The Treasure Hunter

Today I will send you another song I loved long ago. I still want to sing it when I’m alone. It may sound sad to you today, but to me it always sounds beautiful

Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed. Some say love it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed. Some say love it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love, it is a flower, and you it’s only seed.

It’s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It’s the the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance. It’s the one who won’t be taken, who cannot seem to give, and the soul afraid of dying’ that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely and the road has been to long, and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong. Just remember in the winter far beneath the winter snows, lies the seed that with the sun’s love in the spring, becomes the rose.

As I wrote this today I also sang it, and I wish I could do that for you now. But maybe it’s better for you not to hear my old cracking voice.

Deer friends,

I feel that it is very important for me to communicate with others. You may not need that action, but I do. Here, at the River Mark, only about five to ten people are visible at any time, and they have little to say or do. Of course I am no better than anyone else.

My biggest problem is not waking up on time to exercise because I stay up too late at night in order to watch the news. (My clock is working, but not making any sound to wake me up.) Fortunately, this morning I did wake up on time and got to exercise. (Aren’t you thrilled to get that information?) Believe me, if I had anything more interesting to write I would include it. (Just be grateful that I can still spell words.)

To my knowledge, nothing much is happening here and everybody is bored or boring. However, a poster claims there will be a film in the auditorium this afternoon. If so, that will be the first one for me and I am eager to see it. I’ll let you know what it was tomorrow.

I do watch television, but I am not good at finding things worth seeing or hearing. (Managing the machine is not one of my skills.)

Well, that’s all the news I have for today. Tomorrow I will try to post a new song instead of blabbering. Stay well everyone, and if you are able, tell me what you are doing, even if it is just eating and scratching your nose.

Joanne

I suspect that many other people are in the same shape I am now in, but I don’t want to complain about that. My only wish is to share a song with you–if you are interested. If, not, shut me down before I begin.

How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail before she sleeps in the sand? How many times must the cannon balls fly before the’re forever banned? The answer my friend is blowing in the wind. The answer is blowing in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist before it is washed to the sea? How many years can some people exist before they’re allowed to be free? How many times can a man turn his head pretending he just doesn’t see? The answer my friend is blowing in the wind. The answer is blowing in the wind.

How many times must a man look up before he can see the sky? How many ears must one man have before he can hear people cry ? How many deaths will it take till he knows that too many people have died? The answer my friend is blowing in the wind The answer is blowing in the wind.

God bless all of you. Writing helps me to think, so I hope it doesn’t bother you.

Since there isn’t much to do these days, I try to go from one task or game to another every half hour. At least that keeps me from falling asleep. I also go to my computer frequently to see if there is anything new there and usually there is. But right now I have decided to write because I have something to say.

The topic I have been reading about almost everyday is reading, and most of it supports Phonics (a word I have only recently learned to spell). In fact several of the words I read from phonics supporters are unknown to me. Clearly, we are operating on different levels, and maybe in a different world. To me there version of teaching reading appears strange and unnecessarily difficult to learn. I am certain that it wasn’t the way I learned to read or the way I taught students to read. I can’t except the idea that those methods no longer operate successfully.

Why should reading be any different today from what it was twenty years ago when I was a teacher? Are the students I taught then unable to read now? I can still read books, newspapers, and the bills I need to pay. So I don’t understand why Phonics supporters claim that their version of reading is the only one to be taught today. Can anyone explain that to me?

As a successful teacher of reading in the past, I am willing to accept the possibility that one way of teaching works better than the other for certain children or because the world has changed over time. I just don’t want us to live with an angry dispute anymore. Would it be possible–and reasonable– for every public school to offer a choice to parents and their students? Would doing that result in peace or war within a building? Please give me your opinions or knowledge. I am willing to consider your knowledge and experience

Joanne Yatvin