Ah, well, I promised more books, so here's our Current Reading List. First, though, a little public embarrassment is in order:
The phone rang yesterday. Relentlessly. Finally, out of frustration and a last-ditch attempt to maintain my sense of humor, I answered - in my old, "office manager" voice -
"Graham Central".
The voice on the other end said, "This is the Lex- *giggle* What did you say?"
Oh. Oops.
All I could do was laugh and apologize profusely. "Hi! You have a book for me?"
More laughter from the other end. "Yes, we do. We'll hold it for a week."
Reason #345 that I love our library system: they have such great attitudes there! And they don't hang up on me when I do something goofy.
Me:
That food book, y'all know how that's going.
Dumbing Down: Essays on the Strip-Mining of American Culture - yes, I know, I'm probably the last person on the North American Continent to read this.
Reformation and Society in Sixteenth Century Europe - I'm enjoying it. Zorak picked it up and asked for another book. "They have some really disturbing pictures in that one." (I swear he doesn't read books for the pictures!)
The Christ of the Covenants - good book, slow read. I needed to slow down, and this is good. The footnotes are just as integral to the book as the text itself.
Shut Up and Sing: How Elites from Hollywood, Politics, and the UN are Subverting America - preaching to the choir, but this is my loft. Haven't started it yet. Zorak said it's pretty reactionary, even for us. *hmmm...*
The Gluten-Free Cook Book - the pictures look delicious!
The Boys:
Cam Jansen Mysteries
Jigsaw Jones Mysteries
LarryBoy Adventures
Story of Hanukkah (audio recording- very sweet)
Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle
The Groovy Greeks
James and the Giant Peach (I grabbed the right version this time!)
Jelly Beans For Sale (James picked this one because of a jelly bean recipe in the back...)
Harald Hardrada and the Vikings
Allie, the Christmas Spider
Picture Books:
10 Minutes till Bedtime
Raising Dragons
Who's That Scratching At My Door (picture book- cute)
Dr. De Soto (Spanish)
Read Alouds:
Black Ships Before Troy
The Water Babies
Ten Queens
Miracle: The True Story of the Wreck of the Sea Venture
It's been a fun few days for reading. Our new neighbors stopped by yesterday, too, with a box of books they've culled in their move. What we don't want to keep, we'll pass to the WonderfulNeighbors (a lot of boy-oriented books, so we got first dibs) and the box will make its round. What a pleasant, unexpected surprise!
Kiss those babies!
Snuggle and read, read, read!
~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...
Wednesday, November 10
Tuesday, November 9
She Had Me, Then She Lost Me
Wow. I picked up a book that looked simply delightful last night (in the shadows). Simple Food For The Good Life: A Collection of Random Cooking Practices and Pithy Quotations (Helen Nearing) is filled with delightful quotes from Lucilius (62AD) to Nan Fairbrother (1956), with wit and an open invitation to join around her uncomplicated table...
Until, oh, around the end of Chapter 3, when she lets rip with the bile of the narrowminded and singlularly venemous rhetoric that is, sadly, common among the "raw foods" enthusiasts toward "flesh eaters". (Nothing like being cast as a Beowulf extra at the dinner table, is there?) It's neither convincing nor interesting, but rather the normal fallacies and weak arguments that come of those who have cocooned themselves for way too long and are accustomed to making fine, noisy stump speeches up in the choir loft.
*sigh* What a disappointment. There may well be much worth savoring beyond this PETA-induced frothing at the mouth, but I doubt that anyone who might benefit from it cares to stand there with Ms. Nearing's spittle landing on their noses long enough to find out.
I think I'll keep reading, if only for the wonderful quotes she's dredged up from history, but it's not the pleasant read I had hopes for, and it seems there is far less worth reading than I could have imagined.
Kiss those babies (but for the love of God, don't eat them!)
Dy, The Flesh Eater and Whole Foods Nut
Until, oh, around the end of Chapter 3, when she lets rip with the bile of the narrowminded and singlularly venemous rhetoric that is, sadly, common among the "raw foods" enthusiasts toward "flesh eaters". (Nothing like being cast as a Beowulf extra at the dinner table, is there?) It's neither convincing nor interesting, but rather the normal fallacies and weak arguments that come of those who have cocooned themselves for way too long and are accustomed to making fine, noisy stump speeches up in the choir loft.
*sigh* What a disappointment. There may well be much worth savoring beyond this PETA-induced frothing at the mouth, but I doubt that anyone who might benefit from it cares to stand there with Ms. Nearing's spittle landing on their noses long enough to find out.
I think I'll keep reading, if only for the wonderful quotes she's dredged up from history, but it's not the pleasant read I had hopes for, and it seems there is far less worth reading than I could have imagined.
Kiss those babies (but for the love of God, don't eat them!)
Dy, The Flesh Eater and Whole Foods Nut
Monday, November 8
Big Day for the Zorak Clan
So much today! Goodness.
We began by getting nominal lessons done first thing this morning: math, reading/phonics, spelling, Latin. Ta-da! All done by ten. *whew*
Time for Spring cleaning. (Yes, I do it in the fall- it's part of my tendency to procrastinate.) The boys did the windows and the baseboards. They did a thoroughly enthusiastic job! Then they asked to read while I cleaned the carpets. They read for most of the time it took the carpet to dry. Scoured and rearranged the kitchen. Contemplated ditching the microwave, but decided to just relocate it perhaps. Love the new look!
Jacob tried something new! When Zorak came home, an excited and happy Jacob did his usual tremble and squeak, but rather than plopping down for his marathon tortoise crawl, he walked to Zorak and wrapped his happy little arms around Zorak's legs. I don't know exactly who was more thrilled with this development, but it was pure joy.
Then I - alone, by myself, without even the cell phone - went to the library. Returned books, checked out books, uttered a wretched screech when I realized our library does not have a copy of the third Aubrey-Maturin book (!!), reserved a few books, and then roamed somewhat aimlessly around the adult side of the library. Ran into a lady from church over in the 270's (go figure). She was also without her children. Homeschooling moms at the library without their children have a very, erm, special look to them. I imagine it's the same look I had once my junior year, the day I was spied by the principal while I was skipping English... to study for math class... it's not like you're going to get in trouble, but it feels so terribly decadent.
Returned home to the delighted squeals of the boys. Jacob shouting, "Mom-Mom", wriggling from his chair to give me nuggles; John frolicking in circles around me singing "Oh, thank you!" when I told him I brought not one, but two dinosaur books; James leaping from place to place, the veins in his head popping as I pulled several mysteries and The Complete Curious George, Anniversary Edition from the backpack. They cleared their spots and bolted to the living room, sprawled out with their new treasures, talking happily together.
Man, I enjoy our life.
I'm going to refresh my cup and go curl up with a neat little book I found while rifling through the shelves (sometimes that is just the best way to peruse the library). I'll fill y'all in on what I'm reading sometime this week- lots of neat stuff! And tomorrow morning, I'll be able to catch up on reading! I haven't quit, just haven't had much time and I can't get one eye to read a book while the other eye reads blogs. (So much for multi-tasking, eh?)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
We began by getting nominal lessons done first thing this morning: math, reading/phonics, spelling, Latin. Ta-da! All done by ten. *whew*
Time for Spring cleaning. (Yes, I do it in the fall- it's part of my tendency to procrastinate.) The boys did the windows and the baseboards. They did a thoroughly enthusiastic job! Then they asked to read while I cleaned the carpets. They read for most of the time it took the carpet to dry. Scoured and rearranged the kitchen. Contemplated ditching the microwave, but decided to just relocate it perhaps. Love the new look!
Jacob tried something new! When Zorak came home, an excited and happy Jacob did his usual tremble and squeak, but rather than plopping down for his marathon tortoise crawl, he walked to Zorak and wrapped his happy little arms around Zorak's legs. I don't know exactly who was more thrilled with this development, but it was pure joy.
Then I - alone, by myself, without even the cell phone - went to the library. Returned books, checked out books, uttered a wretched screech when I realized our library does not have a copy of the third Aubrey-Maturin book (!!), reserved a few books, and then roamed somewhat aimlessly around the adult side of the library. Ran into a lady from church over in the 270's (go figure). She was also without her children. Homeschooling moms at the library without their children have a very, erm, special look to them. I imagine it's the same look I had once my junior year, the day I was spied by the principal while I was skipping English... to study for math class... it's not like you're going to get in trouble, but it feels so terribly decadent.
Returned home to the delighted squeals of the boys. Jacob shouting, "Mom-Mom", wriggling from his chair to give me nuggles; John frolicking in circles around me singing "Oh, thank you!" when I told him I brought not one, but two dinosaur books; James leaping from place to place, the veins in his head popping as I pulled several mysteries and The Complete Curious George, Anniversary Edition from the backpack. They cleared their spots and bolted to the living room, sprawled out with their new treasures, talking happily together.
Man, I enjoy our life.
I'm going to refresh my cup and go curl up with a neat little book I found while rifling through the shelves (sometimes that is just the best way to peruse the library). I'll fill y'all in on what I'm reading sometime this week- lots of neat stuff! And tomorrow morning, I'll be able to catch up on reading! I haven't quit, just haven't had much time and I can't get one eye to read a book while the other eye reads blogs. (So much for multi-tasking, eh?)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, November 7
Shorter Days
Each day has 24 hours, it's true. Winter days don't give me quite enough daylight, though, and it's so much more enticing to stay in bed with a hot cup of coffee and a few good books. Ah, but for the lower temperatures and the hope of snow, I won't complain. I just need to tighten up my routine a bit to make sure the house doesn't up and run away with us.
The boys had KinderChoir tonight. Jacob was sleeping (teething and growth spurt- argh!) so Zorak took them. He came home beaming and he'd bought some soda to go with supper! Hmmm, wonder what happened? It turned out that at one point James had "the leaf" (they use it for a rhythm game), so it was his turn to be in the circle and lead the rhythm. He did well, and was to choose the next child to lead. There are several who beg and scream to go next every week, leaping from the circle and getting quite vocal, and they're usually chosen, while John just sits there, hoping against hope to be chosen (he never is, even from the director), then generally winding up near tears by the end of the session and the repeated disappointments. Well, not this time, James let John have a turn. John was on cloud nine! James was happy to see his brother happy. Zorak was ready to explode with love and admiration for both boys.
