Garden Blogs?

This morning, while researching raised beds, I found this place, Compost Bin. The guy is in New Jersey, so I'm sure there will be things that wouldn't ever apply to our little piece of land, but he's enjoyable to read, and let his children plant a stick garden. How can you not love that?

Anybody read gardening blogs? I'd love to find some Southern gardening blogs (since we live in the South, and all). Would love to hear your suggestions!

Zorak and I have moved on to the portion of the Forever Home Remodel which shall hereafter be called The Garden. The technical term for its place in the whole renovation process is Phase I, part 3, subsection A. Or, possibly, we'll call it, "&#!@**$". We'll see how it goes. So far, though, so good.

We've dealt with location, layout, and general gameplan. For the most part. We have vague ideas where to go from here, and I imagine there will be a great deal of milling about, looking lost - both literally and figuratively - as we get our bearings.

Zorak and John took the tall pruning shears and the machete out back to tackle the massive growth back there, rid the trees of dead limbs, and get a jump start on the poison ivy. I went after the once-decorative shrubbery in the front. It's all lookin' mighty spindly right now. John asked why we were doing it that way. I'm sure it seems strange to a child's mind to go in and remove so much foliage. We talked about getting the land healthy first, pretty later. It's just like our bodies, or our homes, or our relationships: they need to be healthy and strong, to have all they need in order to thrive. And then, it's pretty delightful to see they don't need to be "managed" for beauty, really. They're beautiful in their own right. Plants, people, and lives. We may not get much to actually grow in the "garden" out back, but this may be a wonderful year for the children.

Kiss (and nurture) those babies!
~Dy

Something Beautiful

A while back, Jean asked her readers to post a picture of "something beautiful". I think she meant scenery, but, well, the South in the winter isn't the most picturesque place on earth. It can be, if you have Thom's wicked photography skills, but if your picture-taking abilities pretty much peaked with Polaroid instant film, this place is harsh. Of the umpteen bathousand "nature pictures" I've taken this winter, this is the sole survivor:



So, I thought I'd compensate by sharing a few shots taken lately that just make me smile.

It is very difficult to just let BabyGirl *sleep*. She's snuggly enough when she's awake, but when she's asleep and, I admit, I have a fondness for those tiny, curled, soft baby feet. Makes me want to swoop her up and snuggle her in, deep and close. That's a bit startling for her, though, so we tend to just take pictures...



John loves to take pictures. And he's good. He's got a natural eye for things, and I have no idea how he does it, but he can fiddle with the camera until he gets just what he saw in his mind. We just let him run wild with the camera, and it's always a treat (sorry Amy) to see what turns up. This is one of my recent favorites. Doesn't it make our plain ol' ceiling fan look much more romantic than you'd expect?



And this little beauty, is our Lean-O-Meter. Zorak and the boys made it for the tree in our front yard.
The tree has a disturbing lean to it, although it seems solidly rooted and healthy. It will, eventually come down, but in the meantime, the guys use this gauge to check the tree's behavior. If it starts moving noticeably, or hits a certain point on the scale, the tree's demise gets bumped to the top of the priority list. It hasn't moved since they hung it. It's beautiful to me because when I see it through the window, I know that Zorak finds ways to look after us, even when he's not here.

Kiss those beautiful babies!
~Dy

Well, kids...

The nice policeman is flashing his lights and parking right behind Mommy because... Uh, I don't know, but I'll bet we'll find out in a minute!

License and proof of insurance, please.

AH-HA! I cleaned out the car today! *in my best sing-song voice in my head* I know where my paperwork is! I know where my paperwork is!

Whipped out proof of insurance (AND registration, just to show how organized I am), reached over for my bag and... looked in the back and... dropped my head onto my arm. "Boys, please tell Mommy her backpack is back there." The boys look around. Nope. *sigh*

And no longer doing the sing-song thing in my head - Of course it's not. I cleaned out the car today. My backpack is sitting on the porch at the house. I'm pretty sure the dog is tearing it apart as we speak. ("You see, officer, my dog ate my license." *snort* The stories they could probably tell!)

Evidently, I pulled a California-stop at the 4-way stop on the corner.

So, he took down all my information and went back to see if I was on the up and up. It took him a long time. I was so anxious (just because I hate being pulled over) that I took to sorting the trash in the little dangly bag on the cup holder. James and John did me the honor of reporting back every. movement. the man made.
"Mom! Mom! He looks mad!"
"Mom, he's talking on the radio!"
"Mom, he has a funny look on his face!"
"Mom, he's looking up at us!"
(Well, wave and smile and sit. back. down!)

I figured this was going to cost us heavily, so focused instead on talking with the boys. What better opportunity to let them know that I made a mistake, and although it wasn't intentional, it's still my responsibility. See, consequences for our behavior: it happens to all of us. We all make mistakes, but how do we handle it when we do? Want some milk to go with that Humble Pie?

The boys waved furiously as the officer made his way back up to the car. I got a verbal warning for being an idiot who leaves her bag on the porch. Got a ticket for not stopping at a stop sign. Alabama's pretty proud of their stop signs! Ugh. I feel like a real boob.

But, on the upside, the officer was very nice and didn't have a Robocop complex, which I appreciated tremendously. We picked out movies from the store and made it home without further incident. AND, there are two tidy, clean vehicles in the front yard. We did more, but the pork chops are about done, so I'll blog later, when the kidlets are asleep.

Dy

Take *that*, you evil pipe-freezing demons!

Zorak's not due home until tomorrow. And yet, the house is mid-way clean right now. Ah-ha - you shall not foil me again!

Of course, it helps that it's 70-something degrees and beautiful...

Probably not a high risk of freezing tonight.

But still, it's nice to know an old dog can learn new tricks, no?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Computers, Wildlife, and Stuff

Right now, the computer works okay, as long as you don't get uppity and think you can just "point and click". Oh, no. This is a bit more like a hijacking, or blackmail. You must move slowly, with your hands up, make eye contact, get to your position and await further instructions. If you don't wait for the hand, well, all heck's gonna break loose and you'll only have to wait longer because of it. And if "they" (the ones that live inside the computer) don't want you to do something, you'd better not try. They can make bad things happen.

Gah.

The computer guy with the whimsical messaging system will be out Saturday. This is great, in that I don't have to unplug or transport anything. And it will force me to declutter the school room.

We did get out yesterday, but who knew the wildlife refuge closes at five? The man at the information desk obviously does not get paid overtime and does not do his job for the love of it. (It wasn't five yet, but he wasn't taking any chances.)

The Refuge Ranger (yeah, I had a hard time not giggling at that title, too), however, is delightful and enthusiastic, and she knows that it takes less time to whip out some interesting tips and leads than it does to stare blankly at people and hope they will think you're a wood carving. We left with some great ideas, and are heading back out for an excursion today. Yay!

What do you like to do to get out of the house?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Not The Best Marketing Plans...

The computer needs some lovin', and I've been putting it off for a while. But now, we're down to the gnat's end. So, I looked up a few computer repair places this morning. It wasn't productive, but it was interesting...

Place #1:
I dialed 123-4567.
The answering machine message says, "You have reached 890-1234. Please leave your message at the tone." *

I hung up, checked the number, and redialed very. carefully. (Stuck my tongue out and everything, just to make sure.)

Got the same message. I left my message, along with a disclaimer that I'd dialed a different number completely and so if this isn't the right place, please accept my apologies.

Hmmm... so I tried another place.

Hey, they have a website. www.valleycomputers.com Cool.

But, um, if you go there, you'll see this message:

If you are the owner of this web site you have not uploaded (or incorrectly uploaded) your web site.

I think I'll keep looking...

Dy

*Editoral note: I called the number again so I could get the exact number on the message, and I got busted. Steve actually answered this time! He forwards all his calls to one cell phone, so that does explain the mis-matched number.

Mornin'

Well, I didn't mean to go to bed at ten last night, but somebody needed some snuggles. Actually, several somebodies needed some snuggles. I awoke again this morning under the pile 'o bodies. (Honey, if you're reading this, we're moving to the guest room. Meet me there Friday at ten, but don't mention this to the kids, okay?)

Today is Ash Wednesday. We don't attend a church that observes Ash Wednesday, and I miss that. The preparation, the reflection... all a part of preparing for Lent. I'm not sure why a church would observe Lent and not observe Ash Wednesday. Probably ought to talk to Pastor about that. (Cuz' if you don't ask, you won't know!)

If everything stays put today, we'll get outside for sure. We simply must. But I'm not telling you what we're doing, because everytime I write out a plan, we don't do it. Not that I blame you. No. It's me. Or maybe it's the small ones. Whatever it is, today is a "surprise day". Heh. How's that?

We're reading Captains Courageous now. It's written by Rudyard Kipling, and the story is delightful. Absolutely fantastic. As a read-aloud, though, it requires a certain verbal flexibility which, it seems, I simply don't have. The gymnastics required to keep one eye reading ahead in order to pace the phrases and speech of the day will wear. you. out. Goodness. This goes well beyond the banks of the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees. That, I can finagle. It's the myriad contractions (Vowel! I need a vowel, here, folks!) and the colloquialisms of the Boston fishermen from the 1800's (much longer, and more complex than our speech and pace of today). But even with that challenge, which is just a challenge and not really a hinderance, it's a delightful read. Perhaps one to read twice: once, to yourself, and then again, aloud. But don't miss it.

