Gratitude

Be genuine.

Grow soft and lift your heart to feel grateful.

Stop everything and listen when someone has a story to tell.

Take time to say "thank you" and to write thank you notes.

Discover the extraordinary in the ordinary and admire it.

--Ellen Haas, Coyote's Guide to Connecting with Nature

At the Wilderness Awareness School Mrs. C and I attended, outdoor activities are structured around a foundation of Core Routines for connecting with the natural world, the "learning habits" by which Howard Gardner's "naturalist intelligence" is developed. Gratitude is one such practice, one of the "things people do to learn nature's ways." Coyote's Guide to Connecting with Nature explains that "taking a moment to see the grace in elements of the natural world--frogs, rain, berries, or the sun--deepens our relationships with each one. Thanksgiving reinforces the interdependence of all living things." A routine of appreciation for "the things around us that support our lives" helps us turn our attention to the positive, to all that is right in the world. This is something like the "acknowledgements" we share at the end of each week during our class meeting--little handwritten notes documenting appreciation for those among our class whose acts and words help our classroom community continue to be a peaceful learning place. But this Core Routine of gratitude goes a step further in that it not only calls attention to what is going well with people but also to what is going well in the natural world around us. It calls us to offer conscious appreciation for the ways in which this supports our simple yet miraculous ability to be alive every day. "Discover the extraordinary in the ordinary and admire it."

The traditional Thanksgiving Address of the Iroquois Nation begins with people and then in turn notices that which is beautiful on the earth, in the waters, among the plants, animals, etc. Today, I begin with People, as well.

In a place that typically receives regular summer afternoon showers, we have had a record-breaking hot, dry summer. While Fluffy and I were adventuring far from home, we went an entire month without rain. I was feeling very impressed with the hardiness of native plants when I returned to school to discover that not only had our class butterfly garden survived, but it had flourished over the summer. Then another teacher clued me in that a neighborhood mother and grandfather (belonging to a first grader who will be joining our class this year) had been watering our gardens this summer! In this heat, that is a serious gift. It has also been a gift to take a moment from my frantic preparations to look out our big classroom windows onto a little patch of green buzzing beauty.

Thanksgiving also for family and friends, who fearlessly follow me off the deep end into absurdly messy, sweaty classroom projects. Thanks go to my patient mother who willingly waited without complaint while I debated over just which bulletin board border would look the very best in our classroom, which small lamp would best brighten our dark corner, which pitcher would be right for our landform work, the most attractive whiteboard to replace our bathroom sign-out board, and which white paint to use.

I am probably one of the few who regularly recruits the folks with advanced degrees to help paint her elementary school classroom (but then again, maybe not!). In my defense, this particular friend offered--well, mildly mentioned to my parents, "Doesn't she need any help painting or anything this year?" Before 24 hours had passed, she was swept into a faithful band of volunteers assembled to spend hours painting in my classroom last Sunday afternoon. Such "mild mentions" are dangerous at this time of year!

Regardless of your politics, I firmly believe that the work we do with children can't be done in isolation. No one can single-handedly raise a beautiful, healthy, happy human being without help. It really does take "a village" to do this well. Deep gratitude for all of you out there who are members of my village and for those who allow me to be a part of yours!

Maria Montessori wrote, "We are the sowers--our children are those who reap. We labor so that future generations will be better and nobler than we are." May it be so.

Breathe

I got home last night feeling weary and raw. Although teachers are on district time two weeks prior to our first day with students, very little of this time is allocated for classroom preparation. Instead, most of it is scheduled with meetings and professional development presentations. Even more maddening, some of these seem so far afield from our invigorating, interactive work with children that one wonders if the planners respect teachers as creative, trained professionals at all. As I trudged back to the Metro Rail after a particularly painful program at the George R. Brown last week, I contemplated becoming a taxi driver. (Cab riders of the area, fear not! I am well aware that I do not have the navigational skills to be a taxi driver--missing internal compass and all, but this gives you an idea of my state of mind.)

