Our John-John is ten!

In the blink of an eye, the turn of a phrase, that split second between a joke and the punchline, he's gone and turned ten. And what a fun, loving, witty ten he is. He's getting more adventurous, too.

We spent the day with Me-Wa and Me-Tae, having lunch (yeah, on Father's Day - I know, but sometimes the schedule doesn't really give us much wiggle room - our waiter really jumped through hoops to help get us in and out quickly), then going to the movies (Toy Story 3, John's pick, and it was great that the whole family could go and enjoy it - there was an absolutely adorable little fuzzy-headed toddler behind us, and all the children in the theater were wonderful - that, alone, was fantastic and amazing!) The 2:15 show was sold out, so we hit the mall to blow a few hours, then headed back to enjoy the 5PM showing.

We didn't break out his Big Gift until we got home that night, just because we didn't want to have to pry it out of his hands every time we had to get out of the car.

(This thing puts the Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle to shame. To shame, I tell you! muuaaahahhaahaaa!)

I'm always touched by John's easy-going nature. He handles disappointments and glitches with a gentle, easy grace that just blows me away. And he bounces right back without blinking, ready to enjoy the next adventure. Onward and Upward! He's silly and affectionate with his siblings. He's a hard worker, and a big dreamer. He does the right thing, even when it's not the fun thing, or the easy thing. He's so much like his Dad, and I could not be more proud.



And, at least when he does go wild and take chances, he's learned to do it with a helmet and padded gear...

So, really, he's set! (Yeah, that's a 15' drop. On a Big Wheel. Sometimes, I just don't ask, anymore.)

Happy Birthday, Sweet John! We love you!

Kiss those babies (they really don't stay babies for long!)
~Dy

New Uses

Jase likes to get his own cup. Lately, he wants to use cups the older kids use. In our case, jelly jars - they're more resilient than regular juice glasses, look fine if they're mis-matched, and, hey what do you know...



They'll take the lid to a sippy cup! (He brought us the cup and the lid. We tried it, not expecting it to work, but to show him it wouldn't work. Boy, were we surprised!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Wow, You Worked A Lot!

James came home from Scout camp on Saturday. It was hard to have him gone, and wonderful to have him back. (Yes, we're working toward them being okay leaving home, and us being okay with it, too. Still, that first time is a kicker!) I was anxious to hear about his week. For him, it was good, but the stories need to percolate a bit before they come to the surface. What he did say, however, was, "Wow, you worked a lot! It's like the house went on a changing binge as soon as I left!"

*blink* What?!? It was a quiet week. John and Jacob went to Day Camp. Jason napped in the car. Emily and I had tea parties. Not a particularly productive week, I thought.

Not really, Mom. The chickens got big enough to move. And now they're at the barn.

The garden grew enough that you're harvesting stuff out of it.

The blackberries have all turned red!

Jason's talking more. Emily's making her own bed.

*sigh* Everything's changed in just a week.

Yeah, yeah it has, kiddo.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Oh Hai

It's June. So far, June has looked like this

Jacob's having a great season. He's at his final game, win or lose, right now. Back-to-back County Championship games at the end of a full day of Scout Camp. It makes my stomach hurt, just thinking about it. But he's having a blast. Wee! It's SUMMER!

I think I may lobby the Cub Scouts to push their camp back by a week next year. It always rains them out at least one day (this year, it was yesterday, and then they shut it down early today). It always overlaps the final championship games of baseball (and there are a lot of cubs in baseball). And, as we learned this week, it conflicts with Boy Scout Camp (although they needed Boy Scouts to assist with the Cub Scout camp).

And, when we aren't at the field, we're in the garden. These are nearly ready:



Lemon thyme, pineapple sage, Greek oregano, and lemon balm. The kitchen looks so old-school, and it smells fantastic! The garlic and horseradish are growing beautifully, but won't be ready for harvest until next year. The Bee Balm is freakishly healthy and happy. The chamomile isn't coming up. We suspect there isn't enough sun for it, where we tried this time. We'll try again in another spot. (This is the hard way to become gardeners.)

However, it looks like James has decided to make teas and vinegars for Christmas gifts! And it really is fun!

How's your summer starting out?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

This Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day. Do you have someone you'll remember this day? Someone you'll be missing this day, who is serving our country and cannot be with you? Thank you. And thank them. And for those who have passed on, there is no way we can thank them other than by living up to the legacy they've left us.

So today, we'll read this again.

We'll talk about those who have served before to ensure the freedoms we have today.