And now, two of four are up. Time to begin the day!

kiss those babies!
~Dy

Frau Hillary's Pancake

We tried it. Oh, my, we may live off this stuff. Give it a shot.

This is the basic wheat-free version. I'll note alternative substitutions for other ingredients below the recipe.

In an oven-proof skillet (as always, I recommend cast iron), melt 1/2 stick of butter. (This is easiest to do by sticking it in the oven while the oven preheats.)

In a bowl, sift together 1/2 c. of flour blend, 1/2 tsp. xanthan gum, 1 tsp. baking powder, 2 Tbsp. sugar.

Add to the bowl, 2 eggs, 1/2 c. milk, 1 tsp. vanilla.

Mix well.

Pour the batter over the butter and bake at 400' for 20-25 min.

Enjoy!


********Substitutions And Notes*********

The original recipe does not call for sugar or vanilla. I added those because I really wanted to. (It was for dessert, okay?) :-D

Butter in this could be replaced with any oil (coconut, maybe? Canola, plain vegetable, whatever you want - you just need the fats to make this thing really sing. Well, and to get it out of the skillet when it's done, I would imagine.)

Xanthan gum and guar gum are interchangeable. Use whatever you have, but if you're using non-wheat flours, don't leave it out!

Baking powder substitute: 2 parts baking soda and 1 part cream of tartar.

Milk - I used fat free powdered milk, and so I would imagine you could use any other milk - rice, soy, or almond - without problems.

I'm going to go eat what's left. We'll just have to make more in the morning. Thanks, Hillary!

Shoes, steps, and stomach aches.

Zorak came home, we all rejoiced, hit the buffet yesterday, and then put him back on a plane. We have it easy, compared to our military families, I know. It's still not fun.

John is decked out in gear for baseball. This child is stoked. There's no other term for it. He is wildly, thoroughly stoked. His coach called this morning to introduce himself and give me a heads up that the meet 'n greet will be sometime in the next week. I volunteered to handle any allergy-related snacks for the team. His wife said there are three children in the school with celiac, so she would be sure to bring it up at the meeting and let folks know to get with me on their needs, if they have any. I guess they've decided to go with ball pants for the kids this year because their little legs get too torn up wearing shorts, so that was the Big News. (It was a little lost on me, I admit, because I had no idea they would wear anything other than ball pants.)

Smidge has taken off on the independence track lately. It's not the two-year-old "I can do it myself" anymore. He just goes... and does it. And then beams from ear-to-ear when he's done. Everything is a reason for celebration for him. Everything is a joy. He knows he's earned the praise he receives, because he can feel the accomplishment in his bones. We should all work so hard to do so well, I think.

Miss Emily has taken a few steps by herself. She's still not thrilled with the huge spaces of nothingness between furniture, but she sure was proud of herself with those steps. And they were to Daddy, which made him smile. Watching them made me smile. It's good stuff, isn't it?

James came ambling out last night around ten-thirty, complaining of a stomach upset. He had some warm milk and then headed back to bed. About half an hour later, I heard what sounded like a body falling from the top bunk, and dashed down the hall to see what happened. He was leaning in the hall, looking shaken. "I puked, Mom, *bwomp*" - the sound turned out to be vomit hitting the wall at 90MPH. That had to have hurt. He was sick all night, eventually running out of energy to do anything more than lie there and moan. Sometime after four this morning, he drifted into a peaceful sleep. (Well, he probably just passed out, but he looks so peaceful now that he's not convulsing in dry heaves, so we're going with that.) I imagine he won't be right for a day or two. Best we can figure is that the culprit must be the salad from the buffet. That's the only thing he ate that the rest of us didn't.

The weather's beautiful today. Grey, breezy, threatening rain, but it's already in the mid-50's. I'd hate to waste a day like this inside, so after a leisurely morning, perhaps we'll take an outing - the baseball player, the enthusiastic small one, the crawling rock-eater, and the invalid from the infirmary. Won't we be a colorful troupe? The fresh air will do us all some good.

In the meantime, I think I'm going to work on the school room a bit. Maybe write a note to the principal to let him know James won't be doing lessons today. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Sweet Comfort

We all slept late, woke leisurely and snuggled. Then we scuttled into town for hardware (for the doors) and a memory card (for the gamecube). We were so tempted to stop at the buffet before we came home, but when we eat there, we accomplish nothing for the rest of the day. We come home, sprawl out like crime scene mock-ups, and digest. Instead, I threw granola bars at the kids and we kept truckin'. Came home to fix supper. And, oh, what a supper it was!

Steaks, sausages, smoked pork loins, pintos, steamed okra, corn on the cob, salad. It was like eating a Texas Pit BBQ in 18th Century size. Holy cow. But it's okay if we sprawl out like crime scene mock-ups now, because we got our work done before we ate. I love food.

Zorak and the boys are playing video games. I got the small ones bathed and jammied. (What is it about little ones that's just so heart melting when they're freshly bathed and all pink and fluffy?) And in a bit, I think we'll curl up and enjoy some stories. It feels like it's nearly ten o'clock, but according to the computer (which is, suspiciously, fast), it's only 7:10.

It's been a good day, and I'm thankful for it. Gonna go kiss my hubby.
Dy

*sigh*

We took this week to get things together. It was a great week. In the back of my mind, the romantic part that's hidden way, way down there in the shadows, I'd hoped to be spiffed up a bit, with the house all prettied up for Zorak when he got home.

We awoke this morning to frozen water pipes. It wasn't in the house (for which I'm thankful), but it's the main service line just on our side of the meter. We had no water until after one-thirty today.

That meant no shower.

No cleaning.

No spiffing.

And I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed. Way down in the romantic recesses of my heart.

But still, he's coming home! He's just ten miles down the road, picking up *steaks* from Foodland! (Maybe there's something going on his his wee romantic recesses, as well? Maybe whatever's going on will buy me time for a shower? Hope abounds!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

All Better

Gosh, remember when a can of 7-Up with a straw, a warm blanket, and a kiss from Mom would make everything "all better"? Well, who'd have guessed that *mumble-mumble* years later, a cup of coffee, a bag of chocolates, and a Jane Austen flick would have the same effect?

The boys flew through their lessons today. I don't know if I'm not pushing them enough, or if they're just really enjoying it. (Kind of afraid to test the theory, really.) We hit the market for a thrilling two and a half hours of grocery shopping. The manager approached to ask if we'd like help getting our groceries out to the car. Um, it's 26' out, I have two carts, and... YEAH, BABY!! Bring it on! The poor kid who came to help us seemed a bit at a loss for words. He kept looking from one cart to the next, not actually making eye contact with any of us. Awkward, but I'm still grateful for the escort.

We came home and I turned the boys loose outside. Emily slept. Smidge slept. The big boys romped in the frigid sunshine with the dog (who was deleriously glad to have somebody to play with outside) while I unloaded the groceries, put them away, and made supper.

Since we finished The Indian in the Cupboard, we stopped at the video store and rented the movie version. James is so deeply, genetically linked to me. He could hardly watch the movie for all the running commentary about how it differed from the book. John, of course, thought the movie was much better than the book. He doesn't "see" the story as it's read to him, so he is more readily gratified with the visuals of a movie, whereas James gets his enjoyment out of the development of the story (the book has to make the characters "real" for him). It's fun to see such different learning styles in action, and to know that we can accomodate both. In all, it was a fun evening.

Storytime took us well past ten o'clock tonight. Oy. But each child got some personalized, one-on-one time alone, which I think they all needed. It was good, and that's a worthwhile reason to stay up late, anyway.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Almost Cried Uncle

Yesterday. Was. Hard.

If I was going to cry, "Uncle!" Yesterday would have been the day. But I didn't. (Neither did they.) And we made it. Everybody went to bed knowing they are loved. Always. The sun came up today, and what do you know, it's a better day already. I guess that's what days like that are good for. If you're always on your best behavior and everyone adores you, then you can start to wonder if they really love you, warts and all. But, when you've really pushed the limits, and you've really tested the boundaries, and somebody can be purple-faced with frustration and tongue-biting and still look you in the eye and say, "I love you with all my heart. What you're doing is not okay, and you need to stop, but I still love you right now." Wow.

It's hard to do that sometimes. I never saw that, growing up. I didn't know if I'd be able to do it as a parent. But yeah, it's good. It's worth doing. It's worth doing, even when, or especially when, it's the hardest thing in the world to do.