The result of having our time consumed this way, when there is so much that must be done in the classroom, is STRESS. I feel as if Mrs. D and I have been running a marathon the last two weeks--squeezing as much as possible into the short amount of time allotted, trying to make the most of lunches and brief breaks to laminate, label, cut, copy, collate, paste, paint, and prepare. I have spent hours at school on the weekend and late into the evening, in addition to many more hours at home, trying to get everything ready for The First Day. Mrs. D is up at the school today, organizing the school's lunch cards to reduce the inevitable cafeteria first-day fiasco that takes place when ID cards are not prepared to be swiped by the cashier. Feeling pulled in too many directions, with too many tasks crying out for immediate attention at once--and not taking time to eat a reasonable lunch--produced serious grouchiness on my part yesterday afternoon. The kind where I get very quiet and it's best just not to talk to me or ask me any questions for a while.

When I finally left Friday, the classroom was physically "ready," but I was still feeling scattered and unfocused and unready. "But you said it was pretty much ready," pointed out one very logical and confused family member. True. But I wasn't. Getting ready goes deeper than preparing the environment--making purchases; organizing; cleaning and sequencing materials on the shelves; labeling cubbies, notebooks, folders, pencils, and erasers; copying and collating; storing supplies; adding attractive touches like paint and artwork and flowers. Beyond all those dirty details, it is the mental/spiritual preparation of the teacher that's important. Most of all, I've been mourning the lack of time to just sit and reflect on the coming school year, the space to think big thoughts. And I haven't had time to Blog! This act of writing about our work together began as a way to showcase some of our more exciting classroom activities, but it has become a reflective practice. Writing--and thinking--about what we do has added depth to my work and I missed it.

Aline Wolf writes, "A few years ago I spoke with a beautiful young Montessori guide who told me that in August after she finished painting her shelves and arranging all her materials, she sat down in the center of her classroom and meditated for a lengthy period of time, trying to prepare herself to be part of a loving and peaceful environment. . . . This young woman was aware, I think, of the sacred responsibility of the teacher to be a model and a presence to the children. Teachers are the biggest, most prominent and influential element in their classrooms. Therefore it is vital that their manner reflects the order, the beauty and the peacefulness of a true Montessori environment."

Dinner and sleep helped. Art helped even more. This afternoon, wondering if I should really be taking the time, I hurried off to a Block Printed Fabric class at Sew Crafty. Ahhhh. I was not the only one who felt the relaxing effects. Someone else in the class called it "therapeutic." I was forced to set aside time and allow my mind and body to be enveloped by something other than school. This is not something new. I already know this. I think my best thoughts in the shower and on my walks--when I relax my body and let my mind wander where it may, looking at the world with Owl Eyes. Creativity has the same effect. Ahhhhh. Breathe.

This is where I thank my past self for kindness to the present me. I signed up for this class back in July, when I wasn't yet in the throws of First-Day frenzy. I was aware that the class was two short days before I'd be greeting and shaking the hands of 26 children at the door of my classroom Monday morning. And I signed up anyway because I also knew that it would be good to take time out to just create, time to stop my mind from chewing the same cud and begin to think big picture again. Breathe.


Lessons Learned:
* Remember that children need time for reflection, too. Even though it doesn't necessarily look productive, allowing learners the time and space to ponder and percolate is tremendously important.
* Remember that art is more than creating something beautiful. In the process, the mind is freed for bigger work.
* Remember to feed yourself, both literally and figuratively. Nurture yourself--body, mind, and soul. If you don't take time for this, you'll have little to offer to others. Breathe . . . and eat lunch!