Today we did the piddly repairs that keep a home safe: the assassin towel rack that keeps leaping at our bare toes as we step from the bathroom has been replaced with a more loyal, less aggressive rack; a new toilet seat for the boys' bath has been installed so they are no longer in danger of sliding off into the tub on the single-hinged pivoting seat; nicer towel hooks for their bath were hung in lieu of the dangerous head-piercing screws the previous tenant installed. Yes, it was thoroughly utilitarian work today, but felt very good in the end.
Ah, time to coax the cranky youngin' to bed. He's so tired, but so uncomfortable. Today he walked around the house, shaking a bottle of Hyland's Teething Tablets, jabbering away at each of us in turn, trying to get someone to just OPEN THE BOTTLE. Nobody took the bait, but he was so earnest in his pursuit, it was hilarious.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The boys had KinderChoir tonight. Jacob was sleeping (teething and growth spurt- argh!) so Zorak took them. He came home beaming and he'd bought some soda to go with supper! Hmmm, wonder what happened? It turned out that at one point James had "the leaf" (they use it for a rhythm game), so it was his turn to be in the circle and lead the rhythm. He did well, and was to choose the next child to lead. There are several who beg and scream to go next every week, leaping from the circle and getting quite vocal, and they're usually chosen, while John just sits there, hoping against hope to be chosen (he never is, even from the director), then generally winding up near tears by the end of the session and the repeated disappointments. Well, not this time, James let John have a turn. John was on cloud nine! James was happy to see his brother happy. Zorak was ready to explode with love and admiration for both boys.
Today we did the piddly repairs that keep a home safe: the assassin towel rack that keeps leaping at our bare toes as we step from the bathroom has been replaced with a more loyal, less aggressive rack; a new toilet seat for the boys' bath has been installed so they are no longer in danger of sliding off into the tub on the single-hinged pivoting seat; nicer towel hooks for their bath were hung in lieu of the dangerous head-piercing screws the previous tenant installed. Yes, it was thoroughly utilitarian work today, but felt very good in the end.
Ah, time to coax the cranky youngin' to bed. He's so tired, but so uncomfortable. Today he walked around the house, shaking a bottle of Hyland's Teething Tablets, jabbering away at each of us in turn, trying to get someone to just OPEN THE BOTTLE. Nobody took the bait, but he was so earnest in his pursuit, it was hilarious.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Saturday, November 6
Weird.
Wow, good sports! The answers to yesterday's pop quiz are... (drum roll, please)
1) B or C: we think it was the parmesan cheese, but it could have been the rice. There were bodies in both and the two specimen were side by side. *shudder*
2) F: Good Call! Yes, I bleached the counter, cabinets, walls, floor, and the sink. The tray sat in straight bleach overnight. Before we divested the tray of its contents, however, we did pluck a few critters and laid them out. James drew them and identified the parts 'n pieces. Great drawing.
As an aside, today I found the tweezers we'd used on the critters had not, in fact, been set in the bleach water, but rather nestled into the Silly Putty. We are now one silly putty egg short. *blech*
****
On a totally unrelated and irreverent note...
Have y'all been following Yassir Arafat's health situation? He's been in a coma... or has he???
I don't know, it may just be me, but I burst into a Monty Python skit when I read this. "This parrot is deceased... He's shuffled off his mortal coil!"
"No he's not. He's sleeping."
Or in this case, "He's not in a coma! He's sleeping!"
Yeah. Weird.
****
And evidently I'm far, far out of the loop. I'm actually glad to hear this, because this little tidbit is just nasty. I mean, when we were growing up, getting brained meant someone got the living snot beat out of them, particularly about the head. Not anymore, evidently. Oy.
Some clothing line (not gonna put the name out there- go read the article, though) used the newly coined slang term brain (meaning, well, oh for pete's sake- my grandmother could be reading this! Go read the article, but it's not a PG topic), evidently "intending the double-entendre", but not being wholly forthright with transportation authorities about the tone of the ads until one sly septagenarian dog figured it out. (OK, I'm kidding. He was tipped off.)
*Zorak adds: Wow, that's even too stupid for Beavis and Butthead! "He, he, you said 'brain'."*
****
Today we made ships! A viking ship, and a little square ship... thing. They look very cool. They're made of wood and have the cutest little masts! We'll shellac them tonight and the boys can float 'em tomorrow after church.
We also finally assembled, routed, stained and otherwise finished the stepstool we bought at IKEA (yeah, yeah, months ago, we know).
OK, I should, in all fairness, rephrase that. ZORAK AND THE BOYS did all those wonderful projects. I did wrestle with the boys, make flags, make plans for sails, and do plenty of laundry. I also sat on my duff and read Post Captain, which is book two. It's been a day of me muttering from the depths of the pages,
I hope your Saturday was thoroughly enjoyable!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
1) B or C: we think it was the parmesan cheese, but it could have been the rice. There were bodies in both and the two specimen were side by side. *shudder*
2) F: Good Call! Yes, I bleached the counter, cabinets, walls, floor, and the sink. The tray sat in straight bleach overnight. Before we divested the tray of its contents, however, we did pluck a few critters and laid them out. James drew them and identified the parts 'n pieces. Great drawing.
As an aside, today I found the tweezers we'd used on the critters had not, in fact, been set in the bleach water, but rather nestled into the Silly Putty. We are now one silly putty egg short. *blech*
****
On a totally unrelated and irreverent note...
Have y'all been following Yassir Arafat's health situation? He's been in a coma... or has he???
I don't know, it may just be me, but I burst into a Monty Python skit when I read this. "This parrot is deceased... He's shuffled off his mortal coil!"
"No he's not. He's sleeping."
Or in this case, "He's not in a coma! He's sleeping!"
Yeah. Weird.
****
And evidently I'm far, far out of the loop. I'm actually glad to hear this, because this little tidbit is just nasty. I mean, when we were growing up, getting brained meant someone got the living snot beat out of them, particularly about the head. Not anymore, evidently. Oy.
Some clothing line (not gonna put the name out there- go read the article, though) used the newly coined slang term brain (meaning, well, oh for pete's sake- my grandmother could be reading this! Go read the article, but it's not a PG topic), evidently "intending the double-entendre", but not being wholly forthright with transportation authorities about the tone of the ads until one sly septagenarian dog figured it out. (OK, I'm kidding. He was tipped off.)
*Zorak adds: Wow, that's even too stupid for Beavis and Butthead! "He, he, you said 'brain'."*
****
Today we made ships! A viking ship, and a little square ship... thing. They look very cool. They're made of wood and have the cutest little masts! We'll shellac them tonight and the boys can float 'em tomorrow after church.
We also finally assembled, routed, stained and otherwise finished the stepstool we bought at IKEA (yeah, yeah, months ago, we know).
OK, I should, in all fairness, rephrase that. ZORAK AND THE BOYS did all those wonderful projects. I did wrestle with the boys, make flags, make plans for sails, and do plenty of laundry. I also sat on my duff and read Post Captain, which is book two. It's been a day of me muttering from the depths of the pages,
*gasp* NO! Oh dear. They DIDN'T! They DID! *hoot, holler, guffaw* I SO didn't see that coming! Ohhhh, or that! And, oh... NO, no, no, no. Ooo! Wow.I appreciated the break, and enjoyed watching Zorak with our offspring. It's been a good day.
I hope your Saturday was thoroughly enjoyable!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, November 5
POP QUIZ!
Enough with the larvae!!! Can I just cry Uncle now?
So, last month (on the 6th, to be precise- thankfully we've learned to date our experiments) we did a project on water solubility. We used a nifty fishing tackle style box made of clear plastic, which is ideal for these type of control experiments: several sectioned containers to keep each sample separate, can view the results without actually opening anything, and if it gets dropped it doesn't shatter or spew! Wee. Experiment was fun, fascinating, and we all learned a lot.
Well, it seems that if you're the scatterbrained mommy I am, the learning never stops. So, it's pop quiz time!
Now, for bonus points,
Check tomorrow for the answers!
James found a climbing vine today in the woods. He picked some and brought it to me. Once I made sure nobody was itchy or breaking out in a rash, I let them put it in water and we'll see if it takes root. (I know, some people just never seem to learn...)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
So, last month (on the 6th, to be precise- thankfully we've learned to date our experiments) we did a project on water solubility. We used a nifty fishing tackle style box made of clear plastic, which is ideal for these type of control experiments: several sectioned containers to keep each sample separate, can view the results without actually opening anything, and if it gets dropped it doesn't shatter or spew! Wee. Experiment was fun, fascinating, and we all learned a lot.
Well, it seems that if you're the scatterbrained mommy I am, the learning never stops. So, it's pop quiz time!
Of the following items, which do you think would be most likely to spawn some kind of insect if left unattended, in water, for, oh a month or so:
A) Xanthan Gum
B) Parmesan cheese
C) Rice
D) Flour
E) Rainbow sprinkles
F) Veggie Stix
Now, for bonus points,
which of the following actions do you think Mama took upon finding this experiment this evening:
A) Found the trash can- and quick!
B) Bleached everything within a ten foot radius, even though the container was sealed
C) Plucked one unfortunate creature out for the kids to examine and draw
D) Asked Zorak to do HAZMAT duty
E) A and D
F) B and C
Check tomorrow for the answers!
James found a climbing vine today in the woods. He picked some and brought it to me. Once I made sure nobody was itchy or breaking out in a rash, I let them put it in water and we'll see if it takes root. (I know, some people just never seem to learn...)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
The calm before the storm
I'm sorry I've been rather quiet the past couple of days. Not much inspiration, truthfully, and no store of wit to substitute for it, either. After the election and - not having any television reception at all - sitting here, with several windows open, hitting "refresh" well into the wee hours of the nights... I think I'm a bit burnt out on the computer, as well.
All is fairly well here. Zorak is at work. He was going in "for a couple of hours" this morning, to which I just smiled. I told him we'd see him tonight and winked at him. He protested. It's after one now, and he just called to let me know he might be home by five. (Ever the optimist!) He's working doubly hard to make sure he has his ducks in a row before the Holidays are upon us. Of course, his ducks are always in a row- he's a natural duck-herder, to be honest. He's good at what he does, and he enjoys it. I love that about him.
