OK, I am never doing that again. I read Bellefleur. To the end. All the way through. I actually enjoy JCO's writing structure, as it forces (literally grabs the eyeballs and the brain and forces) me to slow down, to read and digest each sentence separately, to keep in mind quirks and characteristics mentioned 300 pages previously (because they will be important later, trust me, quiz at the end of book Four!) The woman has a way with words, that's certain.
What I cannot stomach, however, is the sensation of being caught in a traffic jam at a roundabout upon which there was a violent and deadly automobile accident. I'm not a goose-necker at accidents. If there is no help yet, we pull over and offer aid (blankets, water, call 911). If help has arrived, we pray for those involved and those aiding the victims and move on. They don't need us in the way. They don't need us craning our necks to see what happened, or how badly it happened. But reading Bellefleur gives one the sensation of being stuck in traffic, and after a while, for lack of anything else, you view the scene. You recoil is alarm and look away. Eventually, your gaze drifts back to the carnage, and you notice something, perhaps a shoe or a cap thrown aside. How heartbreakingly jarring. Then you see an arm, and wonder whose it was. So you find yourself looking for a one-armed individual somewhere amidst the clutter, and that's when you notice the maggots. The mangy dog. The hysterical child. It's disturbing. What's worse, is that, while I didn't particularly care for any of the characters other than little Germaine, (I didn't get the feeling she wants the reader to identify with them, as most of them are so completely uni-laterally undeveloped, and what development there is, goes well over the realm of empathetic identification into what can only be described as a profile of a sociopath. Many of them. In one book.) I felt compelled to read on. I said I would finish the book, and I did. And I will never, never do that to myself again. It is safe to say that I have given her more than one glance, and I'm none the better for having done so.
I'm recovering now with Pride & Prejudice, which I've never read, and am absolutely kicking myself for not having done so many times before! It's just the balm my mind needed after the threshing it got with Oates. It's so delightful (or perhaps part of it the drastic contrast to the previous material?) that I've taken to following Zorak about the house, reading excerpts. Austen, however, isn't Stephenson, and I don't think he'll be picking it up just to make me stop. But that's okay, I can read and walk at the same time! *grin*
OCTOBER! It's October, and we are sooooo excited. Except, that, well, the temperatures are flaring back into the 90's this week, and that is so very, very wrong. Zorak said he smelled fall at 5:12 Friday afternoon. (I think that was the time. He did say he noted it when it happened, but I don't remember, precisely.) I missed it, and now it'll probably be another three weeks before it happens again. And I received a wonderful sweater in the mail from a friend, but it has to sit there on my dresser, taunting me, for a while longer. (Maybe I can wear it to bed? It's a really comfy sweater!)
The boys have their costumes lined up, which is good. Gives me plenty of time to procrastinate on getting them made. (It's good to know exactly what you're putting off, isn't it?) James wants to be Superman again, "since the costume still fits". (Love that kid! So practical!) John wants to be Jack Sparrow (something definite to pretend I'm already working on! WOOHOO!) and Smidge wants to be a ghost, or a pirate, or perhaps a pirate ghost, or *gasp*giggle*gasp* THOMAS! Yup, that one's mine, too.
My basic plan is to put off making anything until he decides (you know, so that I can purchase all the materials at once...) Then we will run around town like lost puppies ALL DAY LONG on October 31st, and it will be long, long past supper that I finally give up, staple strings of yarn to a black paper pirate hat, and shove them out the door. It's simple, no more than a variation on a theme, really. We've got it down, pat. What are your plans?
Kiss those babies! (Thankfully, they'll remember the kisses more than the botched costumes!)
~Dy
If you don't mind the construction dust, come on in. The coffee's hot, the food's good, and the door is open...
Monday, October 2
Thursday, September 28
General Kid Stuff
James finally lost his two top front teeth. The ones that have been loose since the beginning of August, possibly late July. Both of them in one fell stroke, pretty much. Then he bled profusely, which was more than a little disconcerting. He jumped, danced, whooped. We sang, "All I Want For Christmas", and he danced around a bit more. He'd lost one down the drain (which would be tooth #3 that's found it's way to an untimely demise) and Zorak dismantled the bathroom sink to retrieve it. He didn't really want to, but the reaction from the Delighted Little Boy made him awfully glad he did.
John, who is beyond anxious to loose a tooth (I think, at this point, he'd willingly take a baseball to the head if he thought it would help), treated the occasion with such reverence and awe that I had to leave the room to giggle. James could not get over the concept that those teeth are the same size as the one Miss Emily sprouted yesterday, and so he basked in the wonder of it all, as well.
Smidge hung with the Big Dogs today, and then crashed during supper. Literally, during supper. After several spillage incidents, and a rather negative attempt at tasting the fish steaks, he climbed down from his chair, curled up in Zorak's lap, whispered a spontaneous, "I love you, Daddy," and passed out. He wants to be so big. And we are in no hurry, really.
