminds me
of my friend's six-year-old niece, who burst into tears upon remembering
that she had dropped a bag of Skittles while staying at a hotel with
her dad and they had all rolled away. Most adults wouldn't cry over
"spilt milk," something good gone to waste, but there's a deeper sense
of appreciation that goes with feeling that loss acutely. I'm especially
touched by Owl tearing up over "mornings nobody saw because everybody
was sleeping," accompanied by an illustration of the sun rising
gloriously over quaint little town, and I know that I would be upset to
find that a book I had begun to read could not be finished because there
were pages missing. A thought-provoking tale.
Upstairs and Downstairs reminds me of A Walk to Remember,
in which one of the dreams of young heroine Jaime was to stand in two
states at once. Here, Owl wants to be both upstairs and downstairs, but
no matter how quickly he runs, he can't be up and down at the same time,
and so he must always be missing one or the other, though since he
lives alone, there can't be much happening in either location if he
isn't there. Owl's eventual compromise acknowledges the reality of the
situation in a satisfactory manner.
Owl and the Moon
closes the volume. After an evening at the seashore, Owl is pleased to
discover that the moon has risen and seems to be gazing at him. He
concludes that they must be very good friends, and he is sorry that they
must part, but it's time to go home. What a nice surprise, then, when
the moon begins to follow him. But surely such a round fellow can't fit
through his door. What is Owl to do? A cute story that reminds me of
James Thurber's Many Moons, in which a clever jester finds a way to fulfill the wish of a princess desperate to have the moon brought to her.
Owl is such a sweet character, it's a shame he only appears in this one
book. But it is a great comfort to have these five stories to return to
on lonely or blustery days. We all could use a little Owl in our homes.
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