I'm sorry we didn't get to make a video for Dad. I'm sorry we didn't get to call Gram. I'm sorry we weren't up for taking on the icy bridge into town. But amidst all the things I'm sorry for, I don't have to add any of the guilty-parenting thing. I'm glad I didn't lose my temper. I'm glad that when we sat down to write out the rules of the house, the boys were the first ones to explain why each rule is so important. I'm glad that when I reminded them that we're ALL subject to the rules of the house, including me, they didn't roll their eyes. *grin*

So, yeah, while the day had me in a pretty rugged half-nelson, it was okay. I didn't get pinned, and for that I'm thankful.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Wild Winter Day

Winter in the South is so weird. Jeans and a t-shirt? Christmas weather. (Although I wore a sweater on principle.) Roasting marshmallows on the deck in January. (Sans jackets, even!) Valentine's Day in fleece, and it looks like snow is on the way. (We're praying for the snow, at least. If it's gotta be this cold...)

I awoke this morning to the sound of rain falling on the hillbilly porch roof outside our room. I breathed in the feeling of a rainy winter morning -- the muted light through the windows, the magic of the rain's rhythm, the absolute stillness of the morning. There's something magical about it. I stretched, and knocked a child off the bed. Made a mental note that when we redo the roofing on this place, we've got to have metal roofing somewhere in the equation. And a bigger bed.

I extricated myself from the mass of bodies somebody had dumped on my bed in the middle of the night (figuring the live ones would emerge eventually and if there were any left after that, we'd sort it out then), and wandered to the kitchen. What was I forgetting? Coffee? Check. Slippers? Check. Trash? ACK. It's TUESDAY!

Quickly, I threw on my boots and hoodie and headed out to haul the trash can to the road. Because one of the last things I said to Zorak as he was reminding me of all the things to be done this week was, "YES HONEY, I know Tuesday is trash day," and if you're going to mouth off like a petulant teenager, then you'd better be prepared to make good on your supposed knowledge, or eat a lot of crow when the dust settles. (Hi, honey! I got the trash out! I love you!)

The magical quality of rain... does not extend to the driveway, at six in the morning. And, to further highlight the utterly non-magical nature of the process, Balto skittered along directly in front, erm, beside me for the walk. I made it back, wet, muddy, and pretty darned sure it wasn't worth it. But thankfully, I'd made the coffee before I left. We have a BUNN. Life is good.

So then I had an hour and a half of quiet. To read, study, stare into space and make spit bubbles.

The boys awoke one at a time. I love it when that happens. Everybody gets individual morning snuggles. The pace is slow and gentle. James asked, "Did you see Smidge and me snuggled in this morning?" I kissed his forehead and smiled in return. No sense in telling him I'm pretty sure it was him I knocked off the bed when I got up. Why ruin his idyllic reverie?

Due to my semi-irrational fear of having one or more children sucked into the river, we opted not to go to the Wildlife Refuge, but rather to stay home and watch it rain from the safety of the house. We read, and read, and read. The Indian in the Cupboard, The Yellow Fairy Book, The Chamber of Secrets. James read his chapter from The Aneid for Boys and Girls to John. John read The Ugly Duckling to Smidge. Emily ate three crayons. The boys finished their lessons before eleven o'clock, and then we played and read some more. Then I chased them all away to play while I tidied and cleaned a bit.

Sometime this evening, I clued in that tomorrow, being Wednesday, and also being Valentine's Day, they might need Valentines to take to their classes tomorrow. So I asked, and my bright, detail-oriented offspring both grinned and shrugged. "Probably, it is Valentine's Day, you know." Yeah. Well, glad to see logic is taking its place in your realm... I can't wait for the rhetoric to kick it! We'll have to put something together tomorrow. I don't have it in me tonight.

The rain is falling. The magic is back. So are the bodies in my bed, I suspect. I think I'll go see if I can find a spot near a pillow.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Home Landscape

(Eventually, I'll probably just shorten it to "hl"... the evolution of laziness, folks.)

We spent three hours at the County Extension Office today. The boys now know everybody from the 4-H director to the soils testing people. They were delightfully behaved the entire time we were there, and were thrilled to leave laden with all kinds of goodies from everyone in the building.

We got more information than my mortal mind will be able to process in a decade. And we really only scratched the surface. But it was good, and we know who to contact when we get ready to have the spring water tested, when we're ready to put in a pond, and when we're ready to start our own 4-H club. Wee!

We got home, had a delicious early supper, then played games until bedtime.

Smidge learned (the hard way) why we have table manners rule #8: Do Not Blow Into Your Straw. We'd made milkshakes. We aren't sure what happened, as nobody was looking at him prior to the point of impact, but evidently his straw got plugged. So he blew. And he blew. And then IT blew. We heard him make a panicky, whining noise and looked up to see... that he'd been hit with a cream pie? What is that? His entire face, from the upper lip to the hairline, was covered in whipped cream. Couldn't tell where his eyes or nose might be. The front of his shirt? All chocolate milkshake and sprinkles. The large plastic Steak 'N Shake cup? Almost completely empty. Got him cleaned off and into the tub, made sure all was okay, and then allowed myself to giggle. I've never seen something explode like that before. (The house rule is just b/c it's annoying and makes a splattery mess on the table. Don't tell them, but I had NO idea milkshakes held that kind of explosive power!) Once he realized he hadn't blinded himself for life, all that was hurt were his feelings over losing most of his milkshake. The boys, however, think that was the coolest trick they've ever seen!

Just as I'd tucked the last child in, and turned off the last light, Bobby, er, Melissa called. Since she's been calling, returning calls, and emailing more often than just twice a year, we were able to get all caught up before my phone died! I love visiting with her, and she always manages to make me laugh, and to feel like we can do this. We really can. THANK YOU!

We're supposed to go talk to the Wheeler Wildlife folks tomorrow to round up information on doing nature studies in the area (again, steeeeeeeeep learning curve for me, so we've got to start early). The morning routine works nicely, and leaves afternoons open for things like this, so that's nice. But I think we'll wait and see how everyone is feeling. We might just bury ourselves in pruning information and call it a day! (LB, I know I didn't get a chance to call, please let F. know that we got sidetracked with the great exploding milkshake.)

Phew. I'm pooped.

G'night!
Kiss those babies,
Dy

Renovation Tidbits: Landscape

So I told Zorak the other day that Spring's A-Comin'. We need to prune the fruit trees, and find out what type of fertilizer the nut trees will need this year. We need to clear some land for the garden and plan that. We need to arrange the best watershed scenario so as to make the best use of water and not cause any undue damage. I had a whole list of things for him to add to his Honey-Do list.

He said, "OK, that sounds good. You get spooled up on all that and let me know what we need to do."

*blink* *blink*

Wha-what?!? What?! NO! How'd he do that? That was most certainly NOT my plan! Nowhere near my plan. My plan involved me, staying inside (in the a/c) this summer, watching my beloved and our darling offspring do the natural-man thing. My plan was to greet them at the door with iced tea, fresh biscuits and gazpacho! My plan kept me far, far from the poison ivy, and the ticks, and the sweat, and the ticks.

And the ticks.

Gah. He's crafty, that one. It's a good thing he's cute, that's all I have to say.

So we're off to the County Extension Office today to find out what to do with a dying persimmon tree, how to cultivate muscodynes (and spell, evidently) muscadines, why on earth someone would eat poke leaves, and how to tell the difference between the berries of the latter two.

Give me a bed of cactus, or anything that grows in the Rocky Mountains, and I'm good to go. But all the Southern bit of Nature's Bounty leaves me realizing I would die in less than two weeks in the wilderness out here. Not from exposure. Not from dehydration. But from all those juicy, sweet, deadly berries!

Gah.

Kiss those babies, and tell them not to eat these:


~Dy

Who I Am

MFS saw a picture of herself recently that she felt really showed her as she *feels*. She then asked on a board we frequent if we'd be willing to share something similar of ourselves. It's been a fun thread, and the window-peeking nosey Nellie in me has enjoyed putting faces with names. But, finding a picture of myself to share was a bit... difficult.

I wanted to email Crissy covertly and ask her to airbrush out a couple of things for me. Maybe airbrush in a few things, too, if possible. You know, just amongst us girls.

I wanted to spend the next two days primping and polishing and hot rolling and sloughing and... where are those Crest whitestrips? Or maybe Crissy could do that, too? Jess? No, Jess knows me too well. I still haven't lived down the last little bit o' fixin' I asked her to do. Drat.

But, that wasn't what Melissa had asked. She asked what we look like. Now. Today (or recently). Particularly, in this season of our lives. Who we are, and where we are. All settled in, and comfy with ourselves.

Comfy. Yeah.

Well, ok.

No excuses. No apologies. No primping, posing, or airbrushing.

These two pictures sum it up pretty well.

This is how I look a lot of the time. Kissing my babies.


And this is it. This is me. Sling. Sweater. Jeans. Runaway hair. Nose. Smile. There's usually a backpack slung over my shoulder, stuffed with all the things of life, but Zorak had it at the time, to get the camera out.


What do *you* look like?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

He's gone...

Sorry for the silence here the last few days. Zorak is off doing engineering things for a bit, and so, we stocked up. We soaked him in. We basically pestered the snot out of the man for the last few days. He's probably looking forward to some peace and quiet on the plane ride.

But now, we're back! Regularly scheduled communication (phone calls, emails, and blogging) will now commence.

Kiss those babies, and the daddies, too!
~Dy

Categories and Labels?