John is now proficient enough with his reading that he gets, and makes, the word jokes we make all the time. He's in the club, man! And lovin' it! Sometimes, though, he'll read a word that's new, or long, or just unique, and then he'll stop and give a quick RCA Puppy head-tilt before asking, "Did I just read that correctly?" WRTR may be dry, it may be convoluted as heck, but I have to say it. is. awesome.
I asked the boys for a Latin for Children update today. So far, two thumbs up from the Small Ones. They love it, and they're learning. One of the activities in Lesson 3 has a vocabulary word conjugated, and asks for its meaning. Although we hadn't actually conjugated that word (um, hadn't conjugated any words other than the amo/amas... chant they'd learned), both boys spotted it, and knew what it meant. Oh. My. Word. How cool is that?!? The chant CD is also a much-favored hit with the children. I couldn't bribe them to pay attention through the PL chant CD, but the LfC CD they asked to keep in the car, next to Raffi. So if you see us driving down the road, and it looks like we're playing charades and singing like frat boys on Spring Break, it's just Latin vocab review. Good stuff.
Oh, and Miss Emily is so ROUND. She's just very, very round. We thought she was going to get a neck, after the last growth spurt, but them "pft" she just plumped right back up. I have never, in my life, seen such a happy child. A happy, round ball of snuggly Baby. This is so amazing, no matter how many times we experience it. It's just incredibly amazing. We have got to get this child a normal floor to crawl on, though. Now that's she's not only mobile, but has some direction control, it's difficult to keep her in the rooms with carpet. She wants to be where the action is, where the food is, and that's not in the carpeted rooms. Basically, she's an 18# dust mop, and the boys have taken to picking the bits of sawdust and wood chips off her when she sits back up. Sure, it's great family bonding time, but it's a little weird. Even for us. We have GOT to finish this house.
On that note, though, it's time for bed. Tomorrow is a sheetrocking and taping day for the school room. It should be finished by the end of the weekend. And I will, when we put the room back together, attempt to get the old (semi-dead) printer (which has the camera memory card reader on it) hooked up so I can upload the pictures I've been promising for months now.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
John, who is beyond anxious to loose a tooth (I think, at this point, he'd willingly take a baseball to the head if he thought it would help), treated the occasion with such reverence and awe that I had to leave the room to giggle. James could not get over the concept that those teeth are the same size as the one Miss Emily sprouted yesterday, and so he basked in the wonder of it all, as well.
Smidge hung with the Big Dogs today, and then crashed during supper. Literally, during supper. After several spillage incidents, and a rather negative attempt at tasting the fish steaks, he climbed down from his chair, curled up in Zorak's lap, whispered a spontaneous, "I love you, Daddy," and passed out. He wants to be so big. And we are in no hurry, really.
John is now proficient enough with his reading that he gets, and makes, the word jokes we make all the time. He's in the club, man! And lovin' it! Sometimes, though, he'll read a word that's new, or long, or just unique, and then he'll stop and give a quick RCA Puppy head-tilt before asking, "Did I just read that correctly?" WRTR may be dry, it may be convoluted as heck, but I have to say it. is. awesome.
I asked the boys for a Latin for Children update today. So far, two thumbs up from the Small Ones. They love it, and they're learning. One of the activities in Lesson 3 has a vocabulary word conjugated, and asks for its meaning. Although we hadn't actually conjugated that word (um, hadn't conjugated any words other than the amo/amas... chant they'd learned), both boys spotted it, and knew what it meant. Oh. My. Word. How cool is that?!? The chant CD is also a much-favored hit with the children. I couldn't bribe them to pay attention through the PL chant CD, but the LfC CD they asked to keep in the car, next to Raffi. So if you see us driving down the road, and it looks like we're playing charades and singing like frat boys on Spring Break, it's just Latin vocab review. Good stuff.
Oh, and Miss Emily is so ROUND. She's just very, very round. We thought she was going to get a neck, after the last growth spurt, but them "pft" she just plumped right back up. I have never, in my life, seen such a happy child. A happy, round ball of snuggly Baby. This is so amazing, no matter how many times we experience it. It's just incredibly amazing. We have got to get this child a normal floor to crawl on, though. Now that's she's not only mobile, but has some direction control, it's difficult to keep her in the rooms with carpet. She wants to be where the action is, where the food is, and that's not in the carpeted rooms. Basically, she's an 18# dust mop, and the boys have taken to picking the bits of sawdust and wood chips off her when she sits back up. Sure, it's great family bonding time, but it's a little weird. Even for us. We have GOT to finish this house.
On that note, though, it's time for bed. Tomorrow is a sheetrocking and taping day for the school room. It should be finished by the end of the weekend. And I will, when we put the room back together, attempt to get the old (semi-dead) printer (which has the camera memory card reader on it) hooked up so I can upload the pictures I've been promising for months now.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Cool Latin Stuff
This is mostly just so I can remember where I put it. Too bad I can't keep all my important documents blogged, huh?