He's chomping at the bit to visit the family over Christmas, and I hope that at some point during the season we can go. It would be so nice, not just for the boys and for Zorak, but for me, as well. There are so many people in both Arizona and New Mexico who we just want to hug and hold on to for a bit, to hear their voices in person rather than digitally reconstructed over the airwaves. (I'm definitely not complaining about phones- without them, we'd not hear their wonderful voices at all.) Some members of our family have been hospitalized this past week, on both sides of the family (mine and Zorak's), and we worry. We want to be there to offer comfort or help with food and cleaning... it's hard not to be there, to be able to help. We will be so thankful to be out there again.
The boys are good- as good as good. Happy. James is creating bizarre things from silly putty. John is floating miscellaneous toys in the sink upstairs. Jacob is out cold in bed. It's a lovely day and as soon as Jacob wakes, we'll head out front to play for a bit.
Been antsy lately- not sure why. Anyhow, I think it's just the calm before the hectic rush of the holidays, winter, travel, and time. Perhaps. I ought to go make good use of this time!
Have a blessed day, and kiss those babies!
~Dy
All is fairly well here. Zorak is at work. He was going in "for a couple of hours" this morning, to which I just smiled. I told him we'd see him tonight and winked at him. He protested. It's after one now, and he just called to let me know he might be home by five. (Ever the optimist!) He's working doubly hard to make sure he has his ducks in a row before the Holidays are upon us. Of course, his ducks are always in a row- he's a natural duck-herder, to be honest. He's good at what he does, and he enjoys it. I love that about him.
He's chomping at the bit to visit the family over Christmas, and I hope that at some point during the season we can go. It would be so nice, not just for the boys and for Zorak, but for me, as well. There are so many people in both Arizona and New Mexico who we just want to hug and hold on to for a bit, to hear their voices in person rather than digitally reconstructed over the airwaves. (I'm definitely not complaining about phones- without them, we'd not hear their wonderful voices at all.) Some members of our family have been hospitalized this past week, on both sides of the family (mine and Zorak's), and we worry. We want to be there to offer comfort or help with food and cleaning... it's hard not to be there, to be able to help. We will be so thankful to be out there again.
The boys are good- as good as good. Happy. James is creating bizarre things from silly putty. John is floating miscellaneous toys in the sink upstairs. Jacob is out cold in bed. It's a lovely day and as soon as Jacob wakes, we'll head out front to play for a bit.
Been antsy lately- not sure why. Anyhow, I think it's just the calm before the hectic rush of the holidays, winter, travel, and time. Perhaps. I ought to go make good use of this time!
Have a blessed day, and kiss those babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, November 3
Another Day
Tonight is calm here.
Jacob walks in circles, waves his hands in the air, happy to be more mobile and better able to keep up with his brothers.
John reads at the supper table. He has a thoroughly-waxed paper ship afloat in the downstairs bathroom sink. She's his pride and joy and he enjoys saying, "Ship-shape" and "Top form!"
James spends hours reading about blood grouping and incompatibilities. He draws a consolation card for our neighbor, who lost her father over the weekend.
Zorak is in "Chinese Fire Drill" mode with a project at work, so he comes home tired, but happy. We eat roast with onions and carrots in au jus, mashed potatoes and green beans- good food for the soul.
I'm tired tonight. Weary. Thankful.
Need to start writing, too.
The boys are down. Zorak is heading up for the night.
I have wash to do, a book to read, and then, to bed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Jacob walks in circles, waves his hands in the air, happy to be more mobile and better able to keep up with his brothers.
John reads at the supper table. He has a thoroughly-waxed paper ship afloat in the downstairs bathroom sink. She's his pride and joy and he enjoys saying, "Ship-shape" and "Top form!"
James spends hours reading about blood grouping and incompatibilities. He draws a consolation card for our neighbor, who lost her father over the weekend.
Zorak is in "Chinese Fire Drill" mode with a project at work, so he comes home tired, but happy. We eat roast with onions and carrots in au jus, mashed potatoes and green beans- good food for the soul.
I'm tired tonight. Weary. Thankful.
Need to start writing, too.
The boys are down. Zorak is heading up for the night.
I have wash to do, a book to read, and then, to bed.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Election Night Blog
Elections are not nearly as draining from the West Coast, as you just don't have to stay up quite so late...
It's been a l-o-n-g night on the East Coast, however.
It's 2:21AM.
Nothing has changed in over an hour.
I'm going to go kiss my sleeping babies and try to get some rest.
~Dy
It's been a l-o-n-g night on the East Coast, however.
It's 2:21AM.
Nothing has changed in over an hour.
I'm going to go kiss my sleeping babies and try to get some rest.
~Dy
Monday, November 1
More Wonderful Neighbors!
Today was the first day I've felt the groove. James started Gamma today, and is thrilled. Of course, it's the same material we've covered in the last portion of Foundations, but this is the "new book", and somehow that's pretty special. John is eating up Primer and loves, loves, loves it.
After math, it was on to art, reading, history. Narrations.
Lunch with Zorak, and then off to run errands. I had to replace my base ID *sigh*. I've no idea where I lost the last one. The ladies in the Pass office were just as wonderful as they always are when we pop in- friendly, engaging, helpful. That's a great crew they have working there. Two of the gals got a chuckle when James told them, "I have Indian in me!" They chuckled and said, "Of course you do." Granted, he doesn't look the part, but it's true. They did believe him after he explained the lineage. What warmed my heart no end was how well he handled the situation. He didn't get frustrated or angry, he didn't take it personally. He just clarified his stance with a great big smile. He's growing up so well.
We did Latin and Bible in the car.
On to inquire with the landlords about the mystery guy who called about servicing the heating system. He was to show the following Monday or Tuesday and we never heard a word. This was nearly a month ago. She said that yes, he was contracted, but was to have done all their units before the end of October- and so far he has done only one. *whew* Well, on the upside, I'm glad to hear he'll still be coming!
Went to Michael's and bought two balls of yarn to finish Gram's blanket, and then took the boys to the park to play for a bit. The weather was gorgeous, and it was a wonderful time. John and I sat side-by-side at the swings, holding hands while we swayed gently. We talked about being four and what a wonderful job of it he's doing. He said it's not so bad sometimes, and sometimes he loves it, but on occasion it's very difficult to be four. Yeah, I understand, kiddo.
We got home shortly before Zorak, did some reading and a little writing, had supper by candle light, and then got w/ the Wonderful Neighbors to do the "Welcome Wagon" thing.
We decided to continue the tradition that sparked our friendship with the Wonderful Neighbors. After supper we rounded up the kids and took cookies and "Welcome to the Neighborhood" cards over. New Neighbors have four children, and are just delightful, particularly considering the awkward uncertainty of having a passle of strangers (five children and two adults) arrive on your doorstep the first night in a new house. I remember how terribly inarticulate I felt that night - the doorbell rang and my first thought was, "Did one of the boys get out?!?!?" My second thought was, "Nobody knows we're here!" I almost didn't answer the door. Sure am glad I did, though! Oh, and an interesting part of all this is that evidently our little corner of the complex is becoming a homeschool haven! Yep, New Neighbor homeschools her four youngin's!
That's about it. I'm off to enjoy some blog reading and then to crochet my heart out while Zorak watches a scary movie. *cringe* If I crochet when it gets scary, I get an incredible amount done. (Probably because just about everything in those movies scares me...)
Have a lovely Tuesday! Here's to the groove, may it last a good, long while.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
After math, it was on to art, reading, history. Narrations.
Lunch with Zorak, and then off to run errands. I had to replace my base ID *sigh*. I've no idea where I lost the last one. The ladies in the Pass office were just as wonderful as they always are when we pop in- friendly, engaging, helpful. That's a great crew they have working there. Two of the gals got a chuckle when James told them, "I have Indian in me!" They chuckled and said, "Of course you do." Granted, he doesn't look the part, but it's true. They did believe him after he explained the lineage. What warmed my heart no end was how well he handled the situation. He didn't get frustrated or angry, he didn't take it personally. He just clarified his stance with a great big smile. He's growing up so well.
We did Latin and Bible in the car.
On to inquire with the landlords about the mystery guy who called about servicing the heating system. He was to show the following Monday or Tuesday and we never heard a word. This was nearly a month ago. She said that yes, he was contracted, but was to have done all their units before the end of October- and so far he has done only one. *whew* Well, on the upside, I'm glad to hear he'll still be coming!
Went to Michael's and bought two balls of yarn to finish Gram's blanket, and then took the boys to the park to play for a bit. The weather was gorgeous, and it was a wonderful time. John and I sat side-by-side at the swings, holding hands while we swayed gently. We talked about being four and what a wonderful job of it he's doing. He said it's not so bad sometimes, and sometimes he loves it, but on occasion it's very difficult to be four. Yeah, I understand, kiddo.
We got home shortly before Zorak, did some reading and a little writing, had supper by candle light, and then got w/ the Wonderful Neighbors to do the "Welcome Wagon" thing.
We decided to continue the tradition that sparked our friendship with the Wonderful Neighbors. After supper we rounded up the kids and took cookies and "Welcome to the Neighborhood" cards over. New Neighbors have four children, and are just delightful, particularly considering the awkward uncertainty of having a passle of strangers (five children and two adults) arrive on your doorstep the first night in a new house. I remember how terribly inarticulate I felt that night - the doorbell rang and my first thought was, "Did one of the boys get out?!?!?" My second thought was, "Nobody knows we're here!" I almost didn't answer the door. Sure am glad I did, though! Oh, and an interesting part of all this is that evidently our little corner of the complex is becoming a homeschool haven! Yep, New Neighbor homeschools her four youngin's!
That's about it. I'm off to enjoy some blog reading and then to crochet my heart out while Zorak watches a scary movie. *cringe* If I crochet when it gets scary, I get an incredible amount done. (Probably because just about everything in those movies scares me...)
Have a lovely Tuesday! Here's to the groove, may it last a good, long while.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sunday, October 31
I'm going to collapse into a pot of coffee and HIDE!
I suppose it's time for Auntie Dy's Halloween Costume Tips. Last year, Auntie Dy focused on the absolute absurdity of the Occasional Seamstress (being one who only sews occasionally, and not quite well, at that) having the lack of foresight, or sense, to think that modification of a costume is "easy".
This year, Auntie Dy wants a stiff drink and a funny movie. This year's tip has more to do with motivation than with technique.
It is six o'clock, and she has just finished stapling (yes, stapling) the velcro onto her middle child's "meat-eating dinosaur" costume. (Of course it's modified... it was a cute playful fleece dragon pattern, according to the cover. Well, now it's made of lizard pleather, and it's a big-scary-meat-eater). Zorak The Costumeless One (I did offer to make him a great billowy pirate shirt and tight britches, but he thought that was just a little weird... probably something to do with the accent I used or the gleam in my eye) is now out with The Doctor (didn't have time to write "NMD" on his little scrubs, but we think of him that way), and The Dalmation (gotta really appreciate friends whose children are just a year's size older than yours!) and The Freshly Minted Dinosaur, canvassing the neighborhood, searching for goodies.
As I came flying down the hall wearing a pleather helmet with overstuffed spikes flowing down the back, carrying extra velcro in my teeth and bearing a limp dinosaur with one humongous tail protruding from the side, I swore under my breath that this is the last year I will ever make costumes! Ever! As I kicked the appallingly determined scraps of fleece which clung to my foot and removed a strip of velcro from one of the helmet spikes (a strip of velcro I'd spent a good twenty minutes trying to find), I was thinking that I would rather undergo liposuction that do this again.
I'm not organized enough! I'm not talented enough! The meat-eating dinosaur looks like a very good example of mid-extinction dinosaurs. If it were a fossil, archaeologists would be plotting one another's untimely deaths to get their lab tests on this thing. I'm not a seamstress! This isn't "my thing"!
Then John put it on.
He spun around and looked it over.
He took my face in his hands.
He kissed my nose
and told me that this is the best costume in the whole wide world.
Yup.
I wonder what we'll make next year?
Happy Halloween, all! Kiss those babies!
~Dy
This year, Auntie Dy wants a stiff drink and a funny movie. This year's tip has more to do with motivation than with technique.
It is six o'clock, and she has just finished stapling (yes, stapling) the velcro onto her middle child's "meat-eating dinosaur" costume. (Of course it's modified... it was a cute playful fleece dragon pattern, according to the cover. Well, now it's made of lizard pleather, and it's a big-scary-meat-eater). Zorak The Costumeless One (I did offer to make him a great billowy pirate shirt and tight britches, but he thought that was just a little weird... probably something to do with the accent I used or the gleam in my eye) is now out with The Doctor (didn't have time to write "NMD" on his little scrubs, but we think of him that way), and The Dalmation (gotta really appreciate friends whose children are just a year's size older than yours!) and The Freshly Minted Dinosaur, canvassing the neighborhood, searching for goodies.
As I came flying down the hall wearing a pleather helmet with overstuffed spikes flowing down the back, carrying extra velcro in my teeth and bearing a limp dinosaur with one humongous tail protruding from the side, I swore under my breath that this is the last year I will ever make costumes! Ever! As I kicked the appallingly determined scraps of fleece which clung to my foot and removed a strip of velcro from one of the helmet spikes (a strip of velcro I'd spent a good twenty minutes trying to find), I was thinking that I would rather undergo liposuction that do this again.
I'm not organized enough! I'm not talented enough! The meat-eating dinosaur looks like a very good example of mid-extinction dinosaurs. If it were a fossil, archaeologists would be plotting one another's untimely deaths to get their lab tests on this thing. I'm not a seamstress! This isn't "my thing"!
Then John put it on.
He spun around and looked it over.
He took my face in his hands.
He kissed my nose
and told me that this is the best costume in the whole wide world.
Yup.
I wonder what we'll make next year?
Happy Halloween, all! Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Friday, October 29
A Quiet Day of Preparation
Our beloved Zorak will return this evening; exhausted, I'm sure from a week away. We've had a nice morning thus far of preparations: tidying, wash, and freshly made muffins (using spelt flour, which, for the record, doesn't rise as well as I anticipated and I didn't think to use honey, hmmm- they did taste quite good, though), and we are now settling down for some enjoyable reading time and a light lunch in a bit.
Off to discover a good recipe for supper. We're frighteningly low on meats at the moment, and Zorak would think we didn't want him home if I were to prepare a meatless meal for his return! So, the ads are in the paper and if we can find something that sounds scrumptious, we'll be off to the market for supplies and home to create a warm, inviting smell to greet him at the door- along with the delighted squeals and toppling hugs of three happy children.
Probably no blogging tonight, but I hope you'll understand.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Off to discover a good recipe for supper. We're frighteningly low on meats at the moment, and Zorak would think we didn't want him home if I were to prepare a meatless meal for his return! So, the ads are in the paper and if we can find something that sounds scrumptious, we'll be off to the market for supplies and home to create a warm, inviting smell to greet him at the door- along with the delighted squeals and toppling hugs of three happy children.
Probably no blogging tonight, but I hope you'll understand.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Books, books and more books!
As y'all know, I've been enjoying my first encounter with O'Brian's nautical historical fiction. One element of his writing that has left me simply slack-jawed with admiration is the skill with which he introduces conflict into the storyline. It's subtle, and while you can look back and say, "Oh, of course," you cannot do that mid-read. Nope, just sneaks up on you, much the way conflict does in true life, as well. I am only on the first book, Master and Commander, but even so, his characters are so well-developed and I am enjoying getting to know them.
I have, in sheer self-defense, had to incorporate reading Chapman's Piloting & Seamanship to my pile. All those nautical terms! Why did I start this book the week Zorak was gone? Not one of my better plans.
Christ of the Covenants- it's spooled up in the queue. I'm looking forward to reading it.
The boys are reading some neat books, too. If I have time tonight I'll put them in the sidebar (where they will sit for months like that, even though we will have rotated books out many times over... it's a false hope to think I will maintain the sidebar like that.)
Kim mentioned The Five Love Languages the other day on her blog. It got me thinking and pondering. James is such a quality time kinda kid. This week has been hard on him, really, and it hit me today that a big part of that may be the lack of quality time, of any reasonably decent one on one time. So, after a very long and trying day (but with its good points, definite good points!) I let him stay up late, after the other two were asleep. He and I snuggled in the bed under the soft flannels and the comfy sheet and read stories he picked. We read Owl at Home (Lobel) and a few chapters of The Bears on Hemlock Mountain (Dalgliesh). We spent an hour together and talked about more than just the stories. We talked about imagination and writing stories, about lineages and legacies, about family and love. He snuggled in and let out a dreamy sigh, more relaxed than he's sounded all week. "What's on your mind, buddy-bear?" I asked. He said, "Just you. I really love you." *sigh* "I love you, too, sweetheart. I love you, too."
I am anxious to recalibrate our schedule to allot for more intentional time with each boy. This is something I have always promoted, but sometimes forget to do myself. Well, it's not about temporary fixes or schedules, it's about life. This is it, the big engagement! It is who we are and what we do, and in the end, these are the things they will remember. It's actually easier to maneuver with the four of us, as that dynamic is very well-developed and fluid. We do well as a group. The individual time, however, requires making other arrangements and setting that time aside. I think I just got lazy, but that's still no excuse. That's not what I want to be telling them when they are adults, "Oh, yes, I loved and cherished each of you so much... but didn't make the extra time to spend with you individually." No. That will not be happening. So, now that I see where I've dropped the ball, I am anxious to pick it up and continue on enjoying the boys- all together, and individually. :-)
Well, on that note, it's just a little after midnight... I'm going to hit the hay "early" tonight and enjoy some one on one time with a good book, too!
Kiss those babies, one at a time and all together!
~Dy
I have, in sheer self-defense, had to incorporate reading Chapman's Piloting & Seamanship to my pile. All those nautical terms! Why did I start this book the week Zorak was gone? Not one of my better plans.
Christ of the Covenants- it's spooled up in the queue. I'm looking forward to reading it.
The boys are reading some neat books, too. If I have time tonight I'll put them in the sidebar (where they will sit for months like that, even though we will have rotated books out many times over... it's a false hope to think I will maintain the sidebar like that.)
Kim mentioned The Five Love Languages the other day on her blog. It got me thinking and pondering. James is such a quality time kinda kid. This week has been hard on him, really, and it hit me today that a big part of that may be the lack of quality time, of any reasonably decent one on one time. So, after a very long and trying day (but with its good points, definite good points!) I let him stay up late, after the other two were asleep. He and I snuggled in the bed under the soft flannels and the comfy sheet and read stories he picked. We read Owl at Home (Lobel) and a few chapters of The Bears on Hemlock Mountain (Dalgliesh). We spent an hour together and talked about more than just the stories. We talked about imagination and writing stories, about lineages and legacies, about family and love. He snuggled in and let out a dreamy sigh, more relaxed than he's sounded all week. "What's on your mind, buddy-bear?" I asked. He said, "Just you. I really love you." *sigh* "I love you, too, sweetheart. I love you, too."
I am anxious to recalibrate our schedule to allot for more intentional time with each boy. This is something I have always promoted, but sometimes forget to do myself. Well, it's not about temporary fixes or schedules, it's about life. This is it, the big engagement! It is who we are and what we do, and in the end, these are the things they will remember. It's actually easier to maneuver with the four of us, as that dynamic is very well-developed and fluid. We do well as a group. The individual time, however, requires making other arrangements and setting that time aside. I think I just got lazy, but that's still no excuse. That's not what I want to be telling them when they are adults, "Oh, yes, I loved and cherished each of you so much... but didn't make the extra time to spend with you individually." No. That will not be happening. So, now that I see where I've dropped the ball, I am anxious to pick it up and continue on enjoying the boys- all together, and individually. :-)
Well, on that note, it's just a little after midnight... I'm going to hit the hay "early" tonight and enjoy some one on one time with a good book, too!
Kiss those babies, one at a time and all together!
~Dy
Wednesday, October 27
Little Bit O' Everything
First, Jess needs prayers for her 3yo son, Craig. The poor little guy isn't healing properly from his surgery. Tonight the doctor said if he started bleeding again he'd call him in for surgery. Sure enough, Geo no sooner got little Craig home than it started up again. She called me on the way out the door and we prayed. I'd like to ask the rest of you to join in prayer for Craig tonight.
On to less pressing matters, then.
We just returned from viewing the eclipse through a telescope over at the Wonderful Neighbors' place. Wow, oh wow. John thought the moon was emptying out, certain that it wouldn't fill back up. The thought that the moon may be dimmed permanently didn't seem to bother him at all, though. James has a better grasp of what's going on, and WonderfulNeighbor Husband is just the best with the kids. He took the time to explain the rarity of a total lunar eclipse, and answered the zillion and one related questions (and, being that they're only four and six, they also had a zillion and one unrelated questions, which he fielded as well.) James decided the first person to see the full eclipse through the telescope should be nicknamed "Eclipse" (for however long these things last when you're six). We (kinda sorta) made certain it was him. WonderfulNeighbor Girl brought out her planets book and the kids had a fun time going through the phases of the moon and the process of an eclipse. (It's really fun to have neighbors who also homeschool.)
We missed the Skates & Rays exhibit today because I took a seriously delightful nap with Jacob. The boys had some much-needed quiet time, as well. They read together through some new books and some old favorites. We plan to go tomorrow after Spanish co-op.
I had such a wonderful moment over lunch today! John asked me to read a book he'd picked out at the library; Miracle, the True Story of the Wreck of the Sea Venture (by Gail Langer Karwoski). I read the cover notes aloud (which is a great way to give the kids an idea of what to expect in longer books), and what do you know, the story of the Sea Venture was the basis for Shakespeare's The Tempest. (No, two and two did not make four all on their own for me- I was spoon-fed that part.) The warm fuzzy actually came when James became quite wide-eyed, hurriedly swallowed his milk and said, "William Shakespeare? Mom, he wrote Hamlet, too! Neat!" Ohhh, that felt wonderful. Just wonderful, indeed.
Now don't panic on me here, we haven't waded into reading Shakespeare aloud (yet, but we do plan to do it!) We have, however, regularly talked with the boys about the plays and stories of Shakespeare. There are so many wonderful allusions to his work that you run across in other reading, and if you don't know about it, you'll miss it! You don't want to miss this stuff. Anyway, as an aside, Miracle itself is thoroughly enjoyable, as well. We're reading through it first as a story and will go back to explore the sidebars separately.
The boys are certainly full-out in the throes of being four and six. John has taken to tucking his pant-legs into his socks, for whatever reason I cannot figure. Evidently it's comfortable, and makes perfect sense when you're four. (James did the same thing, only with his boots, when he was four.) He looks like a little Dickensian urchin with the pants puffed out above the socks at the knees. Where is that "I dressed myself today" button when you need it?
James has developed an incredibly full-bodied dance he calls The Karate Dance. It's silliness to the core. He rescues, watches or plays with any creature that comes within the parameters of our property, and gets terribly giggly over the silliest things.
They speak gibberish to one another and laugh until tears stream down their red little faces. They pretend to be robots while gathering laundry (you have to push the start button each time they wind down). They climb into bed in the morning to snuggle under the "fluffy sheet" (what they call the down comforter) and make the day's plans with whispered tones of excitement, as if we're organizing a super surprise party. They're really, truly, wonderfully great kids. I'm having such a great time with them, and even though this week is pretty long, it's still so good.
Let's see, well as most of y'all know, the WTM forums have been shut down, pending some serious growing up on behalf of the posters. *sigh* I don't blame the folks for putting their webmasterly feet down and saying, quite simply, "Enough!" It's sad, and I'll miss the Accelerated Learner board terribly. However, the patience and fortitude the folks at Peace Hill Press have shown in continuing to maintain a safe, healthy online environment, hitting the "delete" button and repeatedly requesting that people just play nice... is there a medal for that? If so, they do deserve it. I hope they know that the majority of us have enjoyed and appreciated that forum and we look forward to a day when it can be maintained with a minimum of babysitting required. At least we hope that day will come, but after watching things deteriorate over the past year or so, I can't say I'd blame them if they decided to just nix the whole feature.
And boy-oh-boy, am I glad we have our blogosphere to help us keep in touch now! What do you want to bet several of us (myself included) become much more regular bloggers now? *wink* Oh, and BTW, Patty in WA- if you're out there, hon, you really need to start a blog! And you have mail, too.
Anyhow, I hope tonight brought you clear skies and warm memories. It's time to run through tomorrow's plans and reading and then I'm going to go sail the Med with Capt. Aubrey. *grin*
G'nite!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
On to less pressing matters, then.
We just returned from viewing the eclipse through a telescope over at the Wonderful Neighbors' place. Wow, oh wow. John thought the moon was emptying out, certain that it wouldn't fill back up. The thought that the moon may be dimmed permanently didn't seem to bother him at all, though. James has a better grasp of what's going on, and WonderfulNeighbor Husband is just the best with the kids. He took the time to explain the rarity of a total lunar eclipse, and answered the zillion and one related questions (and, being that they're only four and six, they also had a zillion and one unrelated questions, which he fielded as well.) James decided the first person to see the full eclipse through the telescope should be nicknamed "Eclipse" (for however long these things last when you're six). We (kinda sorta) made certain it was him. WonderfulNeighbor Girl brought out her planets book and the kids had a fun time going through the phases of the moon and the process of an eclipse. (It's really fun to have neighbors who also homeschool.)
We missed the Skates & Rays exhibit today because I took a seriously delightful nap with Jacob. The boys had some much-needed quiet time, as well. They read together through some new books and some old favorites. We plan to go tomorrow after Spanish co-op.
I had such a wonderful moment over lunch today! John asked me to read a book he'd picked out at the library; Miracle, the True Story of the Wreck of the Sea Venture (by Gail Langer Karwoski). I read the cover notes aloud (which is a great way to give the kids an idea of what to expect in longer books), and what do you know, the story of the Sea Venture was the basis for Shakespeare's The Tempest. (No, two and two did not make four all on their own for me- I was spoon-fed that part.) The warm fuzzy actually came when James became quite wide-eyed, hurriedly swallowed his milk and said, "William Shakespeare? Mom, he wrote Hamlet, too! Neat!" Ohhh, that felt wonderful. Just wonderful, indeed.
Now don't panic on me here, we haven't waded into reading Shakespeare aloud (yet, but we do plan to do it!) We have, however, regularly talked with the boys about the plays and stories of Shakespeare. There are so many wonderful allusions to his work that you run across in other reading, and if you don't know about it, you'll miss it! You don't want to miss this stuff. Anyway, as an aside, Miracle itself is thoroughly enjoyable, as well. We're reading through it first as a story and will go back to explore the sidebars separately.
The boys are certainly full-out in the throes of being four and six. John has taken to tucking his pant-legs into his socks, for whatever reason I cannot figure. Evidently it's comfortable, and makes perfect sense when you're four. (James did the same thing, only with his boots, when he was four.) He looks like a little Dickensian urchin with the pants puffed out above the socks at the knees. Where is that "I dressed myself today" button when you need it?
James has developed an incredibly full-bodied dance he calls The Karate Dance. It's silliness to the core. He rescues, watches or plays with any creature that comes within the parameters of our property, and gets terribly giggly over the silliest things.
They speak gibberish to one another and laugh until tears stream down their red little faces. They pretend to be robots while gathering laundry (you have to push the start button each time they wind down). They climb into bed in the morning to snuggle under the "fluffy sheet" (what they call the down comforter) and make the day's plans with whispered tones of excitement, as if we're organizing a super surprise party. They're really, truly, wonderfully great kids. I'm having such a great time with them, and even though this week is pretty long, it's still so good.
Let's see, well as most of y'all know, the WTM forums have been shut down, pending some serious growing up on behalf of the posters. *sigh* I don't blame the folks for putting their webmasterly feet down and saying, quite simply, "Enough!" It's sad, and I'll miss the Accelerated Learner board terribly. However, the patience and fortitude the folks at Peace Hill Press have shown in continuing to maintain a safe, healthy online environment, hitting the "delete" button and repeatedly requesting that people just play nice... is there a medal for that? If so, they do deserve it. I hope they know that the majority of us have enjoyed and appreciated that forum and we look forward to a day when it can be maintained with a minimum of babysitting required. At least we hope that day will come, but after watching things deteriorate over the past year or so, I can't say I'd blame them if they decided to just nix the whole feature.
And boy-oh-boy, am I glad we have our blogosphere to help us keep in touch now! What do you want to bet several of us (myself included) become much more regular bloggers now? *wink* Oh, and BTW, Patty in WA- if you're out there, hon, you really need to start a blog! And you have mail, too.
Anyhow, I hope tonight brought you clear skies and warm memories. It's time to run through tomorrow's plans and reading and then I'm going to go sail the Med with Capt. Aubrey. *grin*
G'nite!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Tuesday, October 26
Ew.
You know that sensation of dread when you're drinking a liquid... a pure liquid with nothing in it but liquid, not pureed or anything like that... and something sort of solid brushes past your lip on its way into your mouth...
I hate that.
Gotta love having a one year old.
And no, I didn't bother to see what it was, just spit, gag and dump. I don't want to know!
Kiss those babies (and check your cup if they'd been near it!)
~Dy
I hate that.
Gotta love having a one year old.
And no, I didn't bother to see what it was, just spit, gag and dump. I don't want to know!
Kiss those babies (and check your cup if they'd been near it!)
~Dy
Park that stroller
We had a big outing today! It was a lot of fun, and we went with three of our favorite people: Wonderful Neighbor and her two daughters. It was quite an adventure. We drove up to some place north of here (lots of traffic), took the Metro (stuck out like the newbie to rail transit that I am), and then to the National Zoo. The boys were awesome, but we tried to do too much too fast. We tried to keep up with Wonderful Neighbor, who has a stroller.