"When you discover something that nourishes your spirit and brings you joy, you must care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life."--Aline Wolf

Dirty Feet

As it turns out, Fox Feet work a whole lot better without shoes. In a part of the world joyously void of the hazards of poison ivy and fire ants and searing cement heat, it is delicious freedom to be able to strip off shoes and socks and run around in the woods barefoot! To be able to peel off the protective coverings in which we usually coat our feet and allow them to directly connect with the earth, sensing and touching the way hands often do, was a surprising bonus. Imagine spending life with stiff, puffy, padded mittens over your fingers and then suddenly being allowed to take them off and feel the world! (Mrs. C and I also had to curb our instinctual avoidance of "leaves of three" in order to enjoy some suspiciously three-leaved plants with edible berries--"Leaves of three, leave it be!" screamed our brains.)

One of the first games we played was "Firekeeper." A "firekeeper" sits blind-folded and cross-legged in the middle of a circle, guarding the "fire" (a set of keys or something equally jingly-jangly), while those of us on the edge of the circle take turns quietly sneaking into the center to steal "the fire" without detection. The firekeeper listens intently with perked Deer Ears for evidence of sneaking, and if she points in your direction, you must return to the edge of the circle. Off went everyone's shoes. It is impossible to sneak with big, heavy, inflexible boots that loudly crunch every leaf and stick in their path.

Having practiced our sneaking skills in an organized setting, we were ready to play "Wildlife is Watching," a game that requires "prey" to hide off-trail in the forest while "predators" slowly Fox Walk down the trail using their Owl Eyes to search for less camouflaged prey. In this game, my bright red t-shirt was a distinct disadvantage, but this pushed me to curl up on the ground under the cover of ferns and stay very still and silent . . . for a LONG time . . . while predators hunted. At my new close-to-the-ground eye-level, I had a chance to carefully observe tiny critters crawling about that might otherwise have gone completely unnoticed. My leg hurt where I had unwittingly pressed it against a sizable twig, but I didn't want to move for fear the sight and noise of movement would attract the attention of my predators (including Mrs. C!). Because I couldn't see the trail from my hiding spot, I had to use my Deer Ears, listening with intensity for when the predators had passed and I might safely readjust position without revealing myself. Mrs. C didn't hesitate to assure me that my red shirt had loudly announced my presence, despite my quiet crouching. Ah, well.


Of course, all this barefoot bliss means that Fox Feet are very very dirty. With the well on the property running low due to drought, drinking water was prioritized over bathing--and showering was not an option. I considered a Fox Feet photo to document the dirty, but we live in a culture that values cleanliness as a barrier to bacterial badness and as a symbol of elevation from poverty and our more primitive roots. (I think some of our parents and administrators might have been scandalized to the point of questioning my personal hygiene and perhaps my judgment in general.) More than once, I stared in amazement (and a pinch of pride) at my dirty feet, hardly recognizing them as my own. It was good to step out of my city-girl shoes for unencumbered play outside, but I must admit it was also good to give those dirty Fox Feet a serious scrub in the hotel shower at the end of this adventure.


Favorite quotes from the Elders who joined us for the weekend:
"If something is worth doing, it's worth doing poorly at first."
"So little to do . . . and SO MUCH TIME!"



[NOTE: Fluffy enjoyed forest life so much, he decided to attempt an overnight "Survival Quest." He reveled in his night alone in the woods, but I worried so much I rented a car the next day to facilitate a rescue mission.]

Ready, Fox Feet?

Start Walkin'!












The other day my brother and I were talking (via Skype because he's currently living in Germany), and he asked me, "So, do you have your fox feet and your owl eyes ready?" I hope so! I am so excited about the upcoming adventure Mrs. C and I plan to share. We are flying halfway across the U.S. for Wilderness Awareness training in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains (in beautiful Washington State). I am currently puzzling over how to lash together all my camping gear and clothes so that they can masquerade as one "carry-on." Somehow I don't think the good folks of Continental Airlines will be fooled. Fortunately, Mrs. C. is bringing the tent!


Hmm . . . the sleeping bag, pad, towel, utensils, and water bottle fit into the suitcase, but I do think they'll be expecting me to wear clothes . . . . . .




