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Blackaby, Susan. Brownie Groundhog and the February Fox. Illus. by Carmen Segovia. Sterling, 2011. Ages 4-7.

If you’re seeking a whimsical read-aloud for Groundhog’s Day, you’ve found it. Brownie Groundhog and the February Fox sparkles with wit and sly charm. Brownie is a clever groundhog that meets a hungry would-be predator on a cloudy February 2nd. The fox tells her, “Hold still…. I’m trying to eat you for breakfast.” Brownie’s flip response is that it’ s simply too late for breakfast. The two find they both hate to wait. Brownie suggests the fox work up an appetite by clearing the snow off the pond. Segovia’s humorous image shows the fox putting his fluffy tail to good use. Alas, after all that effort, it’s too late for lunch, says Brownie. Then the tricky groundhog leads the fox to a tree and winds her scarf around and around the fox, binding him to the trunk.

Brownie’s little heart is touched, though, as she hears the fox’s plaintive cries. She decides it’s time to share what’s in her basket: cocoa and cinnamon toast. The crumbs attract a robin — the first sign of spring! The two new friends leave for home, pondering their next adventure. The illustrator’s note describes how Segovia first conceived of this engaging character one winter as she sketched a groundhog. Her wintry palette, splashed with the fox’s red, is as refreshing as that impromptu picnic.

Enhance a snowy story with the cold facts, perfectly described and displayed in

Cassino, Mark and Jon Nelson. The Story of Snow: The Science of Winter’s Wonder.. Chronicle, 2009. Ages 4-9. You’ll be singing songs of snow, glorious snow after reading this snappy little informative book. Cassino and Nelson reveal the scientific nature of snow by using an accessible format featuring a brief fact in a large type size, then giving details in smaller text. Readers will learn of the three major types of crystals (star-shaped, plate and columnar), as well as other interesting facts. (It’s the molecular structure of water that creates the six-sided crystals, for instance.) The superb illustrations include both spectacular photographs that beg to be shared and Aoyagi’s ink and watercolor diagrams that show how a crystal develops from a speck of soil, pollen, or other substance, and then develops into an intricate six-sided beauty. Also noteworthy are the clear instructions on catching and examining snow crystals — just the trick for getting readers to venture outside to explore wintry wonders.

More and More Snow …

Alarcon, Francisco X. Iguanas in the Snow and Other Winter Poems. illus. by Maya Christina Gonzalez. Children’s Book Press, 2001. Fresh poems, often written with an unusual perspective, grace bright and beautiful pages showcasing poems in both Spanish and in English.

Andersen, Hans Christian. The Snow Queen. Trans. and retold by Naomi Lewis. Illus. by Christian Birmingham. Candlewick, 2008. Ages 8-10. Don’t miss Andersen’s most beautiful fairy tale, a source of inspiration for C.S. Lewis and other fantasy writers. Of the many versions available, Lewis’s is the one you want. This memorable wintry tale begs to be read aloud: “The cloak and cap were made of snow, and the driver ah, she was a lad

Demi. The Hungry Coat. Margaret K. McElderry, 2004.

“Once upon a time in Turkey there lived a funny, little wise man named Nasrettin Hoca. He wore a huge, white turban and a worn-out coat made of patches upon patches. Riding about on his little gray donkey, he liked to help whomever he could.”

When Nasrettin sets out to visit a friend who’s having a banquet, he encounters a caravan getting wrecked by a frisky goat. Because he stops to help, Nasrettin finds he doesn’t have time to change his dirty clothes before visiting his friend. He finally arrives, but  instead of the friendly, cheerful welcome he expects, he is ignored. Nasrettin slips out and returns, this time wearing an elegant silk coat. The host promptly invites him in and gives him all the fine food previously denied him. But Nasrettin has a trick up his sleeve; he starts to feed his coat instead of his belly! Children will love chanting the refrain “Eat, coat, eat” and as they participate in the story, they’ll understand what Nasrettin’s host should have: It’s wrong to judge a person by his clothes. Demi’s gorgeous paintings feature the motifs and colors of traditional Turkish art and brighten this lively tale featuring Turkey’s famous folk hero.

More Tales of Hospitality

Becker, Bonnie. A Visitor for Bear. Candlewick, 2008. A grumpy bear posts a “No visitors” sign outside his door. But a bright-eyed, friendly mouse keeps popping in and opens Bear’s eyes to his need for companionship.

Leodhas,  Sorche. Always Room for One More. Illus. by Nonny Hogrogian. Caldecott Medal. Lachie MacLachlan lives in a “wee house in the heather” in Scotland, with his family of twelve. He always welcomes every weary traveler who wanders by in rough weather. His guests show their gratitude in a delightful way that continues to charm readers young and old.

Kinsey-Warnock, Natalie. Nora’s Ark. Harper-Collins, 2005. Based on the Vermont flood of 1927, the author tells a memorable story of how a girl’s grandparents welcome neighbors, chickens, ducks, pigs, a horse and a cow into their home on the hill as the waters rise and uproot their community. The humorous, detailed paintings by Caldecott Medal-winning artist Emily Arnold McCully evoke the dangers of the flood and the warmth of a kitchen filled with kind people and good cheer.