Now, I've never been a fan of strollers, but couldn't put my finger on just what it was that didn't sit right with me. Today, though, it hit me. A stroller tends to take all the pack mule-type stress off the Mom. It makes the smallest ones perfectly portable. And... an unfortunate side effect of all these nifty features is that Mom then tends to continue to move at her stride, her pace. That's fine and dandy for the child who gets the ride, but for pedestrian wee ones, it makes for a very long haul. (For the pack mule Mom who is accustomed to moving at her children's paces and not that of a perfectly-mobile Mom, it's an exhausting experience.) Wonderful Neighbor took it in good humor when I pointed out that her daughter is quite the trooper and I was ready to keel over in the bamboo at that pace. *whew* I can't imagine trying to get through today if my legs were any shorter than they are.
No, I prefer the non-vehicular means of exploring. It does feel good to know why now. And I understand a little better "how" we're able to enjoy big expeditions and short jaunts alike. We don't see the whole zoo in one trip, and we don't try to hustle through. We mosey. We meander. We like the amble part of ambulatory. We see a portion of things, but enjoy that portion immensely. We'll definitely go back to the zoo- the kids all get on so well, but hopefully nex time it'll be sans stroller.
Thank you, all, for sharing your insights and suggestions on writing! Tomorrow is a trip to the library and books are on hold. I would, naturally, love to be paid for writing. That in itself would feel like a tangible validation that I'd attained some level of competence. It isn't the driving force for writing, though, which is probably good. Is it a realistic goal to incorporate into this particular season of my life? Perhaps, but perhaps not. I don't know that I am willing to give what it would require, nor to ask of my husband and children what they would have to give. Knowing that is good. That's a place to begin. From there, maybe James would lend me one of his Ticonderoga #2's and Zorak would let me commandeer a fresh pad of paper. You know, just to work it out and see if there's a path leading from the corner.
I must apologize for thinking Shirley Hazzard may be "chick-lit with big words". She and I had some time the other night to sit down over a cup of coffee once the boys were down, and while I'm not flying through the book (due mostly to very few decent-sized chunks of time the past few days), I did find myself enjoying The Great Fire long before the 50 page cutoff. Patrick O'Brian, however, is also vying for my time and attention. I need my Sailor Dog here to help me translate some of the nautical terms, but the rest of his writing just picks me up and carries me along. What fun!
And so, to bed.
Kiss those babies! And amble with them, as well.
~Dy
Now, I've never been a fan of strollers, but couldn't put my finger on just what it was that didn't sit right with me. Today, though, it hit me. A stroller tends to take all the pack mule-type stress off the Mom. It makes the smallest ones perfectly portable. And... an unfortunate side effect of all these nifty features is that Mom then tends to continue to move at her stride, her pace. That's fine and dandy for the child who gets the ride, but for pedestrian wee ones, it makes for a very long haul. (For the pack mule Mom who is accustomed to moving at her children's paces and not that of a perfectly-mobile Mom, it's an exhausting experience.) Wonderful Neighbor took it in good humor when I pointed out that her daughter is quite the trooper and I was ready to keel over in the bamboo at that pace. *whew* I can't imagine trying to get through today if my legs were any shorter than they are.
No, I prefer the non-vehicular means of exploring. It does feel good to know why now. And I understand a little better "how" we're able to enjoy big expeditions and short jaunts alike. We don't see the whole zoo in one trip, and we don't try to hustle through. We mosey. We meander. We like the amble part of ambulatory. We see a portion of things, but enjoy that portion immensely. We'll definitely go back to the zoo- the kids all get on so well, but hopefully nex time it'll be sans stroller.
Thank you, all, for sharing your insights and suggestions on writing! Tomorrow is a trip to the library and books are on hold. I would, naturally, love to be paid for writing. That in itself would feel like a tangible validation that I'd attained some level of competence. It isn't the driving force for writing, though, which is probably good. Is it a realistic goal to incorporate into this particular season of my life? Perhaps, but perhaps not. I don't know that I am willing to give what it would require, nor to ask of my husband and children what they would have to give. Knowing that is good. That's a place to begin. From there, maybe James would lend me one of his Ticonderoga #2's and Zorak would let me commandeer a fresh pad of paper. You know, just to work it out and see if there's a path leading from the corner.
I must apologize for thinking Shirley Hazzard may be "chick-lit with big words". She and I had some time the other night to sit down over a cup of coffee once the boys were down, and while I'm not flying through the book (due mostly to very few decent-sized chunks of time the past few days), I did find myself enjoying The Great Fire long before the 50 page cutoff. Patrick O'Brian, however, is also vying for my time and attention. I need my Sailor Dog here to help me translate some of the nautical terms, but the rest of his writing just picks me up and carries me along. What fun!
And so, to bed.
Kiss those babies! And amble with them, as well.
~Dy
Sunday, October 24
Make some tea, this is a rambler!
It's chilly out! I have no idea what the temps are- don't really care to know. I think that's why I never put up a weather pixie here (aside from the fact that she simply doesn't wear sweaters nearly often enough); if it's hot out, I'd sit there and stare at her, trying to will the numbers to go down, and if it's cold, I'd try to figure out just where that magic level is- temperature and humidity... riiiiiggghhhhhtttt... ohhhh, yeah, right there. Then I'd snort at her whenever the readout was too high from that. Ha, yes, I'd obsess. Reminds me of my Mother, who would will herself to be as miserable as she thought the temperature merited, even when she was indoors and quite well-insulated from the outside air. Nah, no sense in egging on genetic tendencies. They'll surface eventually without my aid, I'm sure. I will, however, say that it's absolutely beautiful out! How's that?
Zorak headed out this morning (way too early) after coffee with me and breakfast with the boys (which we savored). The boys had hoped to drive him to the airport, but sufficed with some snuggle time at the kitchen table (the heart and hearth of our home) before he loaded them into the Suburban and waved to them through the rain-coated windows. He headed for Baltimore, and we headed for church. After a nice morning, then a quick run up the road to church, it felt good to settle in among others and enjoy the class, enjoy the company, before returning to a tidy and entirely-too-quiet home.
Ok, this has been coming for a few days. Get more tea (or coffee, naturally) and get comfy. I've been picking my own brain on stories, writers, and the way things work since finding myself on the flattened end of a breath-sucking epiphany the other night... Now I'd like to pick yours. The thoughts aren't as clear as they were when they originally surfaced. This bit will be more like the retelling of a faded dream, and for that, I apologize.
One of the themes propelling the last few Dark Tower books is that the story of the Dark Tower is one that had to be told (ka willed it, to use the familiar) and King was merely a facilitator, an avenue, for the story to be told. I know this is commonly said in writing- if you listen (or feel, taste, pick a sense, any sense) you'll *insert form of sensory input here* the story itself, writing itself through you. Yeah. You know, I have a cousin who channels dead voices, and I've never been able to do that, either. So. OK, *sigh* I'm not a Medium for the many stories waiting to be told.
This revelation is sad, to me. I want to be used, and want to be useful in this way. I've stood on the edge of my vista and screamed to the sky, "Show me!" (Therapy eventually cured the nightmares from that particular writing course, where the mantra "show it, don't tell it" was repeated regularly and with cultish, rhythmic tones... I don't know if I really am the only one in the class who didn't get it, or if the others, each afraid to be the lone unbeliever at a spiritual revival, were simply shouting "Yes, Lord, Jesus!" for the benefit of the instructor. At the time, however, that never crossed my mind, so I sat there, mute and fearful that I had been lobotomized at some point in my life without ever realizing it.)
I often hear people asking writers, "What makes a good writer? How do you start? How do you know what to write?" I've asked those same questions myself. I've never received a helpful answer, either, and it's not through fault of accomplished writers who have tried to answer. From what I can tell, outside the realm of technical writing, there seem to be two schools of thought, (neither of which evidently falls under the realm of any muse to which I've been assigned): technical knowledge and the vein process. I've touched briefly on the repercussions of my attempts to learn the technical aspects of fictional writing (creative writing, if you will). I've taken courses and come away more confident in my ability to, well, to write myself into a corner - usually a well-furnished and comfortable corner, but one from which there is no hope of escape. Each course has brought only a finer ability to upholster the furniture or develop the characters stuck in said corner. That's about it. The depth of my abilities as a writer hinge on one major theme: interior design. I can't carry a fictional plot to save my life, but by golly I can sure build a great character and one fine travois for someone else to haul!
The other school of thought comes from Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith*; "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." This is probably as succinct as it will ever get. For us laypersons, the rough translation would be something along the lines of, "We don't know how we do it. We just do it, and we do it wholeheartedly." There you have it. Engineers refer to this very same phenomena as the "PFM box". Don't know how it works, it just does. Yup. OK. So, well, at least that leaves something to work with. If I can change the travois to something waterproof and buoyant, perhaps I could get my characters out of the corner that way, on the flow of blood. Not the nicest way to travel, but hey, if they want out of that corner...
Anyhow, this brings me full circle. I'm not asking "the writers" out there, for you have made your path and know full well that the view from atop the hill is not as clear as it seemed it would be en route. It's ok. People pester y'all enough as it is. So, in the spirit of pooling our resources, I'm asking my fellow travelers. Other writers, other dreamers, others who peek longingly over the edge of that fine line - why do I picture Qaddafi's "Line of Death" when I say that - and plot, plan and scheme to write themselves over that line. Do you think stories wait to be told, or do you think they are drawn from a subconscious existence into the full light of awareness? Do they then begin requesting to be written? Do they talk? Would you be willing to admit in public to hearing one speak to you?
I'm sitting here (on my nicely upholstered chair in my well-appointed corner), working my way through these points. I know full well that I'd be a card-carrying member of one of the "third rate writer's groups" so deigned by some. *shrug* It's ok. You've gotta start somewhere. In the meantime, the coffee is hot. The walls are dingy, and the windows need cleaning, but the company is honest and lively. The dreams are vibrant, and the tension of anticipation keeps things moving along. The ideas, scattered and incomplete as they are, are beautiful in their mosaic gleam. Won't they be magnificent once we figure out what to do with them?
I've got to admit, too, that the furniture is quite comfy here. *grin* Let me know when the next seance is, ok?
Thanks for the afternoon ramble. I look forward to hearing your thoughts, too.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
* A thousand thanks to Chris from the WTM forums for hunting down the author of that quote. I searched for two hours and found most sites attribute it as "author unknown"- and one writing professor at a University attributes it to a freshman student in his WU130 writing class.