After spending several weeks last summer learning outside (first in a marine ecology program where we snorkeled multiple times a day and a few weeks later in a paleontology field school with days of digging in the dirt) and then reading Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv, I became acutely aware of the importance of taking my students outside the classroom. We have always gone on regular field trips (as often as once a month, many of them outdoors), but for the past year or more, I have been excited about engaging children in outdoor "field work."

A key component of Montessori is "the prepared environment" (the classroom with its careful organization and attractive, developmentally appropriate learning materials). However, Dr. Maria Montessori also writes of the importance for the elementary child (ages 6-12) to explore the world beyond the classroom walls. I think this is where some teachers become uncomfortable. How can we allow children to explore independently in the "scary" outdoor world? A natural outdoor environment can't be "prepared" (or controlled) for the child in the same way that a classroom can. Instead, it is critical to prepare the child. We do this by reviewing potential hazards, learning how to move quietly and increase our awareness of what's around us, and (in lieu of rolling shelves of hands-on educational materials) carrying a backpack "fieldkit" filled with the tools necessary for "field work."

I realize the distinction between "field trip" and "field work" may sound like semantics, but this seemingly minor shift in language represents a big shift in attitude. While I have long acknowledged the importance of helping children appreciate nature, approaching our outdoor field trips as "field work" has pushed both me and the children to value our time outside more deeply and use this time differently. No longer passive spectators in the outdoor world, the children are engaged participants. They walk quietly so as not to disturb the inhabitants of the forest. Their senses are heightened, ready to noticed something fascinating. They are alert to sounds and signs (scat, tracks, and other evidence), using them as clues to the mysteries of hidden animals. As explorers, scientists, detectives, collectors, storytellers, and artists--engaged in "field work"--the children are developing a deeper connection with nature.

I can't wait to learn more!
(Thanks to Amy Beam for introducing me to Wilderness Awareness School and "Coyote Mentoring.")


"Let the children be free, let them have fair play; let them run out when it is raining; let them remove their shoes when they find a puddle of water; and when the grass of the meadows is damp with dew, let them run about with bare feet and trample on it; let them rest quietly when the tree invites them to sleep beneath its shade; let them shout and laugh when the sun wakes them in the morning." --Dr. Maria Montessori, The Discovery of the Child

[UPDATE: I did it! Possibly a new level of packing prowess (in addition to stubborn determination), I have managed to squeeze into my small rolling suitcase the sleeping bag, pad, towel, bathing suit, mug, plate, bowl, utensils, clothes, hat, extra shoes, etc., etc., etc. . . . before midnight!]

Books for children:
Nature Detective: How to Solve Outdoor Mysteries by Eileen M. Docekal
Crinkleroot's Guide to Walking in Wild Places by Jim Arnosky
Field Trips: Bug Hunting, Animal Tracking, Bird-watching, Shore Walking by Jim Arnosky
Wild Tracks! A Guide to Nature's Footprints by Jim Arnosky
Tracks, Scats, and Signs by Leslie Dendy
The Other Way to Listen by Byrd Baylor
Beachcombing: Exploring the Seashore by Jim Arnosky
Big Tracks, Little Tracks: Following Animal Prints by Millicent Selsam
Jim Arnosky's Wonder Page


Resources for adult mentors:
Coyote's Guide to Connecting with Nature by Jon Young, Evan McGown, Ellen Haas
Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv
City Kids and City Critters! Activities for Urban Explorers by Janet Roberts & Carole Huelbig
Field Detectives: Investigating Playground Habitats (AIMS)
Schoolyard Ecology Teacher's Guide (GEMS)
Sidewalk Field Trips
Project WILD
Simple Nature Experiments with Everyday Materials by Anthony Fredericks

Food, Glorious Food!

Great minds think alike. Not only is visiting a farmers' market listed in my Summer Homework packet, it's also number 37 in 101 Places You Gotta See Before You're 12! On our trip, Fluffy and I had an opportunity to visit a market and check out some interesting vegetables. You can too--scroll down to read about four farmers' markets right here in Houston!