What categories have you found to be the most useful, if you use them? What a silly thing to give so much attention to, but, well, we all do silly things from time to time. I could be mopping the floor, but truthfully, I'd prefer to do it at night so that it will stay pretty for a few hours before the children emerge.

I like categories that are actually helpful for people who are looking for something specific. For instance, wheat-free, or food. Books are a helpful category. What else have you found helpful? Or do you ignore them? Or do you also obsess over them and find yourself either giving every single entry a category of its very own, or trying to much things into pathetically vague categories, like lumping your homeschooling, political activism, latest reading lists, cute kid stories, and latest kitchen fiasco all into "education"? C'mon, fill me in, here.

Kiss those babies (and which category do you put them in?)
~Dy

Schooling Update

Lessons are coming along surprisingly well for *whisper* this time of year.

James is reading The Aeneid for Boys and Girls, compliments of KathyJo for posting her reading list, and The Baldwin Project for offering it online. This is the first time he has enjoyed reading the Ancient stories on his own. Until now, he'd sit patiently through a history reading, enjoy doing a project, even get into telling Dad about all he'd learned. But to sit down and read the stories... not so much. That's why I never bought D'Aulaire's books. We checked them out, and they went unread if I didn't read them aloud. But this, he gets up each morning and asks right off if I've printed his reading for the day. (woohoo) This may be a result of some inner process to which I am not privy. It may be a response to Church's writing. Don't know. Don't care. Gonna run with it.

John is reading Fun With Dick and Jane for his reading assignments. Don't laugh. I know. Zorak is just as surprised as I am that John, Mr. Merlin and The Dragons, Mr. Rough-n-Tumble, is enchanted by Dick, Jane, and Baby Sally. People can scoff, but I figure he picked it out, he loves it, he is making advances. He's reading. He's reading aloud to me, to Smidge, to anyone who will listen.

Look, Mom! Look!
John is reading!
John is reading comfortably!
Happy, happy Mother.

We've made it to the Punic wars in History. I don't know if it's a sibling thing, but the boys really can play off one another so easily. It makes me smile.

Me: And so began the First Punic War. Do you boys know what 'Punic' means?
James: They were small wars? *grin*
Me: Um, no...
John: It was a small country?
Me: (Really trying not to giggle, but they're eyeing me. They know they're being silly, and I'm on the verge of laughing.) Not quite... Punic refers to Phoenician, so -
James: *pfft* Well, that's silly. Phoenicia wasn't puny at all.
John: Yeah, but Sicily was kinda small...

Moooooving on, we got through math and Latin with a speed which floored me. A little birdwatching, a little reading, take some time out for an I SPY book... We piled onto the couch with blankets and our recent read aloud, until I started interjecting random things ("the Indian was now right at dwarvish eyeball height...") and then it was over. Time to get up and get the blood flowing.

When we finish with our lessons and lunch, I usually put EmBaby down for a nap while the boys have free reading time. Then I turn them loose to play. It's a little cold and windy today for making them go outside, so they're enjoying some gametime, while I get a cup of coffee and plan the rest of the week. And so, I'm off! (I'm going to find a book to use for the free trial of ClickBook - will let y'all know how it turns out.)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Print Books?

I FOUND IT!! I have discovered the motherlode for printing books at home!

For anyone who uses The Baldwin Project, Gutenberg Project, Robinson Curriculum, or other books-to-print, well, you will understand my joy.

We print out the pages in portrait orientation, double-sided, and stick them into a binder. It works. Technically. Hard for me to keep track of (we have too many binders laying about), and it's difficult to curl up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book when the book is the size of a fully grown binder. So, while we thoroughly enjoy the stories, we don't get to enjoy the books as well as if they were smaller, or actually bound. Binders don't travel well in the car. They don't fit in the little daypacks. pages tear out frightfully easily. Not a big issue when compared to, say, whether to use Golden Rice to ship to developing nations, I know. But something to deal with nonetheless.

So, I've been trying to find something that will allow me to print these books in a portrait layout, two-up on a page, and then fold or bind the books so that we'll have smaller finished product with which to work (8 1/2 by 5 1/2).

I suppose, if you're married to a mathematician, or have the whatsit to run a desktop publishing software, you might have the resources at your disposal to figure out the page layout for 5 1/2 by 8 1/2 book printing... I, uh, don't. I can finagle my way through maybe an eight-page print up, but even that's pushing it. Zorak could figure it out, but I can think of eight thousand and three things, straight off the top of my head, that he'd rather do than help me figure out what page order to put Five Little Peppers for printing.

This brings me to the psychotically exciting stuff I found last night!

Gigabooks sells a hand binding press. You can make your own books, complete with covers. The press is pricey for your average homeschool endeavor, but I'm pretty sure Zorak could only think of fifty or sixty things he'd rather do than try to make me something that would do the job. That still leaves enough room for negotiation into buying one!

They carry covers, lamination sheets (actual sheets for this purpose, not the contact paper I normally use), and two different size presses. Oodles of possibilities began dancing in my mind, blurring my budgetary process.

While perusing that site, I found (angels sing in the background) ClickBook. This nifty bit o' software will rotate, shrink-to-fit, sort and send your newly organized project to your regular, everyday printer for you! I think I swooned. I may have even done the excited-toddler-full-body-vibration. They have over 170 layouts you can use, but I mention this solely for the booklet printing. Oh, and the Day Planner layout. (Who hasn't had to customize their Day Planner into a completely unrecognizable form in order to get it to work well? Now, it's fully customizable!) WOOHOO!

Now to find my RC disks...

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

But we felt so busy!

*whine*

OK. Got that out of my system. We worked more on the nursery today. I painted the ceiling. Then, because the kids hadn't figured out yet that I was doing something productive, I was able to go ahead and work on the edge of the ceiling in the living/kitchen/dining space. Yes, I know. We painted that months ago. Actually, I got one coat on, and then Zorak realized he ceiling needs some work. So he asked me to hold off on the second coat until he could get to that... well, it's not caving in on us, so it hasn't migrated to the top of the Priority List yet. And... months later, there you have it. A manic woman with a plastic tub of paint in one hand, a paint brush clutched between her teeth, hauling a step stool around the room with a toddler in hot pursuit. The ugly side of home repair. I got all but the spot above the TV. Didn't have the courage to attempt the lateral air maneuvers required for that one.

Then... I just wandered around for a bit. Felt like I should be doing something, but wasn't sure what. (This happens far more often than I'd like to admit.) Zorak build the jamb for the closet door, got it all squared and shimmed and solid (the studs have an amazing twist to them!) He got the door hung. He unplugged the buzzer on the washing machine. (Remember, when the Sears guy came out, he only unplugged the dryer buzzer, but I didn't know that til I put EmBaby down for a nap and threw in a load of wash. Short nap, that day.)

We took a break to watch Over the Hedge with the kidlets, who needed some 'nuggling. Enjoyed a delicious supper. Fretted over the temperatures and the heater. Zorak fiddled with his latest creation, a gift for Ward. I stained a coat rack for the nursery. We got all the children cleaned and loved on and put to bed. I straightened the kitchen, then cleaned the stove (unless you have the housekeeping skills of a German housemaid, do NOT buy an unsealed burner stove - just a tip from Auntie Dy)... and, and... gosh, I feel like we simply did not stop today, other than the movie break with the kids. Even that involved a lot of up-down-wrestle-move-up-down-chase-the-dog-off-the-futon (when did he get in??) Not much quiet time today. At all.

And we didn't call Gram. :-( We need to call her in the morning.

But now, I've got to go over lesson plans for the week. And sweep the floor. And try to figure out where the day went... hmpf.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Remodel, Day 506

Sheesh, talk about a drawn out process! (I still wonder what on earth made me start out doing days, oh, so long ago, but it's fun, in a self-deprecating way, to figure up the days every once in a while.)

Pulled the ceiling fan in the nursery today. Ew. Zorak took the boys to get supplies and I put EmBaby down, then went to work. Got the windows scraped of paint smears, cleaned out one of the closets and prepped it for putting in a closet door. I think just getting doors in there will make such a difference. Right now, it looks like two gaping holes where an explosion in a children's clothing factory took place.

EmBaby was still asleep, so I put chicken leftovers into a pot for soup and started in with the paint. Sixty hours later... (ok, ok, one hour, but it felt like sixty), I found all the stuff and got started. Cleaned the ceiling, then cut in the ceiling paint around the walls and over where the ceiling fan will go. By then, Baby Girl was up and ready to try that whole toddler headfirst into a 5-gal bucket thing. Somehow, I didn't think we were quite ready for that, so I packed up the paint supplies and poured a bit of paint into a Glad Ware tub to work with. She was compliant enough that I could put the second coat on the school room windows, but decided I was taking advantage of her patience when I moved on to the apron.

Ah, well.

Zorak called from one of his stops to tell me he didn't want to do this anymore. (His exact words were, "If I could have left an hour ago, I would have. They're coming unwound. ALL of them!") I suggested food. He called back an hour later, from Chic-Fil-A, to let me know they're all doing much better ("The boys and the Daddy"), and, if I wasn't stalled and waiting for them to return, he had a few more things to do before coming home.