Zorak headed out this morning (way too early) after coffee with me and breakfast with the boys (which we savored). The boys had hoped to drive him to the airport, but sufficed with some snuggle time at the kitchen table (the heart and hearth of our home) before he loaded them into the Suburban and waved to them through the rain-coated windows. He headed for Baltimore, and we headed for church. After a nice morning, then a quick run up the road to church, it felt good to settle in among others and enjoy the class, enjoy the company, before returning to a tidy and entirely-too-quiet home.
Ok, this has been coming for a few days. Get more tea (or coffee, naturally) and get comfy. I've been picking my own brain on stories, writers, and the way things work since finding myself on the flattened end of a breath-sucking epiphany the other night... Now I'd like to pick yours. The thoughts aren't as clear as they were when they originally surfaced. This bit will be more like the retelling of a faded dream, and for that, I apologize.
One of the themes propelling the last few Dark Tower books is that the story of the Dark Tower is one that had to be told (ka willed it, to use the familiar) and King was merely a facilitator, an avenue, for the story to be told. I know this is commonly said in writing- if you listen (or feel, taste, pick a sense, any sense) you'll *insert form of sensory input here* the story itself, writing itself through you. Yeah. You know, I have a cousin who channels dead voices, and I've never been able to do that, either. So. OK, *sigh* I'm not a Medium for the many stories waiting to be told.
This revelation is sad, to me. I want to be used, and want to be useful in this way. I've stood on the edge of my vista and screamed to the sky, "Show me!" (Therapy eventually cured the nightmares from that particular writing course, where the mantra "show it, don't tell it" was repeated regularly and with cultish, rhythmic tones... I don't know if I really am the only one in the class who didn't get it, or if the others, each afraid to be the lone unbeliever at a spiritual revival, were simply shouting "Yes, Lord, Jesus!" for the benefit of the instructor. At the time, however, that never crossed my mind, so I sat there, mute and fearful that I had been lobotomized at some point in my life without ever realizing it.)
I often hear people asking writers, "What makes a good writer? How do you start? How do you know what to write?" I've asked those same questions myself. I've never received a helpful answer, either, and it's not through fault of accomplished writers who have tried to answer. From what I can tell, outside the realm of technical writing, there seem to be two schools of thought, (neither of which evidently falls under the realm of any muse to which I've been assigned): technical knowledge and the vein process. I've touched briefly on the repercussions of my attempts to learn the technical aspects of fictional writing (creative writing, if you will). I've taken courses and come away more confident in my ability to, well, to write myself into a corner - usually a well-furnished and comfortable corner, but one from which there is no hope of escape. Each course has brought only a finer ability to upholster the furniture or develop the characters stuck in said corner. That's about it. The depth of my abilities as a writer hinge on one major theme: interior design. I can't carry a fictional plot to save my life, but by golly I can sure build a great character and one fine travois for someone else to haul!
The other school of thought comes from Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith*; "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." This is probably as succinct as it will ever get. For us laypersons, the rough translation would be something along the lines of, "We don't know how we do it. We just do it, and we do it wholeheartedly." There you have it. Engineers refer to this very same phenomena as the "PFM box". Don't know how it works, it just does. Yup. OK. So, well, at least that leaves something to work with. If I can change the travois to something waterproof and buoyant, perhaps I could get my characters out of the corner that way, on the flow of blood. Not the nicest way to travel, but hey, if they want out of that corner...
Anyhow, this brings me full circle. I'm not asking "the writers" out there, for you have made your path and know full well that the view from atop the hill is not as clear as it seemed it would be en route. It's ok. People pester y'all enough as it is. So, in the spirit of pooling our resources, I'm asking my fellow travelers. Other writers, other dreamers, others who peek longingly over the edge of that fine line - why do I picture Qaddafi's "Line of Death" when I say that - and plot, plan and scheme to write themselves over that line. Do you think stories wait to be told, or do you think they are drawn from a subconscious existence into the full light of awareness? Do they then begin requesting to be written? Do they talk? Would you be willing to admit in public to hearing one speak to you?
I'm sitting here (on my nicely upholstered chair in my well-appointed corner), working my way through these points. I know full well that I'd be a card-carrying member of one of the "third rate writer's groups" so deigned by some. *shrug* It's ok. You've gotta start somewhere. In the meantime, the coffee is hot. The walls are dingy, and the windows need cleaning, but the company is honest and lively. The dreams are vibrant, and the tension of anticipation keeps things moving along. The ideas, scattered and incomplete as they are, are beautiful in their mosaic gleam. Won't they be magnificent once we figure out what to do with them?
I've got to admit, too, that the furniture is quite comfy here. *grin* Let me know when the next seance is, ok?
Thanks for the afternoon ramble. I look forward to hearing your thoughts, too.
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
* A thousand thanks to Chris from the WTM forums for hunting down the author of that quote. I searched for two hours and found most sites attribute it as "author unknown"- and one writing professor at a University attributes it to a freshman student in his WU130 writing class.
Less Inspired
Ah, I ought to have blogged about stories and telling and such while those thoughts were busy tearing their way through my mind. They were clear then (as if something that's tearing at you could be somewhat vague and fuzzy?)
Finished The Dark Tower. Now munching on Shirley Hazzard's The Great Fire. Chick-lit with big words? I don't know. Not far enough into it yet to say. *shrug* We'll see. I did find it interesting, however, to stumble upon a direct reference in King's book to Hazzard as a writer whose words demanded to be read, held importance. My eyes flicked uneasily over to her book, lying in wait, and I thought, "Well, alrighty then."
Today we trimmed boy hair and ran many loads of wash. We purchased costume fabric and notions. We thoroughly enjoyed the boys and one another. Zorak prepared for another trip. I am tempted to whine, but really, this is not bad. A friend's hubby is gone much more frequently and she has managed not to develop a maniacal tone to her laughter yet, so there's hope for me, right?
More books waiting for us at the library. Happy Mom!
The National Zoo is calling us. This means a train ride. Happy Boys!
The days are beautiful and deeply chilling. Miserably unhappy WonderfulNeighbor.
I feel almost guilty for being so enraptured with the weather lately. (However, she can now wear a size four jean, so... it's a fair trade.)
The boys are enjoying their new hoodies (hooded pullover sweatshirts).
I am somewhat envious. They look so snuggly and warm in there!
It's almost one. The last load is drying. Zorak wants to check his email, so I am going to sign off. However, hopefully there'll be a lull tomorro in the roar that is our daily life and I can blog more coherently about the stories...
Dy
Finished The Dark Tower. Now munching on Shirley Hazzard's The Great Fire. Chick-lit with big words? I don't know. Not far enough into it yet to say. *shrug* We'll see. I did find it interesting, however, to stumble upon a direct reference in King's book to Hazzard as a writer whose words demanded to be read, held importance. My eyes flicked uneasily over to her book, lying in wait, and I thought, "Well, alrighty then."
Today we trimmed boy hair and ran many loads of wash. We purchased costume fabric and notions. We thoroughly enjoyed the boys and one another. Zorak prepared for another trip. I am tempted to whine, but really, this is not bad. A friend's hubby is gone much more frequently and she has managed not to develop a maniacal tone to her laughter yet, so there's hope for me, right?
More books waiting for us at the library. Happy Mom!
The National Zoo is calling us. This means a train ride. Happy Boys!
The days are beautiful and deeply chilling. Miserably unhappy WonderfulNeighbor.
I feel almost guilty for being so enraptured with the weather lately. (However, she can now wear a size four jean, so... it's a fair trade.)
The boys are enjoying their new hoodies (hooded pullover sweatshirts).
I am somewhat envious. They look so snuggly and warm in there!
It's almost one. The last load is drying. Zorak wants to check his email, so I am going to sign off. However, hopefully there'll be a lull tomorro in the roar that is our daily life and I can blog more coherently about the stories...
Dy
Friday, October 22
Scratch That
OK, I had a blog all written up and ready to go...
Then I settled in with Roland and what's left of his ka-tet.
King went off on a tirade, though- somewhere around page 547- which got me thinking, and so- scratch the previous blog, I'm going to talk to myself for a little.
I really love to read. It's not an easy feeling to explain, so I won't even try, really. I couldn't do it justice. A good way to illustrate (although I don't quite expect this to make sense to anyone but Zorak and the waitress at the truck stop in Las Cruces) is that when Zorak gives me a book- of any kind, for any reason- I find it almost (but not quite) as romantic as when he bought me an arm guard in 1996. I still have that arm guard, too. *insert giddy sigh here*
This love of reading has not exactly made me into a connoisseur of literature. (I think of books in terms of food, for Pete's sake!) My appetite for just about anything printed and bound, however, has led me down some interesting (?) paths, introduced me to some fascinating ideas, made me cry, made me laugh, and in the end, brought me to a place where I am happier with life-as-it-stands than with fairy tales on film. It doesn't always work that way, I know. That's just how it's been for me. I'm not one who is willing to forego a good coffee and brainstorm session with Zorak, either. It's not like that, really. I don't even think I'm more... whatever it is, because of it. But it's there, and I really do love it.
So where was this going? Well, nowhere, really- just... oh, yes, the ignorance of youth (mine, specifically, nobody get yer panties in a bunch over such a generalization!) Does anybody else remember sitting in World History class and hearing the instructor (Oh, slave master that he was!) assign something unbearable, such as pp. 221-263 to be read by Thursday? Anyone? The groans! The cries of injustice! How could he do that? Ohhh, or worse yet, assign such a tedious task on a *gasp* Friday, due on Monday? What?! Has he no life? Whatever will we do?
Yeah, I joined in the chorus. I whined my fanny off. I applied every ounce of leverage I could pull to get such a sentence lifted. *snort* Wow, no wonder our cries fell on deaf ears. So then, twenty-mumble-mumble years later, here I am- I checked out The Dark Tower on, what was it, Monday night? Just hit page 550, and that's only because we have, you know, things to do. Meals to cook. Showers to take. (There are just some places you can't, or shouldn't, take a library book.) Oh, and we lost our electrical power last night around nine. I read until our only candle was a nub and felt I really ought to save a bit of it. (It was short to begin with.)