"A farmers' market is about so much more than fresh vegetables (although those are pretty awesome). Depending on where you live, you might find: musical entertainment; handmade soaps and lotions; fresh honey with the honeycomb still in the jar; or homemade cider, jams, and jellies (and usually lots of free samples!). A farmers' market changes with the seasons, so you'll never see exactly the same place twice. . . A visit to a farmers' market is a great way to find out about what grows in your area and be close to your food source."

Little known fact: In college, I took a "Sustainable Agriculture" class with environmentalist David Orr. It was not so much about wanting to become a farmer (never a personal goal). In a culture of packaged, processed, faceless, fast, far-from-home food, it was about reconnecting with the land and that which sustains us. Here are a few more benefits of eating local food . . .

Connection: You'll develop a sense of time and place as you begin to learn what grows in this soil, in this climate, in this particular season. You'll also come to see yourself as a part of the local food chain.

Energy & Ecology: Buying food that was grown nearby means that it hasn't been transported across the country--or halfway around the world--like much of what is in our grocery stores (next time you're there, check the labels to see how far those tired puppies have traveled!). In turn, this means less fuel consumption and less pollution.

Flavor: You'll get fruits and vegetables that were selected for flavor rather than their potential for becoming world travelers.

Freshness: With local farms, there is less time (and distance!) between harvest and your home.

Health: Often the choices at farmers' markets include produce without pesticides and meat, dairy, and eggs from animals without antibiotics or growth hormones.

Relationship: Not only will you get to meet, face-to-face, the people who grow your food, you will also build relationships in the kitchen and at the table, as you slow down enough to prepare and consume fresh food together.

Economy: When you buy food from the farmers who live near you, you are helping to keep our city's economy strong--and keep your neighbors employed.

Houston Farmers' Markets:

Bayou City Farmers' Market: Every Saturday, 8am-noon (rain or shine); Near Richmond Ave. & Eastside, in the parking lot behind 3000 Richmond

Midtown Farmers' Market: Every Saturday, 8am-noon (rain or shine) @3701 Travis St., inside & outside t'afia restaurant; Chef Monica Pope offers FREE cooking classes every Saturday at 9:30am

Houston Farmers' Market: Tuesdays, 3:30-7pm @2100 University Blvd., Visitors West Lot of Rice University campus; Saturdays, 8am-noon @3106 White Oak, behind Onion Creek Coffee House

Central City Co-op Green Market: Sundays, noon-4pm (except August) @1500 McKinney St., on the Andrea & Bill White promenade in Discovery Green Park



Kids in the Kitchen:
Fanny at Chez Panisse by Alice Waters


Local Food Inspiration & Resources for Adults:
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver
Reasons to support sustainable/local/slow food
Urban Harvest
My Life in France by Julia Child
Fresh from the Farmers' Market: Year-Round Recipes for the Pick of the Crop by Janet Fletcher
The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters
Chez Panisse Vegetables by Alice Waters


Garden-to-Table Programs for Children:
Edible Schoolyard: A Universal Idea by Alice Waters
Inside the Edible Schoolyard Classroom: The Garden Companion
The Edible Schoolyard program (Berkeley)
The Edible Schoolyard Lessons & Recipes
Chefs in Schools program (Houston)
Recipe for Success Foundation (Houston)
Seed-to-Plate Nutrition Education (Houston)
Kids Cooking Green (Lexington, MA)

Up to the heighest height!

Fluffy and I were busy getting up high during our summer adventure.

We hiked up mountains,







climbed 200 stairs to the lookout at the top of a famous bridge pylon,







cruised over a rainforest canopy in a "skyrail" aerial lift,






had dinner in a revolving restaurant,





floated over farms in a hot air balloon,
and logged a grand total of TEN airplane flights.

OK, it is possible I am showing off . . . just a tad. It was the hot air balloon that pushed me beyond the edge of what can be reasonably construed as humility, wasn't it?

(Though he may look precarious, not a hare was harmed during the making of these photographs!)