Muth, Jon. Stone Soup. Scholastic, 2003. Muth retells a beloved old French folktale and transports it to China. Instead of hungry soldiers, he features three monks who know the importance of community in making people happy. This picture book presents a feast for the eyes, heart and mind.

Ryan, Pam Munoz. Mice and Beans. As Rosa Maria prepares for a big family party, some mice are planning their own festivities. Even though Rosa Maria sets mouse traps, the mice save the day when they notice she forgot to stuff the piñata.

Rylant, Cynthia. The Relatives Came. Aladdin, 1993. It’s a full, full house every year when the relatives come bumping up from

Recently on one of the listservs I'm on, someone asked whether anyone knew what the movie Penelope was based on. There is a book by Marilyn Kaye, published in 2007, but the person asking the question thought the story originally came from an older folk tale. I was intrigued by the question so I did some web searching, and here's what I found. It turns out the movie IS actually an original screenplay based on an older tale and not the Kaye book. In fact, the book seems to be a movie tie-in product. The book itself says "Adapted from the screenplay by Leslie Caveny" and the movie website describes Caveny's creative process in coming up with the story. (A number of the reviews I saw online incorrectly state that the movie is based on Kaye's book, which is a shame. Caveny should be getting complete credit for her idea!)

In interviews, Caveny mentions that she based the movie on a folk tale, but she doesn't provide any more detail. My searching led me to believe the folk tale is probably that of Tannakin Skinker, a woman born with a pig snout whose only hope of having a normal face is marrying. It's pretty obscure: the only mentions I found of it are in scholarly works. Below are a link and an article excerpt for anyone interested.

There's a lot of information about the story in Jan Bondeson's The Two-Headed Boy, and Other Medical Marvels (in fact, there's a whole chapter about hog-faced women!).

This excerpt is from Kathryn Hoffmann's Of Monkey Girls and a Hog-Faced Gentlewoman: Marvel in Fairy Tales, Fairgrounds, and Cabinets of Curiosities:

"... It was the tale of Tannakin Skinker, the hog-faced gentlewoman. A fifteen-page pamphlet that told her story bore the following title: 'A certaine relation of the hog-faced gentlewoman called Mistris Tannakin Skinker, who was borne at Wirkham a Neuter Towne betweene the Emperour and the Hollander, scituate [sic] on the river Rhyne. Who was bewitched in her mother's womb in the yeare 1618 and hath lived ever since unknowne in this kind to any, but her parents and a few other neighbors. And can never recover her true shape, tell [sic] she be married' (n.p.). Tannakin's parents had, in typical fairy-tale fashion, 'very lovingly lived together, without any issue' for a long time, their lack of child 'being no small griefe unto them.' Mother Skinker, having finally conceived, to her great joy, makes the common fairy-tale error of refusing alms to an old woman who was heard to say, as she departed: 'As the mother is hoggish, so swinish shall be the Child shee goeth withall.' Miss Skinker is subsequently born with a snout and must be fed from a trough. A famous artist (who also happens to be a mathematician and an astronomer) predicts in equally familiar fashion that marriage, but only of course to a gentleman 'who would take her to his bed after loyall matrimony,' would cure her state. The promised dowry of forty thousand pounds supposedly attracted suitors from throughout Europe, desirous of the hand and the dowry (if not the face) of the maiden, willing to try their luck at transforming her back into human form through marriage."

Now who would be dumb enough to steal the Wienermobile? How far would a car thief think he could get in a giant hotdog shaped vehicle whose license plate reads YUMMY and which plays the Oscar Meyer theme song as it drives along?

There are some dumb criminals out there, but it's hard to believe that any car thief would be that dumb. But the cop who stopped the Wienermobile as it drove through Arizona thought he'd hit the dumb criminal jackpot.

I'd really like to know more about this cop, the one that that ran the Wienermobile's plates. How bored was he? He had nothing else to do but check out a suspicious hot-dog car? I know the stretch of I-10 where the Wienermobile was nabbed very well. The average speed is 95 mph and, that close to the Border, you see some pretty questionable vehicles. Surely the Wienermobile was probably the least suspicious thing on the road that day.

Add to the hilarity the fact that the Wisconsin police had accidentally logged the Wiener's plates as stolen--oops. The cops thought they had made the arrest of the century and would surely be rewarded by a grateful Oscar Meyer with free tubesteaks for the rest of their lives. The rubbernecker whizzing by the traffic stop at 95 mph were probably thinking, boy I'm glad I'm not an Oscar Meyer Wiener. And our poor sausage: I'll bet he had a hot minute or two while he was being grilled by DPS...

(Sorry, I couldn't resist!)

Anyway, mistake was cleared up, and the Wiener was released to continue spreading heart-stopping porky goodness across the country, sorry for the trouble, sir, enjoy your stay in Arizona and drive safely.

Happy ending, yay!