Now, I'm not equating Stephen King with the texts of McGraw-Hill and company. I'm just laughing in that semi-embarrassed, ironic way that's pretty much become a part of me. I'm laughing at life. Yup. It's awkward. I whined over having to read a whopping forty-two pages in a week. Now I'll gobble that in an evening, and take notes on my own, to boot! (Not because I'm such a scholar, but because my memory just doesn't hold up so well these days.) I wouldn't do high school over again for anything, but I sure would love to have been able to keep my head on straight enough to soak up and make good use of all that guided, directed education while I had it in front of me, with a dedicated time slot set aside each day; much better than expending so much energy and creativity in trying to get out of it! Now I get to devote twice the energy and create my own time slots, make my own dedications.
And I do mean "get to"- I'm thankful that I can do that! How exciting to know that although I made my own road a bit rougher to travel, it isn't inaccessible by any means. The journey is still possible, and still sweet, even though the eyes may water and the joints may creak a bit now.
My hope is that the boys will see the love burning constanly, and watch the discipline - the self-discipline - growing, and that they will see it as "normal". I want it to be just as normal to them to pick up a biography or a great novel as it is to go to the market for groceries or hold the door for strangers. Just add it to the list of things I hope to model well enough that they don't have to wrangle it later on in life themselves. That's the best we can do, isn't it?
It's the story we can tell.
And tomorrow I'd like to talk about stories that want to be told...
But right now it's nearly four, and I'm going to be one tired Mama come sun-up! Kiss those precious babies!
~Dy
Then I settled in with Roland and what's left of his ka-tet.
King went off on a tirade, though- somewhere around page 547- which got me thinking, and so- scratch the previous blog, I'm going to talk to myself for a little.
I really love to read. It's not an easy feeling to explain, so I won't even try, really. I couldn't do it justice. A good way to illustrate (although I don't quite expect this to make sense to anyone but Zorak and the waitress at the truck stop in Las Cruces) is that when Zorak gives me a book- of any kind, for any reason- I find it almost (but not quite) as romantic as when he bought me an arm guard in 1996. I still have that arm guard, too. *insert giddy sigh here*
This love of reading has not exactly made me into a connoisseur of literature. (I think of books in terms of food, for Pete's sake!) My appetite for just about anything printed and bound, however, has led me down some interesting (?) paths, introduced me to some fascinating ideas, made me cry, made me laugh, and in the end, brought me to a place where I am happier with life-as-it-stands than with fairy tales on film. It doesn't always work that way, I know. That's just how it's been for me. I'm not one who is willing to forego a good coffee and brainstorm session with Zorak, either. It's not like that, really. I don't even think I'm more... whatever it is, because of it. But it's there, and I really do love it.
So where was this going? Well, nowhere, really- just... oh, yes, the ignorance of youth (mine, specifically, nobody get yer panties in a bunch over such a generalization!) Does anybody else remember sitting in World History class and hearing the instructor (Oh, slave master that he was!) assign something unbearable, such as pp. 221-263 to be read by Thursday? Anyone? The groans! The cries of injustice! How could he do that? Ohhh, or worse yet, assign such a tedious task on a *gasp* Friday, due on Monday? What?! Has he no life? Whatever will we do?
Yeah, I joined in the chorus. I whined my fanny off. I applied every ounce of leverage I could pull to get such a sentence lifted. *snort* Wow, no wonder our cries fell on deaf ears. So then, twenty-mumble-mumble years later, here I am- I checked out The Dark Tower on, what was it, Monday night? Just hit page 550, and that's only because we have, you know, things to do. Meals to cook. Showers to take. (There are just some places you can't, or shouldn't, take a library book.) Oh, and we lost our electrical power last night around nine. I read until our only candle was a nub and felt I really ought to save a bit of it. (It was short to begin with.)
Now, I'm not equating Stephen King with the texts of McGraw-Hill and company. I'm just laughing in that semi-embarrassed, ironic way that's pretty much become a part of me. I'm laughing at life. Yup. It's awkward. I whined over having to read a whopping forty-two pages in a week. Now I'll gobble that in an evening, and take notes on my own, to boot! (Not because I'm such a scholar, but because my memory just doesn't hold up so well these days.) I wouldn't do high school over again for anything, but I sure would love to have been able to keep my head on straight enough to soak up and make good use of all that guided, directed education while I had it in front of me, with a dedicated time slot set aside each day; much better than expending so much energy and creativity in trying to get out of it! Now I get to devote twice the energy and create my own time slots, make my own dedications.
And I do mean "get to"- I'm thankful that I can do that! How exciting to know that although I made my own road a bit rougher to travel, it isn't inaccessible by any means. The journey is still possible, and still sweet, even though the eyes may water and the joints may creak a bit now.
My hope is that the boys will see the love burning constanly, and watch the discipline - the self-discipline - growing, and that they will see it as "normal". I want it to be just as normal to them to pick up a biography or a great novel as it is to go to the market for groceries or hold the door for strangers. Just add it to the list of things I hope to model well enough that they don't have to wrangle it later on in life themselves. That's the best we can do, isn't it?
It's the story we can tell.
And tomorrow I'd like to talk about stories that want to be told...
But right now it's nearly four, and I'm going to be one tired Mama come sun-up! Kiss those precious babies!
~Dy
Wednesday, October 20
Reading Our Way Through The Week
Once in a while we land upon a book that just makes us all say "Wow!" This week we've found another one: The Dinosaurs of Waterhouse Hawkins. Along the lines of The Librarian Who Measured The Earth, it's a child-sized biography. (We need more of those! The boys are thoroughly enjoying them, as are Zorak and I. Anyone else know of some great child-sized bios they'd like to recommend?) It's engaging, the illustrations are delightful, and the boys took an immediate and deep dislike to "Boss" Tweed.
Speaking of which... it's funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same. I've read so much of the nastiness in this election: the intimidation, bullying, badgering, vandalism, even assaults. It's making me absolutely nauseaus. For all the talk of respecting the opinions of others, there is terribly little true respect being shown in America this year, and even less of the so-called tolerance that's supposedly en vogue (a word which I really don't like to use, anyway, as it denotes a certain elitism- in that they will tolerate the poor plebes who aren't enlightened enough to agree with them. Urk.) I really don't get it. There are so many of us here in the blog-circle who are of incredibly diverse philosophies and backgrounds, faiths and ideologies, and yet we don't run about knocking one another in the head and vandalizing each other's blogs. I'm certain we wouldn't be doing it if we actually lived next door to one another, either. What is wrong with some people that they are so threatened by the opposing viewpoint that they cannot abide a little respect for fellow human beings?
Blech. Anyway, politics aside, it's been such a nice week. The weather has been grey and drizzly. It's just gorgeous. Yesterday we had hot chocolate and read, read, read. We played on the front lawn with the Wonderful Neighbors (who have also recovered from the Sneaking Snot). Tomorrow is the hs group's corn maze/pumpkin patch field trip. The boys remember last year's corn maze and they're so excited to go again. John asked, "OH, will it have dead ends and a map and everything?" I love watching those connections string together year-by-year. These are among the memories they're building. We hope to make them warm and loving ones; great and small.
We've done music daily this week, and it has made such a difference! Recorder practice, rythm games, dancing in the living room, background music to our reading- it's been a smorgasboard of musical activity! Today, John, who would probably skip the second coming of Christ if there's a good movie showing, said he didn't want to watch a movie this afternoon because, "We might miss all this nice music!" He danced back through the kitchen and left Zorak and I standing, jaws agape. Well... cool. This is a definite keeper!
We have to make Halloween costumes this weekend. I've got to find a duck pattern for James and figure out a Lone Ranger costume for John. Need to get on that, eh? I'm such a procrastinator! It's embarrassing, really. Nobody's fault but mine, I know. Well, if we do get them done this weekend, it'll be the first time I've done it before the 30th, so that's an improvement. *grin* For those of you who are celebrating Halloween, what are your little ones going to be this year?
OK, well, my play-time is up. Kiss those babies and have a wonderful Wednesday evening!
~Dy
Speaking of which... it's funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same. I've read so much of the nastiness in this election: the intimidation, bullying, badgering, vandalism, even assaults. It's making me absolutely nauseaus. For all the talk of respecting the opinions of others, there is terribly little true respect being shown in America this year, and even less of the so-called tolerance that's supposedly en vogue (a word which I really don't like to use, anyway, as it denotes a certain elitism- in that they will tolerate the poor plebes who aren't enlightened enough to agree with them. Urk.) I really don't get it. There are so many of us here in the blog-circle who are of incredibly diverse philosophies and backgrounds, faiths and ideologies, and yet we don't run about knocking one another in the head and vandalizing each other's blogs. I'm certain we wouldn't be doing it if we actually lived next door to one another, either. What is wrong with some people that they are so threatened by the opposing viewpoint that they cannot abide a little respect for fellow human beings?
Blech. Anyway, politics aside, it's been such a nice week. The weather has been grey and drizzly. It's just gorgeous. Yesterday we had hot chocolate and read, read, read. We played on the front lawn with the Wonderful Neighbors (who have also recovered from the Sneaking Snot). Tomorrow is the hs group's corn maze/pumpkin patch field trip. The boys remember last year's corn maze and they're so excited to go again. John asked, "OH, will it have dead ends and a map and everything?" I love watching those connections string together year-by-year. These are among the memories they're building. We hope to make them warm and loving ones; great and small.
We've done music daily this week, and it has made such a difference! Recorder practice, rythm games, dancing in the living room, background music to our reading- it's been a smorgasboard of musical activity! Today, John, who would probably skip the second coming of Christ if there's a good movie showing, said he didn't want to watch a movie this afternoon because, "We might miss all this nice music!" He danced back through the kitchen and left Zorak and I standing, jaws agape. Well... cool. This is a definite keeper!
We have to make Halloween costumes this weekend. I've got to find a duck pattern for James and figure out a Lone Ranger costume for John. Need to get on that, eh? I'm such a procrastinator! It's embarrassing, really. Nobody's fault but mine, I know. Well, if we do get them done this weekend, it'll be the first time I've done it before the 30th, so that's an improvement. *grin* For those of you who are celebrating Halloween, what are your little ones going to be this year?
OK, well, my play-time is up. Kiss those babies and have a wonderful Wednesday evening!
~Dy
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