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Klickitcast - A Beverly Cleary Podcast

Phil Gonzales and John McCoy

Klickitcast - A Beverly Cleary Podcast

An Arts and Books podcast featuring Phil Gonzales
Good podcast? Give it some love!
Klickitcast - A Beverly Cleary Podcast

Phil Gonzales and John McCoy

Klickitcast - A Beverly Cleary Podcast

Episodes
Klickitcast - A Beverly Cleary Podcast

Phil Gonzales and John McCoy

Klickitcast - A Beverly Cleary Podcast

An Arts and Books podcast featuring Phil Gonzales
Good podcast? Give it some love!
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Episodes of Klickitcast

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Phil and John discuss Cleary’s life and legacy. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
The three of us, Mother, Dad, and I, stood on the sidewalk outside the Greyhound bus station in Portland, Oregon, searching for words we could not speak. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Mother and I stand on the weathered and warped back steps looking up at my father, who sits, tall and handsome in work clothes, astride a chestnut horse. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy with Marina McCoy.
It’s the surprisingly in-depth discussion of 2010’s omnibus film Ramona and Beezus that you didn’t know you needed. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Ramona Quimby was nine years old. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and no cavities. She had a mother, a father, a big sister named Beatrice who was called Beezus by the family, and—this was the exciting part—a baby sister named Roberta after her
This afternoon, as Mom was leaving for work at the hospital, she said for the millionth time, “Leigh, please clean up your room. There is no excuse for such a mess. And don’t forget the junk under your bed.” Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
After her first day in the third grade, Maggie Schultz jumped off the school bus when it stopped at her corner. “Bye, Jo Ann,” she called to the girl who was her best friend, sometimes. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
“Guess what?” Ramona Quimby asked one Friday evening when her Aunt Beatrice dropped by to show off her new ski clothes and stay for supper. Ramona’s mother, father, and big sister Beezus, whose real name was Beatrice, paid no attention and went
Dear Mr. Henshaw, My teacher read your book about the dog to our class. It was funny. We licked it. Your freind, Leigh Botts (boy) Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Night winds, moaning around corners and whistling through cracks, dashed snow against the windows of the Mountain View Inn. Inside, a fire cracked in the stone fireplace. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Ramona Quimby hoped her parents would forget to give her a little talking-to. She did not want anything to spoil this exciting day. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
“When will they be here?” asked Ramona Quimby, who was supposed to be dusting the living room but instead was twirling around trying to make herself dizzy. She was much too excited to dust. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy with Gena Radcliffe.
“Ye-e-ep!” sang Ramona Quimby one warm September afternoon, as she knelt on a chair at the kitchen table to make out her Christmas list. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Ramona Quimby, brave and fearless, was half running, half skipping to keep up with her big sister Beatrice on their way home from the park. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy with Nathan Alderman.
The tabby kitten hooked his white paws over the edge of the box marked, Kittens 25¢ or Best Offer. The girl with the stringy hair and sunburned arms picked him up and set him down in the midst of his wiggling, crawling, mewing brothers and sist
The small brown mouse named Ralph who was hiding under the grandfather clock did not have much longer to wait before he could ride his motorcycle. The clock had struck eight already, and then eight thirty. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
“I am not a pest,” Ramona Quimby told her big sister Beezus. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Mitchell Huff’s day began like any other summer day—with a squabble with his twin sister Amy. At breakfast Amy grabbed a cereal box top and said, “I’m going to send away for the plastic harmonica that looks like an ear of corn.” Phil Gonzales a
Keith, the boy in rumpled shorts and shirt, did not know he was being watched as he entered Room 215 of the Mountain View Inn. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
Henry Huggins’s dog Ribsy was a plain ordinary city dog, the kind of dog that strangers usually called Mutt or Pooch. The always called him this in a friendly way, because he was a friendly dog. Phil Gonzales and John McCoy.
I guess this is just one of those days, thought Barbara MacLane on her way home from school one bright afternoon late in April. She was not alone. She was walking beside a boy, a very tall boy, but their thoughts were like those famous parallel
Henry Huggins had a lot of good ideas that fall when he first had his paper route, but somehow his ideas had a way of not turning out as he had planned.
The things that happened to Emily Bartlett that year! It seemed to Emily that it all began one bright spring day, a day meant for adventure.
“I have the funniest feeling,” remarked Jean Jarrett, who was drying the supper dishes while her older sister, Sue, washed them. “I keep feeling as if something nice is going to happen.”
One Saturday morning early in September Shelley Latham sat at the breakfast table with her mother and father. Her mother was reading the women’s page of the morning paper while her father read the editorial section.
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