So now, it's almost seven, and I'm going to go watch The Lawrence Welk Show with Baby Girl. Down below freezing again tonight, and I am ever so thankful for our heater. And our floors. It's all been worth it so far.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

I needed that.

You know how sometimes you don't mind a gritty ending to a book or a novel? Some stories simply must end that way. (OK, I still rail against the way King's Tower series ended, but like he said, he warned us not to read that last bit. Serves me right, but I won't ever learn. This much, I know.)

However, sometimes you watch a movie and you just need a Very Good Ending?

We watched one like that tonight. It was awesome. Even if it had ended badly for the characters, it was still a great flick. But I really didn't *want* it to end badly for them. I liked them. I reacted somewhat rabidly to the villian. I cheered for the redemption factor (always cheer for the redemption factor - I couldn't have been the only one to come literally out of my seat when Alfred returned to the family in Legends of the Fall, right?). So yes, I, the semi-invested viewer (one without a backup comedy, to boot!) desperately needed the movie to end just the way it did.

Indeed.

I do so appreciate that every once in a while.

Soup

I'm trying to keep our budget for groceries down to a reasonable level, but even with the discovery of the Far East Asian Market on Memorial Parkway, it's still pretty pricy. The trouble with a wheat-free menu is that many of the traditionally low-cost meals, such as pasta, breads, casseroles, all contain wheat. WF alternatives are available, and we've actually mastered the use of many of them, but they can be budget busters. Which brings us to soups.

Well, we've gone a little nutty on the soups lately. Soup is so filling, so comforting on a chilly fall or winter evening. Yup, we love soup. What we really love is soup that's thick and chunky and filled with huge chunks of meat and thick, solid vegetables. However, the bigger and more plentiful the chunks, the bigger and more painful the overall price of the meal. Huh. We've been playing around with homemade versions of ramen and chicken noodle soup, though, with delightful success. (And approximately 1/60th the sodium content!) Mostly, it's Zorak. I need a base food to start with, and build from there. I'll stare at an empty pot for hours and still draw a blank. Zorak works a little differently. He wanders into the kitchen, grabs the seasoning he wants to use and creates a dish around it. (It's really a rather attractive feature. One of the things I love about him.)

Anyway, I gave into it last night and gave it a shot, as well. It turned out okay. We'll call it... mmm... soup. (Can't think of a catchy name, sorry.) I've heard that some of the rice sticks have wheat flour sprinkled on them. I've contacted two companies, with less-than-wonderful results in trying ascertain whether it's true. From what I can gather, no. Still, be careful if you are very sensitive, or have celiac. We haven't had a reaction from John using them. So, we've been using them, and plan to continue to do so, but if you're highly sensitive, you may want to double check before hand.

Start with rice sticks. There are a bazillion kinds. We like the Zhongshan Laifen rice stick for soups. It's a thick and round noodle that holds up well to simmering. (From what I can gather "Laifen" is either an Asian rice vermicelli, or an undergarment factory. "Zhongshan" is a district, a town, an historical figure, and... I have no idea why it's on the package label. We don't claim to be experts, here, we just work with what we've got.) No clue what "Bun Gao Kho" (with an accent mark over the U, and a caret over the last O) means... Anyone? Anyone? However, the pho or pad thai noodles will also work well. The round ones are simply a little meatier, I think.

Ok, so moving on, prepare the rice sticks - boil water, add noodles, bring back to a boil. Cover, remove from heat, and let sit ten minutes. (Package says 15, but if you only do ten, they'll hold up better in the end.)

Meanwhile, clear out your veggie stash: carrots, celery, whatever. Even leafy things would work - cabbage would be delicious. Slice everything very thinly. This will serve several purposes: reduce cooking time (thus, fuel use and also, nutrient retention), and make it pretty (because we shouldn't ditch aesthetics if we don't have to). Set it all aside in whatever you use to set things aside (I just push 'em over to the edge of the cutting board.)

One onion - dice it up nice and small, set aside. (Again with the shoving.)

Meat. I used one pork rib last night. Could've used two, but we weren't awfully hungry. Plus, it's mostly for flavor, I think. Of course, I'm still mentally comparing it to a nice, thick beef stew, which, this isn't. So. Yeah. Slice the meat very thinly - think thin, like, um, philly cheesesteak sandwiches. Then cut the thin slices crosswise, into small, thin... mmm, "bits". Bits of meat is what you should have. Season and brown in a hot cast iron skillet. Add the onions and brown to caramelize a bit.

OK, your rice should be done now. Rinse the everlovin' snot out of it. This is the starchiest stuff you've ever seen. You could, theoretically, reserve the water to make wallpaper glue, but I don't. Or, if you're hideously frugal, you could save it for making something that would normally require potato water. I guess. Anyway, rinse, rinse, rinse. Throw it back into a pot with hot water, a little bullion (or seasoning of your choice), add the hot meat and onions, the thin and uniformly cut veggies (I just like saying that - I've never actually pulled off uniform cuts in my life. If yours are not uniform, just throw 'em in anyway and don't sweat it. If there are any gargantuan chunks that look obviously wrong, pull them out and trim them up a bit. You're good to go.)

Cover the whole thing and let it simmer stil it smells good. You could eat it right away, but try to give it at least five minutes while you clean the kitchen. That whole mingled flavors thing, you know. And it's nice to have a clean kitchen while you eat your warm soup.

Kids & Weather

Every time we have a nice day, I usher the children outside. Then we spend the next two hours or more playing King of the Hill in the doorway. You'd think I'd sent them to their death on Mars. But today? Today is one of the coldest days we've had so far. And the kids are playing outside, soaked to the skin, covered in mud, happy... happy... weird kids.

We awoke to "snow", or what passes for it in Alabama, anyway. Quarter inch of fairly small ice balls scattered about the property.

You'd think the boys awoke in the North Pole. Did I mention they're muddy? It's been drizzling a slushy, sleety rainy substance since about seven this morning. I'm cold just watching them out the window. But bless their little hearts, they just don't know any better.

There's a slush man on top of the Suburban.

Balto seems to have decided it's time to panic and eat the children. (I listened in, he was laughing. It just looks a bit heinous, though, doesn't it?)

And, while I was snapping pictures of the boy-eating dog, I realized, yes, that's Smidge without his coat! He has gloves, but where'd the coat go? Argh.

I tell ya, the next time they come to me, whining over being out in the cold, cold 60' weather, I'm going to pull up these pictures and tell them,

"I WIN! I'm king of the hill! Out!"

I'm glad to see that EmBaby at least has inherited some sense... she's the most comfortable one in the house!

Kiss those babies!

~Dy

Cinderella, Brother-Style

Gosh, what a few days it's been. We've been busy. Some of it good-busy. Some of it, not so much. But in general, not bad. The kids have been a riot.

The boys decided to put on a puppet show for BabyGirl the other day. They wanted to do Cinderella, but thought we'd have to make puppets for it first. "Nah," I said (trying to convey more "creative, fun mom" than "really lazy, don't wanna do it mom," which was closer to the truth).

Look, we've got a lion. That could be the wicked stepmother. And an elephant, which sister could the elephant be?

Pretty soon, we had the full ensemble:
MonkeyPrince
Pigerella
Wicked Steplioness
Step-donkey
Step-elephant
Fairy Frog Who Makes Milk Shakes (Smidge's theatrical interpretation of the role)

Two sea serpents served for glass slippers.

Most of the action was ad-libbed, and I had to bow out about half way through the production because the boys had me in stitches too badly to perform my part as narrator.

I wish I'd filmed it. I really do need to find the camcorder, because these are the things that simply do not transfer well to words. I'd like to watch it again, too, as I'm sure I missed a good part of the action in the background. The frog stayed pretty busy. And one day, I think it will be sweet for Miss Emily to hear stories of how utterly devoted to her happiness her brothers have always been. But you know, a little visual aid wouldn't hurt.

Yep, gotta find that thing.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Books

Yesterday, as a treat for surviving my LAST trip to (this) dentist, I stopped at the local bookstore to browse a bit. I've only been there three times, and every time, it's after a trip to the dentist. I'm pretty sure the owner is beginning to suspect I'm a stroke victim in utter denial, as it's always the left side of my face that doesn't work when I go in.

I picked up The Chamber of Secrets for James, and a Nate the Great book for John. Grabbed a couple of biographies. Passed on a few books that looked interesting, but upon further inspection seemed a little graphic for our guys. Chose The Indian in the Cupboard for our next read aloud.

Someone had recommend the Dragonriders of Pern series for James, so I did grab the first in that series (Lessa of Pern). Read it last night. Um... Not a good recommendation for an eight-year old. Perhaps I'm more conservative on the sex issues than I thought, but I don't think I'd recommend the Pern books for anybody under the age of, say 13. The writing is easy to follow. The vocabulary isn't terribly difficult. The plot seems to be your typical action-adventure-fantasy plot, along the lines of Terry Brooks (who is the only author I can remember off the top of my head). It would be great stuff, if it weren't for little bits here and there that leave images a bit too graphic for such an age, at least for my children. (It's not the mating, or the multiple women in a Hold, or even that the Weyrwoman sleeps with the rider of whichever dragon her queen dragon has mated with this time. Those, we could handle comfortably. Some, we already have.)