Tall, Taller, Tallest
Here in Houston, we can't claim any mountains (unless you want to count "the hill" at Hermann Park) and, with Astroworld closed, I'm not aware of any aerial trams, but there are several places where you can go up high and look down on the city for FREE! In fact, Houston is home to the tallest building in Texas! (I'll leave it to you to do some internet sleuthing to discover which building holds this title.)

Chase Tower Sky Lobby: Take one of the express elevators to the 60th floor and look down on the city! (FREE!)

Wells Fargo Plaza Sky Lobbies

Spindle Top (revolving) Restaurant [Currently closed but reportedly reopening soon--Hyatt Regency Downtown]



Books to send you soaring up through the atmosphere . . .
Hot Air: The (Mostly) True Story of the First Hot-Air Balloon Ride by Marjorie Priceman
Building BIG by David Macaulay
Hottest, Coldest, Highest, Deepest by Steve Jenkins
Looking Down by Steve Jenkins

A reason to watch

OK, so my 12-inch, knobbed, rabbit-eared television (which I inherited from my grandmother) is kaput after "the conversion," and I am experimenting with being a TV-free household. (The Knobbed Wonder is still here, but the only channel it produces is a very fuzzy view of what I gather through the static must be Telemundo.)

I am also house-sitting for my parents, who have an embarrassingly impressive flatscreen TV (my mom is embarrassed--not my dad, but then I'm not sure embarrassment is in his emotional repertoire). Theirs is far from kaput and, post-conversion, now produces a whole new array of non-cable TV channels (including PBS's 8.2). Sunday night, I was over there watching "History Detectives." Just as I was about to head home to squeeze in my 5 miles before darkness, I happened upon a completely new PBS "reality" gem: "Time Team America."

I know, I know: "But Ms. S., you're always telling us to turn off the TV and get out there and see the world." Yes, my little (and big!) adventurers, that is true, but oh my goodness, this show is fun! All the excitement of field work from the comfort of your home. Even Ms. Frizzle, our sometimes-substitute, might approve! (Though, I'm pretty sure she'd also tell you, "Take chances, make mistakes, get messy!" which, let's be honest, you really can't do from the couch!)

History was not my favorite subject in high school. I just didn't enjoy memorizing the dates and details of battles. After high school, though, I was lured in by the PBS living-history "House" shows. I've also discovered that in practice, history is really about mysteries--and that's where it gets exciting! The adventure of investigation! Archaeologists, paleontologists, and historians are all about digging up clues and putting together the pieces of the evidence puzzle to construct a picture of the past. Amazingly, these scientist-historians find a tiny little scrap of something (be it a two-centimeter potsherd or a tiny hunk of bone) and in their minds, they can visualize the whole thing! They are explorers, detectives, puzzlers, and scholars all in one.

That's what this show is about: A team of archaeologists, scientists, historians, artists, and diggers has 72 hours to dig up some buried secrets of the past! The first episode featured "The Lost Colony" of Roanoke Island and a search for evidence of the homes of America's first English colonists. The second episode of "Time Team America" airs Wednesday, July 15 at 7pm (Central). Meanwhile, you can check out some of their field techniques online!

It also turns out there's a "House" show I haven't seen!


Dig into the Past:
Archaeologists Dig for Clues by Kate Duke
Eyewitness: Archaeology by Jane McIntosh
Dig magazine
In My Own Backyard by Judi Kurjian
Ms. Frizzle's Adventures: Imperial China by Joanna Cole
Ms. Frizzle's Adventures: Ancient Egypt by Joanna Cole
Ms. Frizzle's Adventures: Medieval Castle by Joanna Cole
Felix Travels Back in Time by Annette Langen
The Magic School Bus in the Time of the Dinosaurs by Joanna Cole
Finding the First T. Rex by Kathleen Zoehfeld
Did Dinosaurs Have Feathers? by Kathleen Zoehfeld

A Radical Rock Formation/ Fluffy Clue #5

"Nature is a better sculptor than humans could ever hope to be--it just takes its time creating its works of art. Nature uses wind and water as its tools, wearing away a little bit of rock and stone every year until it creates a fantastic sculpture. It may take tens of thousands (or even millions) of years to complete, but what's the rush?"