OK, so if you want to conjugate Latin verbs instantly, check out Michael McLaron's Website. Neat!
And then I found CONJUGUEMOS!, what looks like a nifty, FREE (gotta love that) program for anyone studying German, French, Spanish, or Latin. I haven't registered yet, so if anyone does it before I get around to it, please post back and let us know what you think/how it went/if anything weird popped up. Nothing like being part of the last round of trials, huh? Next week, we'll be taking randomly selected medications just to see what happens!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
OK, so if you want to conjugate Latin verbs instantly, check out Michael McLaron's Website. Neat!
And then I found CONJUGUEMOS!, what looks like a nifty, FREE (gotta love that) program for anyone studying German, French, Spanish, or Latin. I haven't registered yet, so if anyone does it before I get around to it, please post back and let us know what you think/how it went/if anything weird popped up. Nothing like being part of the last round of trials, huh? Next week, we'll be taking randomly selected medications just to see what happens!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, September 27
Not Dissin' The Honey
Evidently, I need to clarify: Zorak is not a goof, nor is he incompetent. I wasn't dissing him in the bicycle post. Honest. He's awesome, and he does amazing things, and he constantly astounds me with, not only his skills and abilities, but his gentle nature and deep affection for others.
That post was all about how *I* am a total loser when it comes to bikes. All on me, there. And the thing was left partially assembled simply because, well, when you have to leave the house that stinkin' early, midnight is a mighty rough time to be doing assembly work. (That was the cause for my Skeptical Look - he's talented and kind, but not so much with the time estimates for projects. *grin*)
Anyhow, I got the rest of the thing done, except for the rear brakes, which I worked on rather diligently, with only minor cursing and the occasional foray back into the kitchen for more coffee. Finally, I had to admit defeat and wait for Zorak. He walked in and, with a few quick moves, had the brakes attached and adjusted to perfection. We stood there, we two. He, staring at the happy boy, me, staring at the Hubby. "How'd you do that?" I asked. He chuckled, "Did you forget about all the kids in Maryland?"
And that's when I remembered, or rather, that's when it clicked with me. There were a large number of kids in our neighborhood in Maryland who just didn't have an adult in their lives to tend to the peripherals. Wonderful Neighbor Wife and I tended to the little ones, providing adult supervision and a safe place to play, as well as constructive activity to discourage their previous activities. We made available the sidewalk chalk, jump ropes, water play, a secure place to toodle around on their bikes and trikes. We packed extra food for the front yard picnics.
Zorak, meanwhile, became the Go-To guy for all the adolescent and pre-adolescent young men in the area. He helped them with their equipment, and with their bikes. It started out simply enough, with a request to use our foot pump to air up a tire. But it soon morphed into an informal mentoring relationship. The boys hung out more in our portion of the neighborhood, waiting for his assistance and a chance to learn. He encouraged them in his natural, gentle way. He made himself available. They began interacting with the other neighbors as they worked in the front yard, and became part of the community. Bit by bit, he amassed all the necessary equipment to make repairs and do maintenance - brakes, pads, calipers, tubes, pumps, etc. He taught the kids how to take care of their things, how to make adjustments, do maintenance, what to look for and where to find answers. It was awesome, and the kids were awesome. When we left, he gifted the boys with all of the supplies he'd purchased during our time there, and we hope that the things they learned will stick with them as much as the things we learned have.
It's all connected, isn't it? Being kind and helpful to someone may just feel like the right thing to do, and your goal may be to help somebody out and make a difference. But it's a bonus to look back and see that there's been a difference made in you, along the way, as well.
And, while Zorak is impressing me with his vast array of somewhat obscure knowledge, I did not know you can grow a loofah! I also did not know you can eat them. He did, and has. And from now on, I promise not to be surprised by the wonderful things I'm bound to continue discovering about this man. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
That post was all about how *I* am a total loser when it comes to bikes. All on me, there. And the thing was left partially assembled simply because, well, when you have to leave the house that stinkin' early, midnight is a mighty rough time to be doing assembly work. (That was the cause for my Skeptical Look - he's talented and kind, but not so much with the time estimates for projects. *grin*)
Anyhow, I got the rest of the thing done, except for the rear brakes, which I worked on rather diligently, with only minor cursing and the occasional foray back into the kitchen for more coffee. Finally, I had to admit defeat and wait for Zorak. He walked in and, with a few quick moves, had the brakes attached and adjusted to perfection. We stood there, we two. He, staring at the happy boy, me, staring at the Hubby. "How'd you do that?" I asked. He chuckled, "Did you forget about all the kids in Maryland?"
And that's when I remembered, or rather, that's when it clicked with me. There were a large number of kids in our neighborhood in Maryland who just didn't have an adult in their lives to tend to the peripherals. Wonderful Neighbor Wife and I tended to the little ones, providing adult supervision and a safe place to play, as well as constructive activity to discourage their previous activities. We made available the sidewalk chalk, jump ropes, water play, a secure place to toodle around on their bikes and trikes. We packed extra food for the front yard picnics.
Zorak, meanwhile, became the Go-To guy for all the adolescent and pre-adolescent young men in the area. He helped them with their equipment, and with their bikes. It started out simply enough, with a request to use our foot pump to air up a tire. But it soon morphed into an informal mentoring relationship. The boys hung out more in our portion of the neighborhood, waiting for his assistance and a chance to learn. He encouraged them in his natural, gentle way. He made himself available. They began interacting with the other neighbors as they worked in the front yard, and became part of the community. Bit by bit, he amassed all the necessary equipment to make repairs and do maintenance - brakes, pads, calipers, tubes, pumps, etc. He taught the kids how to take care of their things, how to make adjustments, do maintenance, what to look for and where to find answers. It was awesome, and the kids were awesome. When we left, he gifted the boys with all of the supplies he'd purchased during our time there, and we hope that the things they learned will stick with them as much as the things we learned have.
It's all connected, isn't it? Being kind and helpful to someone may just feel like the right thing to do, and your goal may be to help somebody out and make a difference. But it's a bonus to look back and see that there's been a difference made in you, along the way, as well.
And, while Zorak is impressing me with his vast array of somewhat obscure knowledge, I did not know you can grow a loofah! I also did not know you can eat them. He did, and has. And from now on, I promise not to be surprised by the wonderful things I'm bound to continue discovering about this man. :-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
A Little Meat On Your Bones
As a self-conscious teenager, I didn't think that phrase was such a dandy. Tonight, however, it saved the day!
The day started out well enough: we ate a wonderful breakfast, did our Latin on the swings, did our reading and Bible over Legos, and managed to get a few chores accomplished. Then, a little before lunchtime, I felt the vague, twinging pain of a migraine slithering up the back of my head. It was tempting to slide right into full denial mode, but then I did the math and realized I'd be incapacitated, on the bathroom floor, a full two hours before Zorak got home. OK, fine. I'll be a grown up about this and come up with a game plan.
I sucked down a few Aleve, informed the boys that Mommy was going to feed them and then go hide for a bit, and we're watching movies this afternoon (hurray! -- ow, whisper "hurray", okay?) I threw on some ramen, broke out the cheese sticks and sliced up some apples. Then moved the peanut butter down to the counter and loosened the lid, just in case they decided they were still hungry long after I ceased being capable of caring. That's when Zorak called to say he missed lunch today and could I please have something ready fairly early this evening? That is, normally, a completely reasonable request. Today, it made me want to cry. Then he said, "Just thaw some of those pork ribs and I'll grill 'em when I get home." OH. OK, thawing is a quiet activity. I can do that.
I had to lay down, though, before my head exploded, so I put off the thawing of the meat. Eventually, I was not quite recovered, but had the near-certainty that I'd somehow managed to, if not head it off completely, at least keep it at bay, so I got up and began poking around in the kitchen. My thought was that I could partially defrost the ribs in the microwave, throw some veggies together, do a quick and easy tidy on the kitchen, and still have supper ready fairly early.
But there weren't any pork ribs. I know. I looked. In the freezer. In the fridge. In the Suburban (just in case there'd been some horrible miscommunication - we've seen worse). No ribs. No meat, other than bacon and Italian sausages. I don't care for Italian sausages on my best days. Leaning over into the freezer, causing my brains to bulge from my eyes didn't make it sound any more appealing. The boys helped me empty the freezer, graciously ignoring my quiet, frantic whispering, "He said there were ribs in here. I can't see them. He said they were there. Where'd they go?" We emptied the entire thing and all we found was two used glo-sticks, half an otter pop (I don't want to know), a bag of berries I'd forgotten we have, and one small package labled, "Pork for Stew". Huh. Well, it's not Italian sausage, let's see what we can do with it. I opened the package to find... a soup bone. Pork for split pea soup, perhaps navy bean soup, but not stew. (Note to self: don't let whoever labled these things anywhere near the wrapping process ever again, although I suspect I may have been the culprit...)
Well, whaddya know, our oddities paid off: there was enough meat on the bone to make a meal for five! A few chopped potatoes, sliced onions, carrots, celery and a Tbsp. of bullion - brown the meat and onions, throw it all together into a roasting pan, cover and cook for a whopping 15 minutes at 300' (the bite-sized potato chunks make this possible - gotta love that). Ta-da! A delicious, quiet, fast, nutritious meal that saved the day by giving me time to lay down and still get supper going on time.
Too bad Part II: The Leftovers won't work out. There aren't any. It was a surprise hit with all the kids, as well as with Zorak. Sweet!
The moral of the story: It's good to keep a little meat on your bones!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The day started out well enough: we ate a wonderful breakfast, did our Latin on the swings, did our reading and Bible over Legos, and managed to get a few chores accomplished. Then, a little before lunchtime, I felt the vague, twinging pain of a migraine slithering up the back of my head. It was tempting to slide right into full denial mode, but then I did the math and realized I'd be incapacitated, on the bathroom floor, a full two hours before Zorak got home. OK, fine. I'll be a grown up about this and come up with a game plan.
I sucked down a few Aleve, informed the boys that Mommy was going to feed them and then go hide for a bit, and we're watching movies this afternoon (hurray! -- ow, whisper "hurray", okay?) I threw on some ramen, broke out the cheese sticks and sliced up some apples. Then moved the peanut butter down to the counter and loosened the lid, just in case they decided they were still hungry long after I ceased being capable of caring. That's when Zorak called to say he missed lunch today and could I please have something ready fairly early this evening? That is, normally, a completely reasonable request. Today, it made me want to cry. Then he said, "Just thaw some of those pork ribs and I'll grill 'em when I get home." OH. OK, thawing is a quiet activity. I can do that.
I had to lay down, though, before my head exploded, so I put off the thawing of the meat. Eventually, I was not quite recovered, but had the near-certainty that I'd somehow managed to, if not head it off completely, at least keep it at bay, so I got up and began poking around in the kitchen. My thought was that I could partially defrost the ribs in the microwave, throw some veggies together, do a quick and easy tidy on the kitchen, and still have supper ready fairly early.
But there weren't any pork ribs. I know. I looked. In the freezer. In the fridge. In the Suburban (just in case there'd been some horrible miscommunication - we've seen worse). No ribs. No meat, other than bacon and Italian sausages. I don't care for Italian sausages on my best days. Leaning over into the freezer, causing my brains to bulge from my eyes didn't make it sound any more appealing. The boys helped me empty the freezer, graciously ignoring my quiet, frantic whispering, "He said there were ribs in here. I can't see them. He said they were there. Where'd they go?" We emptied the entire thing and all we found was two used glo-sticks, half an otter pop (I don't want to know), a bag of berries I'd forgotten we have, and one small package labled, "Pork for Stew". Huh. Well, it's not Italian sausage, let's see what we can do with it. I opened the package to find... a soup bone. Pork for split pea soup, perhaps navy bean soup, but not stew. (Note to self: don't let whoever labled these things anywhere near the wrapping process ever again, although I suspect I may have been the culprit...)
Well, whaddya know, our oddities paid off: there was enough meat on the bone to make a meal for five! A few chopped potatoes, sliced onions, carrots, celery and a Tbsp. of bullion - brown the meat and onions, throw it all together into a roasting pan, cover and cook for a whopping 15 minutes at 300' (the bite-sized potato chunks make this possible - gotta love that). Ta-da! A delicious, quiet, fast, nutritious meal that saved the day by giving me time to lay down and still get supper going on time.
Too bad Part II: The Leftovers won't work out. There aren't any. It was a surprise hit with all the kids, as well as with Zorak. Sweet!
The moral of the story: It's good to keep a little meat on your bones!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, September 26
The Church and the Environment
What a great discussion!
Sarah has posted a wonderful entry on her musings about getting the church, as a corporate body, involved in a more active role of environmental stewardship. She's looking for ideas, so if you've any thoughts on the subject, please stop by and share them. (You must have an account to leave a comment w/ xanga, so if you don't have one, please feel free to leave your thoughts here. Forewarning, though, comments are moderated, and while I don't filter out dissenting voices, I do filter out sheer nastiness.)
I haven't pursued this line of thinking before now - it's a new twist on the idea, though, and so far some good discussion has spring up from it. One of the things I'd love to see (coming from me, not from Sarah, I'm not sure what her thoughts on it are) is how best to bring this issue to the table without making, or creating, a partisan political rally out of it. How best to take the individual into the corporate without creating a sticky wicket of ire from the left and the right. Or if it should be brought into the corporate realm, at all?
Anyhow, come and join in the discussion about Cristianity and environmentalism. The two aren't mututally exclusive - quite the opposite, in fact - so how can the church, as a body, pick up the ball and run with it?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sarah has posted a wonderful entry on her musings about getting the church, as a corporate body, involved in a more active role of environmental stewardship. She's looking for ideas, so if you've any thoughts on the subject, please stop by and share them. (You must have an account to leave a comment w/ xanga, so if you don't have one, please feel free to leave your thoughts here. Forewarning, though, comments are moderated, and while I don't filter out dissenting voices, I do filter out sheer nastiness.)
I haven't pursued this line of thinking before now - it's a new twist on the idea, though, and so far some good discussion has spring up from it. One of the things I'd love to see (coming from me, not from Sarah, I'm not sure what her thoughts on it are) is how best to bring this issue to the table without making, or creating, a partisan political rally out of it. How best to take the individual into the corporate without creating a sticky wicket of ire from the left and the right. Or if it should be brought into the corporate realm, at all?
Anyhow, come and join in the discussion about Cristianity and environmentalism. The two aren't mututally exclusive - quite the opposite, in fact - so how can the church, as a body, pick up the ball and run with it?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Monday, September 25
Beautiful Mondays
I'm not making anything beautiful, like Laura, or anything useful, like Alaska. I'm sitting here, recuperating from math this morning. Maybe it was the nature walk we took before breakfast, hoodies and baskets at the ready, tapping into their creative side too early... Maybe it was the music playing on the stereo, distracting him from his work... Maybe it's just that he's eight, and this happens. Whatever it was, we determined it's a housekeeping thing, not a knowledge thing. So we broke out the graph paper, took a few deep breaths, and got it worked out. There are word problems still to do, but we both needed a break.
While he worked on his math, the other ones got their math, reading and writing done. They played with puzzles (in another room - I love having more than one room in which to live!) Then they went back outside to plunder the meadow seas with the trusty Pirate Dog, who refused to wear an eye patch, in spite of their most empassioned pleas.
Some days don't seem so hard, even when the hurdles come. We leap them, not always with gazelle-like grace, and sometimes we do land on our tushes, but we leap them nonetheless. I wish I could figure out what causes that and bottle it, or write it down, or have it tattooed on my arm. Something. Because there are other days lurking, where we won't be able to clear the front door threshold. I know this, so I'm going to savor today, which is a hurdle clearing day. :-)
We also found two different berry plants on our walk this morning. We suspect they're choke berry and muscodine, and after a little research to see if they're edible, perhaps we'll have something to make jams and syrups for this winter! (Or, maybe just dyes... we'll see.)
We'll have a late lunch and do our Latin, and then I think we're going to spend the afternoon working outside. It's too beautiful to spend the day indoors, and this is the time of year for preparing for the winter.
What do you enjoy about Mondays in the Fall?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
While he worked on his math, the other ones got their math, reading and writing done. They played with puzzles (in another room - I love having more than one room in which to live!) Then they went back outside to plunder the meadow seas with the trusty Pirate Dog, who refused to wear an eye patch, in spite of their most empassioned pleas.
Some days don't seem so hard, even when the hurdles come. We leap them, not always with gazelle-like grace, and sometimes we do land on our tushes, but we leap them nonetheless. I wish I could figure out what causes that and bottle it, or write it down, or have it tattooed on my arm. Something. Because there are other days lurking, where we won't be able to clear the front door threshold. I know this, so I'm going to savor today, which is a hurdle clearing day. :-)
We also found two different berry plants on our walk this morning. We suspect they're choke berry and muscodine, and after a little research to see if they're edible, perhaps we'll have something to make jams and syrups for this winter! (Or, maybe just dyes... we'll see.)
We'll have a late lunch and do our Latin, and then I think we're going to spend the afternoon working outside. It's too beautiful to spend the day indoors, and this is the time of year for preparing for the winter.
What do you enjoy about Mondays in the Fall?
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, September 24
Goobuhhboon
You know a child is exhausted when it takes nine tries to say, "Goodnight Moon". Smidge was so tired, he couldn't keep his eyes open, and once he finally managed to get the title out, he didn't have the energy to be as enthusiastic as he felt on the inside. But what an effort he put in! I can't believe he stayed awake for the whole story.
Well, James' birthday was celebrated thoroughly today, in full style. This is the first year we haven't had the BBQ and activity d'jour the day of the birthday, and it was a bit weird. But good. Sort of like having a three-day birthday, which probably isn't all that bad if you're the Birthday Boy. However, the friend he wanted to invite is in school this year, so we had to wait for a weekend to do it. It was worth the wait.
The big activity was, for the second year running (and for both boys...) bowling! If we're not careful, we're going to find ourselves wearing matching shirts and carrying little black bags. The boys love it because, well, I don't know why they love it, but they do. We love it because it's a great family activity. The Bigs can bowl and have fun. The Littles can lob the ball and giggle. Then we can all blow a good five minutes watching the ball the Little threw as it inches slowly, slowly toward the pins... By the time it hits something, the small ones have forgotten that it was their shot and they get all excited because "somebody" scored. It's a lot of fun, really. Plus, bowling alleys are not the dark and somewhat seedy places of 20 years back, which helps.
Then it was back to the house for a late supper and some playtime. We've been wanting to have another family from town over, and they were available today, so that worked out well. All told, there were 12 children, and they had a fantastic time. It was very loud. There was a LOT of movement - running, slipping, climbing, hopping... you name it. I think it was a little too loud for one Mom, but she's my Quiet Friend. She's very sweet and gentle and, well, quiet. And her children are relatively quiet, most of the time. It doesn't really matter how quiet your children are, if there are twelve children, it's going to get loud. She handled it graciously, however, and it was nice for Zorak to get to know her husband outside of the usual Sunday morning routine.
The other family is one we've known since March, and they're just delightful. They are loud, and funny, and comfortable to be around. We enjoy them very much. It was a good blend of children, and the adults got along famously, as well. Everyone stayed a bit later than they'd planned, as we got hit with one of those land-based squalls I remember so vividly from last year. Nobody wanted to get out on the road and have a window busted out by a wind-blown squid landing on it. I can appreciate that. Eventually, the rain let up and our company departed around ten-thirty.
It didn't take long to get everyone ready for bed; they were pretty exhausted and more than ready to curl up for some rest. Then it was quiet once again, at which point Zorak and I surveyed the damaged and figured we'd deal with it in the morning.
Eight feels so big, and he seems so big in so many ways. But then, I tell myself, time and again, that he will never again be as little as he is right now. In ten years, eight will feel Very Young, Indeed. So here's to another year to enjoy this child in all his humor and insight, his wisdom and folly, his growing and learning and exploring. This will be a great year for him, I know. And a great year for us, for having him in our lives. Good stuff, that.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Well, James' birthday was celebrated thoroughly today, in full style. This is the first year we haven't had the BBQ and activity d'jour the day of the birthday, and it was a bit weird. But good. Sort of like having a three-day birthday, which probably isn't all that bad if you're the Birthday Boy. However, the friend he wanted to invite is in school this year, so we had to wait for a weekend to do it. It was worth the wait.
The big activity was, for the second year running (and for both boys...) bowling! If we're not careful, we're going to find ourselves wearing matching shirts and carrying little black bags. The boys love it because, well, I don't know why they love it, but they do. We love it because it's a great family activity. The Bigs can bowl and have fun. The Littles can lob the ball and giggle. Then we can all blow a good five minutes watching the ball the Little threw as it inches slowly, slowly toward the pins... By the time it hits something, the small ones have forgotten that it was their shot and they get all excited because "somebody" scored. It's a lot of fun, really. Plus, bowling alleys are not the dark and somewhat seedy places of 20 years back, which helps.
Then it was back to the house for a late supper and some playtime. We've been wanting to have another family from town over, and they were available today, so that worked out well. All told, there were 12 children, and they had a fantastic time. It was very loud. There was a LOT of movement - running, slipping, climbing, hopping... you name it. I think it was a little too loud for one Mom, but she's my Quiet Friend. She's very sweet and gentle and, well, quiet. And her children are relatively quiet, most of the time. It doesn't really matter how quiet your children are, if there are twelve children, it's going to get loud. She handled it graciously, however, and it was nice for Zorak to get to know her husband outside of the usual Sunday morning routine.
The other family is one we've known since March, and they're just delightful. They are loud, and funny, and comfortable to be around. We enjoy them very much. It was a good blend of children, and the adults got along famously, as well. Everyone stayed a bit later than they'd planned, as we got hit with one of those land-based squalls I remember so vividly from last year. Nobody wanted to get out on the road and have a window busted out by a wind-blown squid landing on it. I can appreciate that. Eventually, the rain let up and our company departed around ten-thirty.
It didn't take long to get everyone ready for bed; they were pretty exhausted and more than ready to curl up for some rest. Then it was quiet once again, at which point Zorak and I surveyed the damaged and figured we'd deal with it in the morning.
Eight feels so big, and he seems so big in so many ways. But then, I tell myself, time and again, that he will never again be as little as he is right now. In ten years, eight will feel Very Young, Indeed. So here's to another year to enjoy this child in all his humor and insight, his wisdom and folly, his growing and learning and exploring. This will be a great year for him, I know. And a great year for us, for having him in our lives. Good stuff, that.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Thursday, September 21
Not like this!
So, in all my years of doing odd jobs, learning new skills, and taking on challenging tasks, there has never, ever, as long as I have lived, been any desire on my part to put together a bicycle. Ever. I don't care to know how the brakes adjust. If you really, absolutely must stop now and your brakes don't work because you don't know how to adjust them, run into something. I have scars that attest to the efficiency of this approach.
Even less appealing than maintaining or assembling my own bicycle is the thought of having to put one together for the children. I'm willing to take the responsibility for not giving them food poisoning when I prepare their food. I'm confident in my ability to follow road rules and not rack up moving violations that might endanger them when we get into the car. I am A-OK with being the one solely responsible for their education and general life-skills. But I just don't think it's a good idea for my skills and abilities to be the sole line of defense between them and full-body traction when they're riding their bikes down the steep and rutted driveway (usually, straight into the barn).
So, that said, why is there a partially assembled bicycle in the living room, taunting me?
Well, it started yesterday. James got a new bike for his birthday. We met Zorak in town and let James pick one out from the ones Zorak has narrowed to the A-list. All was warm and fuzzy - happy children, new helmets, new bike for the birthday boy... Everything changed the moment the young man assisting us with our purchase asked, "Do you want this assembled?"
Now, I realize he was probably the one helping us solely because he is the slowest sprinter they have (or the one least proficient at looking Terribly Busy, or just plain hiding from herds of families, as they roam about in search of "help"), but bless him, he stuck with us. He looked in the back for us (and as most of you know, The Back must be a terrifying place, based on most employees' reluctance to go there to look for anything for a customer - that he willingly forged into The Back and found our item meant a lot to me). At this point, I'm willing to cough up Zorak's hard-earned money to let this young man engage the one skill I know he possesses with which he can most definitely run circles around me. This is "a wise use of funds", in my opinion.
But Zorak beat me to it. "No, I'll assemble it," he says. "We just need the box, please."
"What? WHEN are you going to assemble it?"
"Tonight, while the boys are at Pioneer Club."
I stared at him with My Skeptical Look.
"After I run that one wire in the school room."
My Skeptical Look intensified.
"It'll be fine."
For the record, I am still wearing My Skeptical Look.
We arrived home to a fully wired school room, complete with functional switches, tons of working outlets, a visible dearth of outlet cords running here and there, and a bonafide light fixture in the ceiling. It's lovely. I'm writing by the light of that fixture right now. And that is my sole consolation, because as we walked in, Zorak popped open the bike box. That's right, pulled the staples out as we walked in. At nine o'clock at night.
I probably don't need to go into the gory details of the evening that followed. But by the time all the children were scrubbed, jammied, storied and snuggled, we were pretty well shot. Zorak gave it a good go. He really did. The manual is for a different model, so none of the pictures match. And the manual was written by an obstinate second grader, so the written directions make very little sense. And Zorak did have to be out the door this morning well before the neighbor's rooster came to our meadow to challenge Balto for a morning race.
But there's an anxious little boy and a partially assembled bicycle, and I am now faced with having to pick between two incompatible desires: not to ever, ever have to put together a bicycle, and making that little boy smile.
I guess it won't hurt to have another set of skills added to the list.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Even less appealing than maintaining or assembling my own bicycle is the thought of having to put one together for the children. I'm willing to take the responsibility for not giving them food poisoning when I prepare their food. I'm confident in my ability to follow road rules and not rack up moving violations that might endanger them when we get into the car. I am A-OK with being the one solely responsible for their education and general life-skills. But I just don't think it's a good idea for my skills and abilities to be the sole line of defense between them and full-body traction when they're riding their bikes down the steep and rutted driveway (usually, straight into the barn).
So, that said, why is there a partially assembled bicycle in the living room, taunting me?
Well, it started yesterday. James got a new bike for his birthday. We met Zorak in town and let James pick one out from the ones Zorak has narrowed to the A-list. All was warm and fuzzy - happy children, new helmets, new bike for the birthday boy... Everything changed the moment the young man assisting us with our purchase asked, "Do you want this assembled?"
Now, I realize he was probably the one helping us solely because he is the slowest sprinter they have (or the one least proficient at looking Terribly Busy, or just plain hiding from herds of families, as they roam about in search of "help"), but bless him, he stuck with us. He looked in the back for us (and as most of you know, The Back must be a terrifying place, based on most employees' reluctance to go there to look for anything for a customer - that he willingly forged into The Back and found our item meant a lot to me). At this point, I'm willing to cough up Zorak's hard-earned money to let this young man engage the one skill I know he possesses with which he can most definitely run circles around me. This is "a wise use of funds", in my opinion.
But Zorak beat me to it. "No, I'll assemble it," he says. "We just need the box, please."
"What? WHEN are you going to assemble it?"
"Tonight, while the boys are at Pioneer Club."
I stared at him with My Skeptical Look.
"After I run that one wire in the school room."
My Skeptical Look intensified.
"It'll be fine."
For the record, I am still wearing My Skeptical Look.
We arrived home to a fully wired school room, complete with functional switches, tons of working outlets, a visible dearth of outlet cords running here and there, and a bonafide light fixture in the ceiling. It's lovely. I'm writing by the light of that fixture right now. And that is my sole consolation, because as we walked in, Zorak popped open the bike box. That's right, pulled the staples out as we walked in. At nine o'clock at night.
I probably don't need to go into the gory details of the evening that followed. But by the time all the children were scrubbed, jammied, storied and snuggled, we were pretty well shot. Zorak gave it a good go. He really did. The manual is for a different model, so none of the pictures match. And the manual was written by an obstinate second grader, so the written directions make very little sense. And Zorak did have to be out the door this morning well before the neighbor's rooster came to our meadow to challenge Balto for a morning race.
But there's an anxious little boy and a partially assembled bicycle, and I am now faced with having to pick between two incompatible desires: not to ever, ever have to put together a bicycle, and making that little boy smile.
I guess it won't hurt to have another set of skills added to the list.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
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