At first, I thought I wouldn't be able to keep up with pre-reading books for James. The child is voracious in his reading. However, it seems that, at least for a while, I'll have to. Not such a bad arrangement, really, as I get to enjoy a wider variety of books than I would probably choose for myself. I'd kind of like to see if they've got the next book in the series. ;-)

Another great option this bookstore offers is that they'll order new books. WOOHOO! I hate going to the big chain stores, as they never have what I need, and then I get distracted by the eye-candy and walk out w/o the things I needed. So, this will be handy. I can take my order list down, pay with a check, and then browse with a few bucks cash while they process my order. Doesn't that sound heavenly?

Haven't taken the boys in yet, as it doesn't seem too child-friendly (the signs are EVERYWHERE!) but as much as the boys love a good bookstore, we'll all be making a trek down soon. I think they'll do fine once the owners have a chance to observe them in action a few times. It's definitely no Bay Books, but I think we may have found our local vendor!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Homeschool Meme

Well, I never did this one. But I've enjoyed reading the tips and mini-reviews other homeschoolers have shared. And since I'm really stalling on doing any actual work to the blog itself, here you go!

ONE HOMESCHOOL BOOK YOU HAVE ENJOYED:
Hmmm. Really, I think The Well-Trained Mind is my favorite. It's the one I can go back to when I need to re-calibrate. It's the one that first made Zorak and I look at one another and whisper, "THIS is what we were looking for!" Of course, that little eureka moment was followed by, "... and if we don't get to go to Idaho, this means we're going to have to do this ourselves!" (We'd found the book as required reading for parents at a Classical school in Idaho.) Obviously, we're not in Idaho, and we're doing it ourselves, and boy-howdy, am I glad I've still got my much-loved copy.

ONE RESOURCE YOU WOULDN'T BE WITHOUT:
Going to have to echo Amy on this one: "Well, duh, the internet."

But offline resources? I'd have to say the library is our favorite. It ought to be, for as much money as we, erm, donate.

ONE RESOURCE YOU WISH YOU HAD NEVER BOUGHT:
You know, I'm almost afraid to answer this one. So far, nothing. But then, fortunately, we were lucky with what we started off using. Since then, we've been very fortunate with our picks. So far, no stinkers!

ONE RESOURCE YOU ENJOYED LAST YEAR:
Museum memberships. I wish we could afford to maintain memberships to all of them locally - the Gardens, the Space and Rocket Center, Early Works, Burritt, Sci-Quest, Huntsville Museum of Art. We're really in a fantastic spot for excellent places that are just full of resources, and the boys are so easy to do these things with (huge bonus, there!) My mid-range goal is to maintain memberships to at least two each year, rotating out as we go. Someday, I'd like to maintain them all, year-round!

ONE RESOURCE YOU'LL BE USING NEXT YEAR:
Oops. I was going to say "everything in my sidebar", but I haven't replenished that portion of it yet.
Math-U-See, for both boys
Story of the World Vol II (yes, FINALLY!) and the Activity Guide for History,
Latin for Children, Primer B,
Writing Road to Reading, for spelling, phonics, general language arts
I think we'll start a more aggressive nature study of the Wildlife Refuge and make better use of the microscope for science. Would love to have us all keeping nature journals eventually.
And, with that goal in mind, I hope to start Drawing With Children. (not an affiliate link) We've had the book for a while, but things have just recently slowed down to the point that Zorak has agreed to take the two small ones for me once or twice a week, so we can maintain some semblance of quiet for the lessons.
I'm sorry, did you say "one"? I like to think of it as "one plan", or, say "one overall approach"... (not buyin' it, huh?)

ONE RESOURCE YOU'D LIKE TO BUY:
ONE? Just... one? Would somebody kindly round up all the recommended books in SOTW Vol. II for me, please? Can we call that One?

ONE RESOURCE YOU WISH EXISTED:
That book collection I mentioned above? Yeah. That'd be it.

ONE HOMESCHOOL CATALOG YOU ENJOY READING:
Oh, that's a hard one. I intentionally didn't tell Rainbow Resources our new address this year, just because I knew I wouldn't be buying anything, and I waste SO many hours thumbing through all the materials. That catalog is to me like a margarita to an alcoholic. And then, as I've mentioned here, American Science & Surplus. Now that one is fun - fun to read, and fun to buy from!

ONE WEBSITE YOU USE REGULARLY:
Old-Fashioned Education is one I go back to regularly, in large part because I'm too lazy to download and save all the great ideas, but also because she includes links to the gutenberg and mainlesson books.

TAG OTHER HOMESCHOOLERS:
Who hasn't done this yet? If you want to, you're it!

Get Sidetracked!

Or rather, "get back on track" would be a better way to put it. It's all about the focus.

Generally, by about eight PM, I'm focused on having a quiet home, a clean kitchen, and an entire cup of coffee downed without interruption. Eight is my arsenic hour. I know for most families it's that hour just before supper's ready - when you're trying to prepare supper, and the kids' sugar levels have plummeted, and the dog decides to mark the &%%#@ couch (or worse, the baby). I've been able to avoid that by slipping the kids protein snacks at regular intervals starting right around two in the afternoon, not letting the dog anywhere near the baby, and for supper - I either have it together early enough in the day that getting it done can masquerade as a fun family project, or I can just not make eye contact with Zorak until he gives up and fixes it. So, in all, that time frame works out okay for us.

But it's that bewitching second where 7:59 flips over to 8:00. I can't get it out of my head that the kids should be in bed by then. Zorak can't quite get on board with the idea that they should be in bed by then. And so, when that part of the day nears, he's busy not making eye contact with me (yes, revenge, a dish best served right after the supper she made you fix... I know), and I'm trying to get everybody to brush their teeth between bites so we can get to bed NOW. Obviously, it's easy to lose the focus in this poorly orchestrated bit of family life.

Tonight, after getting the small one down, I realized it was Awfully Quiet. I peeked into the boys' room - their lights were off, and all was quiet. I peeked into our room - Smidge and Zorak were out cold, cattywampus across the bed. Huh. Weird. No stories. No singing. No bad jokes. Just... Quiet. Balto and I hung out and watched Waiting for God on PBS. He didn't laugh so much, but I thought it was a great way to spend some of the Quiet. Then I came in, fresh cuppa joe in hand, remnants of a pecan pie in the other hand, ready to do a little blog work. I had just settled in when I heard the telltale swoosh of the toilet that tells me someone is up.

I listened (the speed and tone of the footfall that follows lets me know who is up, and why). Ah. It was James. Moving more slowly than when he's just hotfootin' it to bed. Coming up the hall.

And you know, I'm glad. I mean, I'm not glad the poor kid was up at ten-thirty at night because he couldn't sleep. But I'm glad he knew he could come to me and sit and talk, hang out, read a few stories together. We talked about a few things, about nothing. Just being together was nice.

After about an hour, his head grew heavy on my shoulder, and his eyes didn't quite recover from each blink. That was good timing on his part, because I'd suddenly started winging most of the story I was reading to him. Suddenly, there was a monster and a witch and a toad riding a horse. We got a good chuckle out of that. (I hope he will be that understanding when I do that from sheer dementia rather than sleepiness.) And then, off to bed.

And now... it is Quiet again. But this quiet feels better. My focus is back on track, where it should be. Those little ones in the back rooms, all now sleeping peacefully. Yeah, that's what it's about. And I'm thankful that I don't get so hung up in what I *think* things should be that I miss what they really are, because it's a whole lot better this way.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

A Few Quick Requests

Hey, guys, thanks for the feedback on the new layout. It is a bit less disconcerting now, isn't it? I'll tweak and fine tune a bit more later. Today, I worked on it until both my eyes and the children began to complain. And hey, if you ever wondered what a sepia text would look like, it seems we've found it! Just blends right in, doesn't it?

In the meantime, that little sidebar needs some lovin'. I got started, but obviously didn't get far before I gave up. Then PupDad informed me his blog has moved, which, honestly, I wouldn't know because I get to his blog from Alaska's blog, so I don't ever look at the URL. Actually, most of my blogrun is like that. You're in my speed dial, and I can get to you, I just can't tell anybody else how to find you. Please, if you know you really oughta be in there, leave a comment so I have all my info in one place. Think of it as your contribution to the Organizationally Impaired.

Oh, and for the record, that's not the Forever Home in the image. That's the barn. Just thought I'd mention that in case anybody was worried. ;-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Who Made This Big Mess?

Egads, yes, I know. I know. Hideous, isn't it? Please excuse the absolute car wreck that is my color scheme and template layout at the moment. If I had little orange barrel images, I'd stick them randomly about the page as a warning for navigators that this area is currently under construction.

Code has been printed out.

I've sent out the Bat Signal for help.

It won't be long now, folks.

Thanks for yer patience.

Dy

NewBlogger Question

If you've migrated your blog to NewBlogger (formerly Blogger Beta), and you upgraded your template to the new layout, did you lose your old comments? And how'd your customization hold up? Lost? Shoot me straight! ;-)

TIA,
Dy

Argh!