We'll honor them by doing our best, in every way.

And I'll probably get choked up and cry a little, but the kids expect that by now.

And I wanted to share this song. I love it. It's terribly underrated, and it's beautiful.



Kiss those babies,
~Dy

Don't Wait for Perfect

We have a tendency to put off doing something until we can do it "just so". That may work for some, but for us, it only means we'll keep putting it off indefinitely. Whether it's a lack of money, or of time, or even knowledge that gets in the way, it's always something. So, put it off until... blah, blah, blah.

Last year, we decided we'd put an intentional end to that, in our gardening areas. And wow, what a difference! Not that we have *any* idea what we're doing. But it's starting to look like we do!

Today, the kids and I harvested lemon thyme, lemon balm, pineapple sage and Greek oregano. It's all cleaned off, drying in little bundles in the kitchen window, now. Some of it will be used for tea, and some for cooking. Some of it, we want to experiment with.

The garlic and horseradish the boys put in earlier this spring are both doing well, and the kids can hardly wait for those plants to mature for harvest.

That whole end of the yard is starting to look (and smell) unbelievably good. And while I'm tempted to lament just how awesome it would have been if we'd done it the first spring we were here, (but then, we'd have a bountiful harvest, and still no place to put it - which is why the house came first. Still, one wonders...) In the end, we're getting to it, and it's really happening.

It felt so good, kneeling in the dirt with the kids, as they clipped and gathered the herbs. Walking slowly around the tea garden, with shears and bundles in my hands, listening to each of the children identify their plants.

Granted, we're on our third planting of tomatoes this spring (we cannot get them to germinate!), but as soon as we figure that out, we'll have the herbs to season them with!

Don't pass it all up waiting for "just so". Because "wonderful" and "your best" is absolutely delicious, in so many way! But "never got around to it" just doesn't season memories so well.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Myths and Ire

M'kay... So, I saw this online the other day...

I am fed up with teachers and their hefty salary guides. What we need here is a little perspective. If I had my way, I'd pay these teachers myself.... I'd pay them babysitting wages. That's right... instead of paying these outrageous taxes, I'd give them $3.00 an hour out of my own pocket. And I'm only going to pay them for five hours, not coffee breaks. That would be $15.00 a day - each parent should pay $15.00 a day for these teachers to babysit their child. Even if they have more than one child, it's still a lot cheaper than private day care.

Now, how many children do they teach a day - maybe twenty? That's $15.00 x 20 = $300 a day. But, remember they only work 180 days a year!! I'm not going to pay them for all those vacations. $300 x 180 = $54,000. (Just a minute, I think my calculator needs batteries.)

I know now you teachers will say what about those who have ten years' experience and a Master's degree? Well, maybe (to be fair) they could get the minimum wage, and instead of just babysitting, they could read the kids a story. We can round that off to about $5.00 an hour, times five hours, times 20 children. That's $500 a day times 180 days. That's $90,000....HUH???? Wait a minute, let's get a little perspective here. Babysitting wages are too good for these teachers. Did anyone see a salary guide around here??

Author Unknown - it could have been any one of America's 2.5 million "overpaid" public school teachers

As you know, if you've read here for any length of time, I believe that teaching children is one of the most noble, powerful, worthwhile endeavors any human can engage in. While we choose not to contract with the government for the education of our children, we've also long felt that teachers should have more control over their classrooms, better pay (particularly when viewed through the School District spending, in general), and backup from the parents. Granted, as long as the Department of Education continues to expand its grip on American Education, that first bit isn't going to happen, not by a long shot.

And as long as the educational unions remain as prolific as they are, the deadlock of corruption and waste endemic in the public school systems will not be resolved to anybody's satisfaction in the foreseeable future. (And really, who can blame voters for voting down bond measures when Admin salaries or peripheral expenses go up and up and teacher's salaries stagnate, every time? We could mortgage our futures, and yet it seems the teachers won't ever see the money.)

And, really, while I'm generally pretty empathetic about teachers' salaries, the amount of sheer smarminess in this little tirade rubbed me the wrong way. First of all, who gets a baby sitter for $3/hr? Oh, I know, that's supposed to be "the point". Well, let's look at a few other points:

~ A babysitter will come to my home.
~ A babysitter will do so on my schedule.
~ A babysitter will give my child individualized care and attention.
~ A babysitter will use the materials I feel are superior, and not just what the Head Sitter has told her to use.
~ A babysitter will happily use materials I provide, if hers are not up to par.
~ A babysitter is accountable to me.
~ If the babysitter sucks at her job, I can fire her and find a competent one.
~ If the babysitter simply is not capable of interacting or connecting with my child, I can fire her and find one who is.
~If the babysitter abuses/hits on/offers drugs to my child, the sitter is out. of. here. - no "administrative leave", and certainly not a paid one! Gone. If I don't trust you, you have no business being in charge of my child. That's my call.
~ If I find out the babysitter is trying to teach my children that they, minors who can't live on their own yet, are intuitively more worldly and knowledgeable than we, their parents, are, I can fire her and find one with a functional moral compass.
~ If I have any questions or concerns about how the babysitter is doing her job, I don't have to worry about getting the run around about "standard procedures", "school policy", "protocols", or "letting the *experts* handle this".
~ A babysitter isn't obligated to some union that has my children at the bottom of the priority list.
~ A babysitter is someone I have personally chosen, based on the criteria I value and desire in the interaction and care of my children, not based on someone else's ideas of "competent", "certified", or even "professional".
~ A babysitter will pick up a bit, too, if she's really good.
~ A babysitter doesn't forget that I, the parent, AM the Ultimate Advocate for my child. Ever. (Refer to the sixth one, above.)

I'd say that's worth something.

And when you add in actually teaching, educating, my child? AND doing it well? There simply is no way to fully compensate someone monetarily for that, no matter how much blood you tax from property owners. And so, I do it, myself. And still pay the taxes so that other people have access to teachers for their children.

As with any social government program, though, public education is rife with bureaucracy, red tape, conundrums wrapped in enigmas, waste, corruption, pissing contests among all participants, political malarkey, and, of course, inefficiency. I'm really sorry the system is in such bad shape, but don't get snarky with me, expecting me to believe that more money will magically fix the problems. Clean house and sort it out, then talk. Or not. Whatever.

Just makes me that much happier that my children aren't in the hands of people with this much ire toward the rest of the world.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Getting Stuff Done

This year, we've all got allergies. Not quite what I was shooting for, as a family gift, but it has brought us all closer together. We congregate near the antihistamines and tissues. We take advantage of that quality time by coordinating appointments and practice/game schedules. As a result, we're getting caught up on a number of overlooked topics.

James and John saw an optometrist today. Or an ophthalmologist. Or, something. He had a lot of equipment. He spoke very slowly and clearly. He seemed to shoot me straight. It's all good.

John got a prescription for reading glasses. He said it's mild enough that he wouldn't normally even recommend glasses, but based on John's migraine problems, and our description of how we've tracked that down, he said he's confident this will eliminate them. Wee! John will be excited when he sees it play out. I am excited right the heck now! Also, the doc said he has no scarring visible, which was one of those *exhale your relief inappropriately loudly in the office* moments.

James' vision is fine, and we ascertained that he's certainly not shy. But the Doc was concerned about the beating James' eyes are taking from the allergies. We left with some otc suggestions for eye drops, and an open invite to call in for more options if that doesn't do the trick. James was hesitant (the last time we tried eye drops, they burned horribly), but he said this stuff (Alaway. Catchy, huh? That link has a $4 off coupon, too, I just noticed. Huh. Should've looked earlier.) doesn't burn. And the difference was 100% worth it. Again with the excitement, but this time, it's both of us.

Now to finagle a physical for Scout camp, and an office visit for what's beginning to sound like a lower respiratory infection... and I wonder if someone would come to our home to potty train Jason? (No, really. I am so tired. And not really looking forward to carrying three spare sets of clothes at all times, or to strategically purchasing my groceries based on distance from the bathroom. We just got EmBaby out of the habit of having to use every toilet in every location. Market Day just recently became quick and efficient!)

But, other than that, and general follow-ups for the rest of us, it's looking like things are about to slow down, a bit. Oh yeah, that'll be nice.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

The Smelly Days of Summer

I'm up late, doing laundry. (Thrilling, no?) Usually, I am on top of the laundry. I have to be. If it piles up, it piles up quickly. In the blink of an eye, there are missing persons reports to file, stray animals to round up, napalm drops to call in... Yeah, it generally takes two loads a day, to stay on top of things. But the nice thing is that, when baseball season starts, and things get hectic (and the wash frequency goes up, so they have clean uniforms all. the. damned. time.), I can throw in a load before breakfast, switch it to the dryer and start a second load that I don't have to worry about until we get back from that day's practice/game/random event.

Until about... now. If a load stays in the washer more than, say, ten or fifteen minutes after the final spin, it's gotta go through again, with vinegar. And prayers. If my church had cool, helpful statues, I'd stick one in the vent hose. (Is there a saint of washer women?) And that's when I know Spring is gone. The humidity goes up just enough to tweak the air a titch. The temps go up just enough to do the trick, but not quite enough to turn on the a/c, yet. So, I don't notice until it's too late. That, and it always happens in the midst of baseball season, so I'm not usually paying any attention, anyway.

Zorak had surgery last week (outpatient, to correct the inevitable payback of a misspent youth, or so he jokes - it was to correct some sinus problems, actually), so he's been flying the Percocet Carpet for the last five days. And in that five days, wee doggies, have I dropped the ball! Not entirely. We haven't lost any more chickens. We're all spooled up on local news. School's still getting done (amazingly enough). The dogs still recognize us. Everybody's been fed, everyone's made it to lessons/practices/games/doctor appointments. We've worked out a good schedule for peeking in on him to make sure he's okay. But not quite everyone has clean socks. Or towels. The towels are always the first to freak out on me and not make it to the dryer on the first run. And once they've backlogged, it throws my whole delicate (read: unstable) system into slow motion.

Thankfully, it's a good Hulu night - Castle, Modern Family, Glee. Hulu, making laundry nights fun again!

And, only one more week of baseball, I think. John's tournaments begin tomorrow, and then he's done. Then Smidge (Tuesday!) goes until the 29th. Yes, I know that's technically more than a week, but in Baseball Time, it's close enough to call it a week. :-)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Post-Mother's Day Recap

Did you have a nice Mother's Day (if you observe it, that is)? We do, sort of. As much as we tend to observe any holiday we might be able to get out of. It's hit or miss, with us. Really, I think there's a sick humor in Mother's Day being observed on a Sunday. What mother's ideal Mother's Day really includes the Sunday Morning Chaos that accompanies, well, Sunday Mornings? Not mine! And I know, it's not like we have an excuse -- church starts at 11:00, we're only half an hour away, and we have everybody showered and clothes lined up the night before. Yet, there you have it. We've become almost entirely nocturnal, and mostly sloth-like before, say ten AM. But, I have yet to convince anybody else we should observe it on Saturdays.

Oh, wait, it's baseball season. I guess Sunday looks pretty good, now, doesn't it? Yeah, love those perspective checks, now and then.

So this year's Mother's Day was nice. Zorak taught the boys how to make French toast, then turned them loose to show off their mad skills. I'm really glad we went with the wider stove. It'll come in handy when they tackle omelets and decide they want to flip them using the pan! Breakfast was delicious, there were no serious injuries, and we didn't even miss the opening prayer!

Then we came home and worked on the property, hauling downed limbs, trimming limbs that refused to down on their own (?), and mowing, mowing, mowing. We got a lot done, until the boys remembered we'd picked up steaks on sale. That's when they began to mutiny. It was a small, absolutely adorable mutiny, as those things go, though. We scuttled back inside to suck down lemonade by the gallon and cook up a nice supper. (Jacob helped with the supper, since he didn't get to help with breakfast. That boy can season a steak just perfectly!)

And so, we ate and laughed, and relaxed for the evening. The boys considered ways to build a "Mom Chair" for the dining table - one that's wider than usual to accommodate an extra child in Mom's lap while she eats. I think they finally decided maybe just putting a back on the bench would be the way to go. Jason encouraged their efforts with his primate-like agility and determination. It was nice. You know, like Life.

And I realized, while going through photos for this post, that this is the closest thing I've got to a recent picture of the whole family... So, at least we have a good idea what to shoot for, for Father's Day, right?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

More Bird Pictures

(Shhhh. I'm posting these while I know Amy's on the road and not likely to see them. She'd thank me for it, if she knew.) :-)

Here are a few closer shots of the individual breeds. Because... Um, I can't think of anything else to blog right now. So, there you have it.

The Spartanly attired little white one, there, with the yellow head, is the other quail. They call her Smart Balance. I thought for sure she was a goner, after the drive home. She's doubled in size, and finally sprouted feathers. (She was almost completely nekkid for about a week. It was both fascinating and horrifying. I have a feeling that will sum up the overall experience, to be honest.)

This is a Welsummer. It's a Dutch breed, and such a strong, gorgeous bird. I love their plumage. The eggs are a terra cotta color, too, which is cool. These are James' picks.

Here's Navajo, one of the Ameracaunas. Isn't he gorgeous? I think this was the only male Ameracauna we had. Sadly, we've now lost all but two of them to some mystery depredation. This one and another, and, I'm sorry to say they went into sick bay this afternoon.

This one is Pingu. Have you seen the cartoon? Yeah, same basic personality. Cute as a button, but without the random yelling, "Pingu!" every once in a while.

John and Jacob had to be dragged away to baseball games tonight. They wanted to take rounds trying to find a way to help the little birds. James, who has utterly redeemed himself for not being able to narrate from the last chapter he read for Literature by filling me in on all kinds of little details about the sickly birds, is down there, now, coaxing some electrolyte fluids into the wee ones, and trying to get them to eat. It is amazing what he's learned so far!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Project Blogging: Chickens and such

Well, the promised chick pictures. This is the only shot we have of all of them (yep, tucked into the wheelbarrow while we finished up the details on the brooder box), as once they got into the brooder box, they scattered. Can't blame them.

So far, it's been bittersweet. The chicks are adorable and funny and mildly insane (I would give money to know what goes through their heads). The children are learning an extraordinary amount, and they're completely enamored with the chicks.

This one's a quail - the boys named him Java. We're 90% sure it's a male, anyway.

They love the roost Zorak put in, as an after thought. Well, some of them love it. The others stand beneath it and peck at the roosting one's toes. (Again... what goes through their minds?)

The bitter part is that we've lost three, today. That's a total of four, out of 30, and I'm trying hard not to freak out. We've touched base with Chicken People, who've helped us brainstorm ideas, and it seems this may just be part of the Bad Stuff Happens category. One got trampled the first day, when a bug got into the coop and they staged a food riot trying to catch it. But the other three have gone from fine, to "not quite right", to "stone cold dead" in a matter of hours.

There's no sign of mites or lice (hold on while I shudder, ew) or injuries. We keep checking and re-checking the temperature, food, water, space, litter, look for pasty butt... temperature, food, water... bet they're wondering what goes through our minds, too.

See the shavings in the food trough? They *just* put those there. I swear, they watch, snickering under their breath, as we clean out the food and water, wait for us to go wash our hands, and then one of them (I suspect the little black/cream mottled one, pictured below - she's ornery) chirps,

OK, everybody! Start kicking! Get it in there! WooHoo! Wait til you see their faces when they turn around!

They do this. I'm convinced of it.

The upshot is that none of the losses seem to be due to Toddler Depredation, or visits from the Bad Idea Fairy. That's a plus. (Ohhhh, I can't describe what a plus that is!) And, of those that remain, all look healthy, strong, and full of spunk. The boys and I, however, will breathe a sigh of relief when the chicks are a little bigger, a little stronger, and a little less fragile. Is there an animal version of poison ivy? Because, that, we have no problem keeping alive.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Terrifyingly Awesome

We took the kids to the Botanical Gardens a week or so back, and I saw this thing. It's a beast of a tree. The thing is, it look gorgeous, delicate, and inviting (from a distance). But then I saw the title plate at the base of the tree.

Dragon? What dragon? Why's it a dragon? Zorak pointed out why it's a dragon. Ohhh....

Did you see it? Yes, lovely little orange erm, shaped, fruits. But beside those, look closely.

Crikey! Now *that's* a protective hedge. I'm thinking we'll plant them below the bedroom windows. Kind of makes the traditional holly bush look a little puny, doesn't it? Yep, then we'd have dragons, in addition to our half-a-moat! It's shaping up to be a regular little castle, around here!

Kiss those babies! (and, uh, keep them out of the dragon beds!)
~Dy

Keeping Up

I need a supercomputer video and snapshot system installed in my temples. That way, I might get better pictures than this. But the pictures in my head are lovely, and this was a fun time, up there. What with the feet in my face, and all. Really, it was.

We're waiting for the custard to finish. SO excited. I mean, unbelievably, thoroughly, and wholly excited about having custard in the middle of the day. *happy sigh* The kids are worried that I'm going to call it "lunch", though, and not feed them properly. It's almost as though they think that by acting like they'd hate it, I'll do it, because I never do that, and yet, they always go straight to that conclusion. Bunchaweirdos.

The chickens are doing fantastic! We've only lost one! I have pictures, but they were all taken when the chicks were in a wheelbarrow, and... well, I'd like to get some shots of the actual brooder box, just so nobody freaks out and thinks we're raising that many chicks in, you know, a wheelbarrow. I'll get some shots today. Promise.

Oh! The custard is ready.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's Springtime, Y'all!

Why didn't anybody tell my 17-yo self that THERE IS STILL SO MUCH TO LEARN!?! Well, someone probably did. So why didn't I listen? Nevermind. There's still a lot I don't know, but I think I've figure that one out, at least.

So, we're gardening the garden of the Ambitious, this year. Cucumbers, eggplants, tomatoes, okra, okra, and okra. Kentucky pole beans and black turtle beans and sunflowers. Yellow squash, zucchini, watermelons, pumpkins, canteloupes and okra. Cayenne peppers, bell peppers, Blue lake green beans, tomatoes, and some okra. Honestly, we're just hoping to get some okra out of the deal.

And there's baseball. And school. And Scouts. And baseball. (EmBaby *hated* t-ball, so we are down to only two players, now. It feels so manageable!) And more gardening.

We're expanding the tea garden into medicinal plants.

The boys keep asking if I've blogged an update on each of them, yet, "with my pictures in it, Mom". But then they won't hold still long enough for me to get pictures to post. (I'm guessing they may not listen when we tell them how much there is still to learn, either.)

Did you know you have to have register with the State of Alabama to grow ginseng here? Not only to sell it (that's a more expensive license), or to harvest it (though they charge you less if you're collecting someone else's ginseng), but just to GROW it. Something that grows wild, without your help, anyway. Unbelievable.

We've got chicks. Yes, little birds. They're in the basement, with the Basement Frog, for now. This was our impetus to get the coop done. (Ya think?) The kids are ecstatic. I'm trying to find a way to develop a full-body second skin dip that will provide prophylactic support against salmonella, mites, and the willies.

EmBaby had her first major tricycle wreck, which also earned her her first shiner. It looked absolutely horrific for the first four days (she was fine, but we all went around cringing and moaning in empathy), and then this morning, *poof* it's nearly gone. And she's still on the tricycle every chance she gets. May she always be blessed with that kind of healing ability and fortitude. If I were more Irish, maybe I could come up with a catchy way to phrase that.

The figs are growing! Or, rather, one of the figs is growing. The other one seems to be holding very, very still, in the hope that neither Jason nor Sally will ever make contact with it again. We've built cages for all of the balcony plants (the two figs, and the three earth boxes), but I think we may have been too slow on the draw to do that one any good. The other one, though (the one that hasn't been uprooted and thrown off the balcony more than twice), is thriving and putting out vibrant, beautiful green shoots! So exciting!

And, there is baseball.

And gardening.

And the smell of sunshine and dirt on little heads.

It's Springtime in the South, y'all!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

It's... um, Wednesday, right?

Right. OK, cool. That means we'll have to leave the house before five (yes, we've become Baseball Vampires, only emerging from our cave for practices and games, at twilight - not as romantic as some might imagine). But today? Today we make the rounds: Egg Lady, Farmer's Market, Veggie Stand, and then to the store for whatever we can't get, there; music lessons, and a side trip for some art study, as well. Then, off to batting practice for John. I wish the crockpot fairy had come during the night.

So far this week, we've had a lovely blend of gardening and land management, academics, and good old fun. I wish I'd thought to jot down the things the kids have said this week, because they've kept me in stitches. Granted, that makes it harder to stay focused. But they're a lot of fun.

Animal Control came by yesterday to pick up three stray puppies that had decided they really wanted to be ours. They were adorable. They were also, unfortunately, much like the Chubb Chubbs, but without the loyalty factor. Or the hope of staying small. They were cute and playful and sweet, with jaws of steel and a vicious street thug attitude when it came to food and other dogs. Presumably, that 'tude extends to small children that carry beef jerky, or are slathered in yogurt. We didn't wait to find out. Thuggery won't fly here, I don't care how cute you are. So, yay, they're gone. I also learned that if you have a stray hanging around for more than ten days, even if it's off and on, it's considered "yours" if you're the one that calls, and you have to sign over rights to it before they'll haul it away. Since it took us a week to figure out they were definitely strays, and then we spent another few days trying to find a home for them, Animal Control Guy said they were mine. Wild.

The boys' music books have completely disappeared. I'm not sure if it's a quiet protest, or just a hard-core case of brain fuzz. The boys seem as baffled as I am, though.

And, since I just don't think I'll ever get around to doing an actual Anniversary Post, it was our Anniversary. Back on the 11th. We celebrated with new plants for the Forever Home, and steaks on the grill at home. It's kind of exciting, not having to buy things like wiring and PVC glue, anymore. Very exciting, to be doing it together. The kids think we're weirdos right now (James and Jacob were angling for a trip to the Longhorn Steakhouse!), but hopefully they'll get it when they're married, and will enjoy strong, happy marriages, whatever they look like and however they celebrate. That's the goal, anyway.

Aaaaaand, we're off and running!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

We're on the road...

Oh, it's been a crazy-busy weekend. Even by Baseball Season standards, yesterday was a blur that I'm still not able to think about. And although we'll slow back down for the rest of the week, it's still a bit busy. On the road we travel, Baseball Season weekends are a detour down a side road with good company, nice scenery, and bad food. Come tomorrow, though, it's back to our regular road...
To scientific advancement,

Mathematical mastery,

Literary prowess,

and, evidently, Shambala.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

In the tea garden

The tea garden survived the winter. The boys are working with the lemon balm, here. The pineapple sage returned quite beautifully, as did the bee balm. They're so excited!!

Wonder what else we could put in there? What would you plant in a tea garden?

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

On Changes, Food

Ok, so Emily and Mere wanted to know more about the nutritional changes we're making. (But y'all need to share yours, too! Learning is more fun, together!)

I'll be upfront: I hate change. Really, I do. Sometimes, it's necessary, and good. Then, I can handle, at times, even embrace it. Most of the time, people want change for the sake of change, with no regard to whether it's a change for the better. When that gets foisted upon me, I loathe it even more. That's what re-arranging the furniture, or coloring your hair, is for. Not for major life changes.

So, when we do decide to change things up around here, it's usually done with a fair amount of thought, research and planning before hand. That's not to say we have all the answers. We're pretty sure we don't even have most of the questions yet. It just means we've taken stock and decided that, for this house, and this family, at this point, this is what we're going to do. And sometimes, in case those aren't enough qualifiers, we don't end up able or willing to pull it off at all. Yep, just drop your pocket change in the therapy jar as you enter the foyer.

One last caveat, so that nobody confuses me with a "professional" in any sense of the word, I'm a gleaner. Gleaning has saved people from dying off, and from making poor choices whole hog, for centuries. Any process that provides that much consistent return is worth looking into. So, when I say I get a lot of insight from Nourishing Traditions, (and I do!) that doesn't mean you'll be able to pry the pressure cooker from my cold, dead (and potentially malnourished, since I keep using the danged thing) hands. I still believe the pressure cooker is the procrastinator's crock pot, a little technological gift from God so that we don't have to choose between eating our food raw and not eating at all. (Yeah, I know, Jess, but I will probably always cook at least some of my food. Love me where I'm at, right? *grin*) Gleaning means that I get why that's not the best way to go about getting food on the table, and I'm willing to work toward an ideal. Or to incorporate those bits that seem to mesh with the above mentioned legwork, meow meow, study, meow family. Meow. (tried to find a link to Daniel Striped Tiger's talking, inserting "meows" in, here and there, but, um... wow. the word "meow" has been taken to an HNL in the past few years. no video for you!)

So, the nutritional changes, we've actually been making slowly over the last year or so. It began with raw milk, spread to soaked grains, moved on to my quirky affair with kefir, and so on. Then, due to logistics, we let the raw milk slide. Life has a way of not letting things slide, however, even when you think it'd be easier to do so. And this was no exception.

John's had a bit of health trouble the last six months or so. We got most of it ironed out, except one: stomach pain. We checked the wheat, we tracked his diet, we flipped his mattress, upped his water, tested eighty gallons of blood, blah-blah-blah. The kid's been a tough little lab rat the past six months, lemme tell ya. Then, one day, while a friend lovingly let me freak out to her about scheduling a visit with a neurologist, it hit me: in John's nine years on earth, the ONLY time he's been free of stomach pain has been when he was on raw milk. That includes the wheat-free years. He's never been free of stomach pain. He had a lovely reprieve last spring, and then, *bam* it was back. Right when we went back to store-bought milk. Hmmm.

So, we found a closer source. We got him spooled back up last week, and within 72 hours, the stomach pains diminished significantly. Within another 24 after that, gone. From 3-4 episodes a day, to nothing, in a week. Guess what's going on our regular grocery list, now? We've made some other changes, too - not all at once, but bit-by-bit.

~ We're pretty much a juice-free home, now. Zorak occasionally buys orange juice. But I don't schedule it into our regular diet. The kids eat fresh fruit several times a day, and they drink water both at meals and throughout the day. They have access to the milk whenever they want, as well.

~ I've cut my coffee consumption exponentially (not exaggerating), replacing that with water, as well.

~ We've moved our Big Meal of the day to an earlier spot in the day, and added in a few smaller, but more intentional meals.

~ We eat breakfast and lunch outside, whenever possible. The atmosphere can't be beat!

~ Oat groats, instead of rolled oats, go farther, are more filling, and have more nutrition. Larger upfront investment, if you buy through a co-op, but an enormous savings, overall - not just financially, but in health benefits, too.

The savings from eliminating juice (and other peripheral beverages), and reducing the coffee consumption, alone, freed up money to spend on local, free-range chicken eggs and fresh, thick, clean milk.

And some changes aren't changes. They're things we've always done, and still feel are the best choice for our home. We still use lard. We still eat meat - red meat, white meat, wild game, you name it. We still have pintos (or some kind of bean) available every day. I've got the boys convinced lentils are cool, but they're relegated to lunchtime only because Zorak thinks they're puny and lacking in body, much preferring the noble pinto. We skimp on junk food and keep a good supply of veggies in the fridge.

The boys are cooking with us more, too. Now that Jase can get up onto the counter and back down, he's pretty, erm, "involved". Em dons her fairy wings and mixes or pours. James made a fantastic guacamole to go with lunch, today. They made a dutch baby (new recipe) and a recipe for German pancakes the other day for breakfast (they did a comparison - and the verdict is, it's the same thing. We ate it all.) Jacob's venturing into the kitchen for a little one-on-one, and learning the ropes as he goes. These are always excellent kitchen happenings!

I'm sure there's more we can do. Probably more we will do. But right now, for this home, and this family, at this point, this is a good place to be.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Life with the JakeRabbit

A quick catch-up on the kids, starting with Jacob. Since he vetoed "Smidge", we've taken to calling him JakeRabbit - no, he doesn't have big ears, or fleas, or a pink nose. He does, however, have an astounding ability to zip around with boundless energy, amazing (if occasionally selective) hearing, and a pretty powerful bounce. It doesn't seem possible, but there he is, reading nutrition labels and bedtime stories to EmBaby, hanging at the ball fields like he knows what he's doing, cracking funny jokes, and cleaning up - when necessary - like he's not being raised by wolves. This is our third time through having a six-year-old, and I think we're finally able to enjoy it, quirks and all. (Reminder to self: thank James and John for breaking us in fairly gently, and loving us through the learning curve.) JakeRabbit, however, is a riot.

He rocked the Hot Dog Sale for Cub Scouts this year. We don't even pretend to sell popcorn, so the boys work both of the weekday shifts of the sale, the Pack's only other fund raiser, to make up for that. Another perk of homeschooling - flexible days! He hung with his brothers, putting in two 7-hr days without so much as a whimper or a faked injury. His domain was the hot dog machine, itself. Yep, heavy equipment operator meets gourmet chef! Looking at this picture, I find myself wondering at what point a hair net is required?

You see, he's trying to grow out his hair, because all (er, well, one or two) of the boys he looks up to have long hair. I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face about it. See, he feels Big, doing this. And, really, it's not a hill I want to die on. He's still polite and sweet, and clean (or, at least when we go into town, he is clean). But his hair... it's curly... and thick... and there's a LOT of it. And, I'm sorry, but when left to its own devices, he looks an awful like like a very young Albert Brooks. The guy who cut his hair last actually recommended we use "product". On a six-year-old. And the sad part? We tried it. It kind of worked, but by the end of the day, the entire back of his head had begun to grow, like those sponge animals in gelatin capsules. Thank God it wasn't humid that day! Also thankful for baseball caps...

He's playing ball again this year. He's enjoying it. He's actually pretty good at it, too. He can run. He can catch. He can throw pretty well. He's figuring out how to hit (it's coach pitch this year, rather than machine pitch). But you know what? He says he's not playing again next year. There's a certain sad irony in knowing that the only one of our kids they're going to *want* to continue playing really just isn't that into it. He does, however, give it his all when he's out there! Can't ask for more than that. He encourages EmBaby in her efforts, too, which is adorable and endearing, and buys him a certain latitude, I'm sure.

So, all-in-all, it's shaping up to be a Great Year for Smidge, er, JakeRabbit. He's winding up first grade. He'll eat pintos, now, without needing too much extra cheese. He's got a dog he loves. And a family that loves him. Not a bad way to spend the year. We're so lucky to have a JakeRabbit.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy