All Children Grow Up...

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, 'Oh, why can't you remain like this forever!' This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

The opening paragraph of Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie

The other night I overheard my husband reading these first lines of the book Peter Pan to our 7 year old.

Movie Night: It's all about the Pirates

In our house, we love movies, and lately there has been a fascination with all things pirate-related. Pirates, of course, are crucial to the story of Peter Pan and so it's natural that movie versions of Peter Pan would join our line-up for viewing. If you're familiar with the original story of Peter Pan then you may agree with me that the Disney version is a mere shadow of J.M. Barrie's book.

There is, however, a gorgeous live-action version of Peter Pan. If you want to track it down, it was released in 2003 and directed by P.J. Hogan (Jason Isaacs a.k.a. Lucious Malfoy plays Captain Hook.) It's truly magical...

Also in our pirate-related movie line-up are several versions of Treasure Island. Little Mr. B. & Mr. Bloom both favor this Disney version made in 1950...

And we all loved this quaint 1934 version directed by Victor Fleming. Shiver me timbers... A fine swashbuckling tale for any young scallywag.

Night-Light

"Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?" "Nothing, precious," she said; "They are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children." -- J.M. Barrie (Peter Pan)

I'm still dreaming Peter Pan dreams. We've been reading this book series and saw this show a few weeks ago. And so I'm dreaming of Peter Pan...

The telling of the story of Peter Pan, by tradition, starts in the bedroom of the 3 Darling children. In the performance a few weeks ago there were 4 night-lights set around the edges of the stage.

The night-lights were simple houses -- they looked like they were made of unadorned cardboard. I asked Little Mr. B. if he would like me to make one for him. Of course he said, "Yes..."

I rummaged around on-line for a pattern and found this one (which I adapted to fit some scraps of recycled cardboard.)

The vellum paper in the windows is optional, but I think it looks beautiful (it glows softly when lit.) Also, a base (with trap-door for the battery-operated candle) is optional. The base, however, adds stability to the little structure.

Good night... Sleep tight...

Sweet dreams to you...

Sparrows and Stories

Do you know," Peter asked "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories... (J.M. Barrie)

Today I took my Little Mr. to the library to hear a storyteller (who also happens to be a puppeteer-colleague of mine...) For this presentation he told stories written by Hans Christian Andersen while dressed as the author (and he performed with a charming Danish accent to boot!) Outside the library window I saw 2 or 3 little heads bobbing up and down -- sparrows on the window sill listening in on the stories. James M. Barrie was right -- little birds do love listening to stories!

Neverlands

Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, while Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by it's parents... J.M. Barrie -- Peter Pan
Oh! Ever since seeing the show Peter Pan on Saturday, I have had "Peter-Pan-on-the-Brain." I've been thumbing through my old copy of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens (the prequel to Peter Pan), gazinging at Arthur Rackham's illustrations and searching favorite quotes like this one:

...Though he was born so long ago he has never had a birthday, nor is there the slightest chance of his ever having one. The reason is that he escaped from being a human when he was seven days old; he escaped by the window and flew back to the Kensington Gardens. If you think he was the only baby who ever wanted to escape, it shows how completely you have forgotten your own young days. ...All children could have such recollections if they would press their hands hard to their temples, for, having been birds before they were human, they are naturally a little wild during the first few weeks, and very itchy at the shoulders, where their wings used to be.
This ability of babies to fly away leads to a touching (and disturbing) part of the story of Peter Pan -- the part where Peter recounts trying to return to his mother after being away for many years only to find the window closed. I think about this part of the story often, especially after discussing it with Little Mr.  a few months ago...

I cannot help but look at my little boy and see a bit of the wild Peter Pan in him... The confident creature who, one minute crows, "How clever I am! Oh, the cleverness of me!" and flies away -- the next minute racing back in need of care & mothering. There is a bitter-sweetness, wanting him to stay young and sweet forever... And knowing, in reality, that it would be sad and strange if he remained this way... if he did not follow a normal course of maturation and ultimately grow up.

Do you have a favorite Peter Pan quote? Maybe mine is

On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.

What We Did Today

Today we went here...

Little Mr.'s favorite part was the pirates playing musical instruments. Mr. Bloom liked the mermaids. I thought flying was the best part.

Then we went here...



Had a look at the Bay...

Had a cupcake here and cup of coffee here...

And had some noodles (& dumplings...)

Here.

But I thought the best part was flying...

Leaving the Window Open

A few months ago I was walking my Little Mr. to school and he asked in a serious little voice, "Would you leave the window open for me?" Without any context, this was a strange question. To get clarification I reflected the question back, "Leave the window open for you?" and then I understood. "You're thinking of the story of Peter Pan where Peter flies out the window as a baby (because all babies can fly) and then returns home after a few years to find his mother has given up hope for him and closed the window?" (note: this is not in the Disney version but it's in the original J.M. Barrie book.) "Yes, that's right," confirmed Little Mr., "So, would you leave the window open for me?" I told him that, if he flew out the window, I would (just like Mrs. Darling) sit by the open window all day and sleep by the open window all night, until he came home.

When my Little Mr. was a baby I would sit staring at his sleeping face and think to myself, "You, my baby, will someday break my heart." I imagined a hundred ways he could break my heart. The list started with him saying he hated me and ended with him moving to China without leaving a forwarding address. I never, in all those moments of watching his sleeping face, imagined the beautiful and sweet ways he would break my heart. How could I have imagined he would break my heart by asking whether I would leave the window open?