Just thought of some other points I wanted to add with regard to the discussion about Murray, but we got sucked into one of those movies that just sucks you right in, and... well, there ya go.

Let me throw this out there, while Zorak's making more coffee.

I would never, ever, under any circumstances, support any legislation that attempted to guide, restrict, edit, or oversee the education of any child based on IQ, potential, or any limiting device others may view as a means to streamline our educational system.

We offer the opportunity for education to all. That is a beautiful and unique thing. It is what allows us to remain free, to remain dynamic, and to remain hopeful for the future. We cannot force children to learn, regardless of a number on a piece of paper. Nor should we limit what they may learn.

It just hit me while discussing this with Zorak today that some of the concern over acknowledging or accepting an inequality of educability is that it may well lead to governmental oversight. You know, "for the children".

That's a long, nasty slide we don't want to take.

OK, back to the movie (he did it!! I didn't think he'd done it! Ugh... )

Dy

Birds (again)

Not legitimate bird-watching, of course, but the picto-birds. OK, here are the answers. You guys ROCKED! You got 'em!! So, here's the picture, and bonus nothingpoints to the following folks who guessed correctly (posted in order of posting in the comments section, below, just adding ones that haven't been already mentioned):




GrammaMack got Blue Jay and Kildeer!

Cheryl got those two and added pigeon (pig N).

Daniel (Hi, Daniel!) got quite a lot of them.
Left edge, second from top: Swallow.
Top center, near the glare: are those cylindrical objects 2 cans? Toucans? (the other can was completely obscured by the flash, so bonus points for deciphering that one!)
Third row, second from left: a pair of "keets" parakeets.
...Blue Jay, and squeezed between it and the right-hand edge is a turn. Tern.
Bottom Center: what else but a Chicken would be crossing the road?
Left edge above the Mario Kart thing, several M-shaped gull symbols are soaring over the water. I assume the capital E is an E-gull (eagle)?
WOW. Great job, Daniel!

Meredith, and her Herd-O-Witty-Boys, got the tricky one. She wrote:
TURKEY! (ha, ha, ha, ha, we got it!) Loggerhead Shrike (?) (Actually, no, but I'm impressed that you could see the wood through the flash! Extra points for that bit of detective work!), Owl (no, but you're on the right track)...a Loon or a Cuckoo? Mocking Bird... I know there are more...

She comes back to say:
That redhead is a Heron...Hair on! LOL! WOW! You got it!

OK, so what does that leave? That only leaves three, plus the obscured one in the flash! NOT BAD, guys! (If I'd been left to my own devices, I wouldn't have figured out all of them.)

AEIOUO is a spare-o (sparrow)
it it - pair of its, (parrots)
the card inside the "all" frame - card-in-all (cardinal)
And that one in the upper right is a woodpecker.

Man, y'all are good at these! I'd honestly thought there just wasn't any interest in knowing the answers, but I'm glad you had fun with it. We did, too. ('Course, we're a little weird that way...) So, there you have it.

If y'all decide to do one at home, take a pic and post it! We'd come play. :-)

Kiss those creative, wonderful babies!
~Dy

Intelligence, Potential and School, Oh, My!

I am feeling better tonight for the first time in about a month, so let's play!

Murray's articles (linked in the comments section here, if you haven't read them and would like to) have brought up discussions of all kinds, ranging from "ditto" to "NOOOO", and, fortunately, delving into deeper waters on both fronts: agree, disagree... OK, three fronts if you count the, "well, partially agree/disagree" front. What's got me giddy is that there is discussion. People are thinking, articulating, questioning and answering. We're INGing, folks, and not just the ugly ones, like gesturing and skulking. These are good INGs. Anyhow, for fun, I'd like to invite anyone who has written on this subject to please leave a comment and link to it. All sides welcome. I think there's plenty of interest, and it would be fun. So link away, cyberfriends!!

Two to start you off:
Kids Out and About's Deb Ross has written her thoughts on why she disagrees with Murray's basic premise.
Steph also wrote on this topic, from the perspective of agreement with Murray's thoughts.

In general, I do agree with Murray. I'll say upfront that I think we're asking the wrong questions, and so the answers aren't going to mean much. I'll also put it out there that I don't have all the answers, to any of these questions, right or wrong. My sphere of influence begins with the children I am responsible for, and rapidly decreases in strength as it spreads beyond that arena. Those whose lives I impact, I try to impact in a positive way, in an encouraging way, not because I think we are all equally educable (I don't) but because I believe we are all equally valuable, and thus, worthy of encouragement. As one of my mother's doctors told her, "Ideally, you'd eat better, exercise more, quit drinking and smoking, and stop being so grouchy. But my job is to work with you where you are, and that's what I'm going to do." These sorts of dialogues often beg a utopia that does not now exist, has never in the past existed, and most certainly will not in the future exist, neither through legislation or funding. Ever. That much I do know.

So. Not everyone is equally educable. Yes, it's difficult to say that without offending someone, somewhere. Although I hold this belief, I found myself a little stunned when my sister-in-law (whom I love but generally disagree with on everything political, social and spiritual), said that not every child can be taught to read well. What?! You're a reading advocacy, pro-federal funding, NEA-backing, reading teacher! How can you say that? Turns out, she's run into many children who simply haven't got it in them to learn to read with fluency, let alone an any given grade level. Wow. That certainly sounds like a harsh condemnation of a child's future. Immediately, the mind begins reeling, sifting through files, ideas, programs, medical data... there must be some way, we tell ourselves... It's not a good feeling, in our guts, to think that, in a society which has put such an elevated status for "higher education" onto the field, some people cannot attain proficiency to a degree that will allow (advancement? access? _______? - this portion often remains empty in these discussions.) And yet, I had to agree with her. We know people who are like that. The matter (grey matter, IQ, potential, whatever you want to call it) simply is not there to work with. So, no, I don't believe everyone is equally educable. I've seen enough examples of that than to be able to claim otherwise. But I'm going to ask whether that ought to be the focus? Should we spend our resources trying to make everyone equally capable in all areas? Should we find fault with anyone who asserts that not everybody is smart enough to be a rocket scientist? Or, take that a bit further, is there any shame in not being the smartest, in knowing there are those who are smarter?

I would say that much of the negative reaction to the premise of educable inequality is grounded in a suspicion that anyone who believes there are levels of educability must consequently believe there's a direct correlation to value as a human. (Period. I'm not talking about contributions to humankind, but simply as. a. human.) I'd say it's wrong to make that assumption. The very few people I've encountered who believe that intelligence equates to superiority as a person, believed both that they were inordinately intelligent and superior to others, and were, in fact, neither. However, it might be somewhat naive to say that those of lesser ability can be anticipated to make greater achievements. More on that, later.

I like what Aunt B has said, "We're all just one accident away from not having a good brain." She's right. All of us. Nobody's exempt from that, and the fact that you've avoided The Big Konk on the Head does not imbue you with superpowers, or First Citizen status. It simply means you haven't been dealt that hand. Yet. That's all.

But unless, or (God forbid) until, you get the Konk, you've got some matter to work with. How much? And that's where the breakdown occurs. The measurable IQ, as defined by science (Murray uses the term, g, in speaking about this amount of matter), hasn't been shown to be dynamic over the long run. It simply hasn't. People ask, to what extent are external forces, such as diet, exercize and environment, or the internal point of attention you choose to give to any given thing, able to affect your matter? A slacker, with any amount of matter, is not going to achieve much. However, a brilliant and highly-mattered slacker is likely to achieve more, with less effort, than a mildly-mattered individual with a relatively good work ethic.

Does this variance come into play? What about long-term results? Would the stamina required for high level educability weed out even the most talented slacker? Does it matter, or is that factor zeroed-out in this discussion? I don't know. I'm not certain what the definitions are, to be honest. When dealing with education, we're usually talking about return on investment. Where will each individual, and society, be best served by the use of the resources available for education? Is that why people get antsy, feeling that somebody won't feel empowered to hear he's not the academic equivalent of star quarterback material? I'm not sure.

So we speak of inclination, of "natural abilities". "Natural ability" could well be the layman's method of gauging intelligence. We don't have ready access to psychometric methodology or laboratories, so we go with what we can see, what we can tangibly use for our models. Again, I don't know. But, in looking at natural ability, you may be more inclined in one direction than another. Most of us are. You may be able to look at an abstract of a rocket engine and put together a prototype with a dremel tool and a safety pin, while the rest of us stand around, scratching our behinds and trying not to look lost. If that's the case, couldn't an argument be made that more of your matter is dedicated to that direction? Or even, that you've got more matter to allocate? People do have different abilities, differing skills, and widely varying levels of each, a fact which, in our society, it's near-heresy to say.

To take a physical, rather than mental, example, let's look at me. I'm not what you'd call a weakling. But I'm nowhere near as strong as Zorak. Nor as coordinated. If you need something extremely heavy moved via an indirect route that will involve an elevation change, I'm pretty useless as anything other than a witness for the EMTs. I could focus, train, work hard, and dedicate everything I am and everything I have to becoming the absolute strongest I can be... and Arnold Schwarzenegger could still knock me out in three seconds flat. I couldn't even pretend I could outrun the man. It would be over before it began.