Number 69 in 101 Places You Gotta See Before You're 12!


Now, this is a challenge near and dear to my heart! Fluffy and I spent a few hours cozying up to a famous rock formation, and in the process, I happily snapped over a hundred photos . . . of the same big red rock.



What can I say? I love rocks--and as rocks go, this monstrous and magical monolith is reason itself for a 15-hour flight across the ocean! Magnificent! Dare I say? . . . it rocked my world!


The good news is that you don't have to cross an ocean, or even leave the state, in order to snuggle some super-size stones! If you're out visiting the bats near Fredericksburg, you can easily scoot on over to Enchanted Rock for a hike. Go early to avoid the heat and secure a parking spot, and be sure to take plenty of water! (Park entry fees for ages 13 and over)

OR head north to Palo Duro Canyon, dubbed "The Grand Canyon of Texas," in the Panhandle near Amarillo. This state park recently celebrated its 75th anniversary!


'Cause sometimes a few pirate jokes just aren't enough to get you through the day:
"What did the metamorphic rock say to the igneous rock?
Don't take me for granite just because I'm gneiss."

"What did the sedimentary rock tell his teacher during a test to become a metamorphic rock?
This is too much pressure!"

"What will the rock genie do with your wish?
He'll granite!"

Clue #1
Clue #2
Clue #3
Clue #3.5
Clue #4

Fluffy Clue #4

With Fluffy acting as helmsman of our sailboat, we had the good fortune (and great surprise!) of spotting orcas in the harbour--lots of them (maybe 8 or 10, including a few calves)! We're talking forget-to-breathe, hop-up-and-down exciting! It made my day, maybe my whole trip!

Even the crew of our sailboat were excited! Apparently, orcas rarely make their way into the harbour. Our crew speculated they may have been lured closer in, chasing some favorite foods: sharks and stingrays.

Clue #1

Clue #2

Clue #3

Would you, could you, on a boat?

With Fluffy looking so very "Ahoy, matey!" I decided to tally up the number of boats on which we traveled during our summer adventure,
and the total is . . . SIX!

Fluffy even got to pilot a sailboat!



3/4 of the Earth's surface is covered by water. So it should come as no big shock that water transportation has played an important role in human history for thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of years. For this Spirit of Adventure challenge, you will need to board a boat. Located so close to the coast, this shouldn't present too much of a challenge.

You may visit A Floating Museum, which #70 in 101 Places You Gotta See Before You're 12! suggests is "your chance to experience life at sea without having to eat hardtack or getting scurvy."

• The Texas Sea Port Museum in Galveston is the home of the 1877 tall ship ELISSA and a good place to start your boat adventure. (As adults, a couple of my high school friends volunteered on the ELISSA, climbing up and down masts and among the rigging, in order to qualify for the ship's all-volunteer sailing crew!)
• The Battleship TEXAS is another option.

To ride a boat that is going somewhere, hop on the Galveston-Port Bolivar ferry. This FREE service is provided by TxDOT to connect State Highway 87 between Galveston Island and Bolivar Peninsula. (Check the ferry schedule and be aware that TxDOT is currently operating a limited number of ferries. At peak times, there may be a considerable wait for motorists.) As a bonus, ferry riders can often spot bottlenose dolphins spyhopping and playing in the ferry's wake!

OR you may prefer #76. A Working Port
"A port bustles with activity day and night, bringing together people (and boats!) from around the world . . . the intersection of land and sea is a fascinating place to be."
There are a couple of local options:

• A FREE 90-minute boat tour of the Port of Houston (Reservations are required 24 hours in advance of the tour)
• Visit the Port of Galveston

Resources:
Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss
101 Places You Gotta See Before You're 12! by Joanne O'Sullivan