I have no doubt there are people who could do the same thing with me cognitively. I'm no idiot, but I am not a genius. No amount of study could make me such. I could, with an exorbitant amount of effort and focus, become an engineer. My home would suffer, my children would be without on many fronts, my husband would wonder if I'd left him completely. I would have no time, effort, or energy left to engage in any other activities that make me a productive, contributing member of this society. And in the end, I would have a degree, and be an engineer. No guarantees, even at that point, that I would be a good one. Would it be worth it? What would be the benefit, both to myself (would I be a better, more fulfilled person? a better woman?) and to my society (would I be a better citizen? voter? wife? volunteer?) Perhaps those are the questions we should be asking.

Perhaps, rather than asking whether it's wrong to try to level the playing field, or whether it's right to put inordinate amounts of energy into making us all college scholars, we ought to look at what we can invest in each child to help him become the most productive, responsible, contributing, and yes, fulfilled citizen he can be.

And within my sphere of influence, I have set the bar high. Not so high that they can't clear it, but high enough that they'll have the satisfaction of a Job Well Done when they have cleared it. One of the benefits of individualized education, and personalized goals for education, I suppose.

NO ANSWERS FOR YOU!

You people didn't even TRY! Nobody guessed! *pout*

We're not telling, now.

:-D

Dy

...chatting

Well, you know, the problem with making the blogrun, answering the phone, and chatting before actually blogging is that I get all my chatting done, and then, well, I'm done.

Tonight I've read about and discussed (both online and in person) Clinton's announcement, "universal healthcare", the rising price of corn and it's impact in Mexico, Roe V. Wade, knitting, the joys of little boys and winter snowstorms, precious babies, weird years, The Weather Channel's Heidi Cullen, the absolute heart-pounding glee of discovering a reluctant reader curled up quietly enjoying a book sans prompting (!!!), how completely and utterly children nestle themselves into our hearts, a friend's return "home" after a prolonged time away, how to help more and be better at the things we do, whether we have an obligation to do so, Murray's article on education and intelligence (Steph, I started to comment, got carried away and shelved it - will probably blog on that this week, though).


~~~ Insert Time Warp ~~~

OK, I'd planned to link to a selection of news stories on each of these topics, from a few perspectives, but I got lost here, and now it's after midnight. But that's a truly fascinating site!

And so, now I'm *really* done and ready to collapse. So, rather than links or kibbitzing, I'll just show you what we did for fun after lunch today. The boys love word games. The other day, Zorak drew a rocket and a baby head, and asked the boys what it was. (Anybody know? I'll answer in the comments.) Today, they wanted to do more. So we did "Birds". How many "birds" can you find in this photo? (Some of them are horribly obscure, but we were in the Zone already, and there was no going back. And I apologize now for one of them. I think you must be a little boy, or have been a little boy, to get it.)



Oh, and the thing in the bottom left - not a bird. It's a Mario Kart thing. And the road w/ the box? It's a question: what's in the box? (look carefully)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Post-Birthday Day

We had a lovely time Sunday, Officially Observing EmBaby's Birthday. There's just something special about your first introduction to Flaming Food! She warmed up to it after the boys blew out the candle for her.


In keeping with The Nature of Things, Zorak and I aren't strong on the "planning" aspect of things, or rather, the "coordinating" part, but we have friends who are gracious about it. I had to use my "Get Out of Hostess Jail Free" card, because Zorak told our guests to arrive a full hour and a half earlier than I'd said I could have everything ready. (Honest misunderstanding. I think.) But then, they called two hours before *that* time to say they were on their way. Oy! Well, folks, at that point, you're just not going to get the full presentation. I need a shower, so make yourself comfortable. Drinks are in the fridge. Probably some snacks in there, too. We visited, we cooked, we ate.


I experimented a bit in the kitchen, which I probably should not ever do in front of others. I hope they forgive me. The lasagna (not an experiment) turned out great. The breadsticks (not normally an experiment, but we'd thrown together a new batch of French Bread mix and it turned out, well, not so much). They were kinda gummy. Well, that's embarrassing. Salad - yeah, I'd have to work pretty hard to botch a salad. It was good.


The Namaste cake turned out lovely, as usual (I love Namaste!) I tried my hand at making my first-ever poured icing. Um... huh. Well, at least I know what to do differently next time! I let it get too warm, so it didn't adhere well to the sides, as you can see. And, as you can see, the boys didn't care one whit what it looked like. I love these ages.


And now, the kitchen is clean, the children are detoxed (detoxing... it's a process), and it's back to our regularly scheduled programming. I will leave you with gratuitous first birthday cake photos.

"Are you seriously putting that on my tray?"

"MMM! Have you tried the stuff on top of this thing? MMM!"

"OH! You mean like this!"

Kiss those sweet, sticky babies!
~Dy

What A Year!

A year ago, our family grew by one. A girl. Our sweet BabyGirl. Oh. My. Word. She was so tiny. So precious. So new. And she has been busy!

In the last year, Miss Emily has done quite a lot. For starters, she's tripled her birth weight. That's quite a feat! (The boys are envious.)

She's dropped the "Miss" portion of her name. And the "Emily" part. She answers mostly to "BabyGirl", now. Much as we've done with Smidge, I imagine we'll have to start calling her by her proper name at some point. But right now, "BabyGirl" just fits so beautifully.

She developed a healthy sense of humor straight off. It's served her well so far. (She may actually think this is a joke, and is waiting for her real family to come get her... any day now... waiting...)

She's wrapped more than one person around her wee, pudgy fingers with those eyes, and that giggle, and those cheeks...

She's known love, and warmth, and comfort. No matter where we've gone.

She entered the covenant family of believers, and inherited more family than she knows.

She spent the summer being quite the little hostess, gettin' tips from Granny on all the good things in life.

Once she outgrew the bouncy seat, she discovered the joys of alternative transportation! *beep* *beep*

Before long, BabyGirl was ready to see the world. Well, Florida, anyway. What fun! (And that hat? That is inter-generational payback. She will hate this photo one day, and I will think it's the sweetest thing ever. And I have three Grandmas from the boat trip who'll back me up.)

She's become a daring eater. This will not be her only taste of sushi, I'm sure.

She figured out what's behind those pesky zippers on the diaper bag. (And how cupboards work, where the pots are hid, the best place in the boys' closet to hide, and all the good spots for snuggling!)


And a lot of the time, she just sat in awe of her beautiful world.

And we sat in awe, seeing the world through her beautiful eyes.



Happy First Birthday, Sweet BabyGirl! You've changed our home in so many ways, all of them good. You've brought us joy, and delight, and wonder. Just when we thought our lives couldn't be any more full, you came along. We love you, BabyGirl!

*(That lovely white dress up at the top? It's a gift from her birthday buddy, sweet S. J.. Thank you, Mere! She loves her special dress! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SARAH JANE!!)

Happy Baby Kisses All Around!
~Dy

In twenty years,

I hope to be sitting at the banquet table for the wedding of one of my children. I can see it now... Everyone gathered together, all decked out in their wedding garments, surrounded by the people and things that make them happy, the band playing uplifting music... ah, it will be lovely.

And Zorak and I are going to sit there, beaming on the inside, and...

bicker.

That's right. We're going to touch each other's plates, and whine about it. He's going to swing his leg and kick *my* chair. Repeatedly. Ignoring all warnings. One of us will keep moving, and the other one will get up and FOLLOW, plate and all. And right in the middle of each toast, one of us will shout, "Would you stop TOUCHING ME!"

And that will be just the beginning, because by that time, I'm sure there will be payback galore built up from these four, and it's going to take some ingenuity on our part, but I'm pretty sure we will be able to cram all of it into the wedding festivities. Oh, yes. We're gonna party like somebody else is footin' the bill, folks!

OK.

Probably not. Truthfully, I am deeply grateful that neither of our parents did that at our wedding. Whooeee, that would've been one humdinger of a spectacle (we had a lot of payback coming from our raisings). And I guess that's the thing about parenting. You remind your children of a thousand rules of behavior a thousand times over: do not kick your brother's chair; do not put your fingers in someone else's food; do not get up and follow someone who has just stood, demanded in no uncertain terms that you leave him alone, and stormed off (actually, you may want to cover that one a few extra times - could save a life some day). And still, five years down the road, you find yourself tensing up, bracing yourself for combat because you *know* you're going to have to say it 1,001 times. Or more. And you dream of the day you can start a food fight at your son's promotion party. Or play frisbee with lunchmeats at your daughter's college graduation. Or pick a brawl at the wedding...

But when the time comes, those thousand and one (or million and one) reminders have kicked in and done their job. You've done your job. And suddenly, you realize you don't want to ruin it. You've spent all these years helping them learn not to ruin it for themselves... you want to sit back, wallow it in, think up new things to worry about, and love them. Just like you've loved them through everything.

I will probably look at Zorak, though, and smile mischeviously when he whispers, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" (Because I never am, and we both know that, but at that point, we may just be...)

But just to be on the safe side, don't sit near us at the wedding, ok?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy