Every year my oldest daughter makes a Christmas list. Not for herself, but a list of people she wants to give gifts to. Not only does she want to give gifts to all of the people in our family--aunts(3), uncles(3ish), cousins(11), grandpas(4), grandmas(4), brothers(5), sisters(2), parents(2)--she also feels the need to MAKE most of them.
She starts by making Christmas cards for each and every person on her list--all different. She is usually done with them by mid-October. Then she pours for hours over her craft books, both borrowed from the library and ones she owns, to find the perfect gift for each person.
(I often wonder what is going through her head at this time, since last year one of her uncles ended up with an elephant ring toss. The elephant's trunk was the ring catcher.)
Then she makes the List. This is the part I dread, because this is where I have to become involved.
Beginning of negativity...
Mostly I stay out of the whole thing, so if anyone has an issue with tacky homemade Christmas gifts, I am not the person to take it up with. You should have seen what I ended up with last year. I love her and I love her heart to give and create, blahdy blah, but I hate tacky. So if your gift is tacky, IT IS NOT MY FAULT. My suggestion is to grin and bear it and hopefully the quality will improve over time.
End (hopefully) of negativity...
A few days ago she came to me and asked when I could take her shopping. She had her list all ready to go. Since I had known this day was coming I had already decided on a day. That day was yesterday. After I made her rewrite her list in a more orderly fashion so we didn't have to wander from one end of the store and back again, we left to go shopping. We decided to go to Walmart first, then hit the craft store and fabric store for the rest.
My daughter is very secretive about the gifts she is making for others. She doesn't like to share. So it makes it hard for me to help her. For instance, her list said "bell." What kind of bell? I asked. Hmm, she didn't remember. Is it a jingle bell, or the other kind?--gritting my teeth. Well, maybe jingle bell, she guesses. Metal pieces? What kind of metal pieces. It's not like you can walk into the store and say "where are your metal pieces?" A cork? Where in the heck is the cork section in Walmart?
Oh, and slow? Oh. My. It was all I could do not to grab the list out of her hand and rush through the store throwing things in the cart. We were in Walmart for over an hour. Ever seen those poor little kids at the store with their moms, following her around--arms hanging down, shuffling their feet, whining "when are you going to be done?"-- that was me. I was so done shopping after the first five minutes.
Okay, so I didn't really do that. But I wanted to.
What a sweet girl. So ambitious and organized. I haven't even made my Christmas gift list yet. I avoid it until the last possible moment. She has been working on gifts out in the storage room all day today, happy as a clam.
Last night, after we got home, she said "There, now I can relax." And so can I. Until next year.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
If you don't hear from me for a while...
...then it will mean that the pigs finally got me.
It has been quite rainy here. However, I seem to have been obsessed with rain since I was little, so I can't be sure if it is my obsession, or it is really rainy.
It has been quite rainy here. However, I seem to have been obsessed with rain since I was little, so I can't be sure if it is my obsession, or it is really rainy.
Monday, November 06, 2006
The Games Kids Play
Since I just wrote about the Poison Word game, it got me thinking about the different games my kids play.
A lot of them have to do with walking through the house--you can only walk on shadows, can't touch the carpet, can't touch anything red, brown, etc.
Then there are the lunch games--they name their fruit, or they break a pretzel and the others have to guess if it is "broken or fixed". Fixed? Did you break it and glue it back together? I have tried to point out that they should be asking "broken or unbroken?" but they ignore me.
Oh, they do normal games too, those are just the weird ones.
I remember when we were little my sister, Cathy, and I played a game at the lunch table. One of us was a well mannered child and the other was a goop. The goop got to eat with horrible table manners--smacking lips, huge bites, chewing with mouth open. The well mannered child had to teach the goop how to have good manners. I am sure our mother flushed with pride when she saw us play this game, because the end result was the reformed goop eating with beautiful table manners. Little did she know that we always fought over who got to be the goop.
We lived on a farm and had no television, so we did a lot of pretending. Our two favorites were "wagon train" and "living in the woods". In wagon train, of course we were Little House on the Prairie type girls traveling to Oregon with our parents. We would throw the covers on the bed all the way back and onto the floor. This was our seat in the wagon. All kinds of dramatic things would happen, usually resulting in sadness and tears.
In "living in the woods" we were poor little orphan girls living in the wilderness with only the animals for friends. We would make pets out of all the wild animals and they would bring us food and save our lives over and over. All kinds of dramatic things would happen, usually resulting in sadness and tears.
Notice a theme? We were all about drama. Actually, my sister was the creative one--I just played along.
Our poor younger sister, Megan. By the time she was old enough to play our pretend games we weren't playing them any more. Instead, I played "hide Megan's baby doll" or "slave". Guess who was the slave.
I have no idea what we are doing in this picture--it doesn't look good whatever it was. But it couldn't have been too bad since our mother got out the camera instead of going out and paddling my hind end.
I am not a big fan of kid's watching television, but my kids do watch PBS shows in the afternoons, along with movies or playstation games throughout the week. I have never felt that it has been a bad thing because they seem to play and imagine and pretend just as much as I did when I was little. They get ideas for a lot of their pretend games from television or movies, just like my sister and I got some of our ideas from books. So they aren't all that different than I was when I was a kid. I didn't name my fruit, but I am sure I did something equally weird.
Right now they are outside in the pouring rain floating peanut shells in the mud puddle, er, lake.
This is "Peanut", who according to my 9 year old son had "sailed the seven hundred seventy-seven seas and made it clear to the milk truck and back."
Watching them brings back memories of spending many hours floating sticks in the ditch.
Ahh, memories...
A lot of them have to do with walking through the house--you can only walk on shadows, can't touch the carpet, can't touch anything red, brown, etc.
Then there are the lunch games--they name their fruit, or they break a pretzel and the others have to guess if it is "broken or fixed". Fixed? Did you break it and glue it back together? I have tried to point out that they should be asking "broken or unbroken?" but they ignore me.
Oh, they do normal games too, those are just the weird ones.
I remember when we were little my sister, Cathy, and I played a game at the lunch table. One of us was a well mannered child and the other was a goop. The goop got to eat with horrible table manners--smacking lips, huge bites, chewing with mouth open. The well mannered child had to teach the goop how to have good manners. I am sure our mother flushed with pride when she saw us play this game, because the end result was the reformed goop eating with beautiful table manners. Little did she know that we always fought over who got to be the goop.
We lived on a farm and had no television, so we did a lot of pretending. Our two favorites were "wagon train" and "living in the woods". In wagon train, of course we were Little House on the Prairie type girls traveling to Oregon with our parents. We would throw the covers on the bed all the way back and onto the floor. This was our seat in the wagon. All kinds of dramatic things would happen, usually resulting in sadness and tears.
In "living in the woods" we were poor little orphan girls living in the wilderness with only the animals for friends. We would make pets out of all the wild animals and they would bring us food and save our lives over and over. All kinds of dramatic things would happen, usually resulting in sadness and tears.
Notice a theme? We were all about drama. Actually, my sister was the creative one--I just played along.
Our poor younger sister, Megan. By the time she was old enough to play our pretend games we weren't playing them any more. Instead, I played "hide Megan's baby doll" or "slave". Guess who was the slave.
I have no idea what we are doing in this picture--it doesn't look good whatever it was. But it couldn't have been too bad since our mother got out the camera instead of going out and paddling my hind end.
I am not a big fan of kid's watching television, but my kids do watch PBS shows in the afternoons, along with movies or playstation games throughout the week. I have never felt that it has been a bad thing because they seem to play and imagine and pretend just as much as I did when I was little. They get ideas for a lot of their pretend games from television or movies, just like my sister and I got some of our ideas from books. So they aren't all that different than I was when I was a kid. I didn't name my fruit, but I am sure I did something equally weird.
Right now they are outside in the pouring rain floating peanut shells in the mud puddle, er, lake.
This is "Peanut", who according to my 9 year old son had "sailed the seven hundred seventy-seven seas and made it clear to the milk truck and back."
Watching them brings back memories of spending many hours floating sticks in the ditch.
Ahh, memories...
Friday, November 03, 2006
Poison Word
My kids have a game they like to play. They try to get someone to say "what". Yep, that's it. "Mom!" "What?" "You lose!". Funny. If Mom doesn't say what and answers "Hmm?" then they just say "Mom!" until I get aggravated and say "WHAT!?!?" "You lose!". Real funny. I am not the only victim, though. The three year old is another great target. "NO I DON'T LOSE!" That is apparently real funny as well.
They call this game the "Poison Word". After a few days of this I was ready to put a ban on the poison word. At least when it comes to me. I have to listen to "Mom!" enough without it being a big joke. I have tried to teach the kids to at least pause a few seconds before repeating when they call me, but it isn't working too well. Especially when it comes to the three year old.
So then I came up with what I thought was a great idea. Why not declare "Mom" the poison word? Brilliant! So I did that. I said, "Mom, Mommy, Mother or any other form of the word is now the Poison Word."
Blank stares.
Laughs.
No one believed me. Undaunted, I tried another tack. The next time someone said, "Mom...Mom...Mom" I said, "I'm not Mom, I'm the babysitter." When that didn't work, I even wrote it down.
Well, that didn't work either. I guess I am stuck with these rotton kids calling me "Mom".
"Hey kids!"
"What?"
"You lose!"
They call this game the "Poison Word". After a few days of this I was ready to put a ban on the poison word. At least when it comes to me. I have to listen to "Mom!" enough without it being a big joke. I have tried to teach the kids to at least pause a few seconds before repeating when they call me, but it isn't working too well. Especially when it comes to the three year old.
So then I came up with what I thought was a great idea. Why not declare "Mom" the poison word? Brilliant! So I did that. I said, "Mom, Mommy, Mother or any other form of the word is now the Poison Word."
Blank stares.
Laughs.
No one believed me. Undaunted, I tried another tack. The next time someone said, "Mom...Mom...Mom" I said, "I'm not Mom, I'm the babysitter." When that didn't work, I even wrote it down.
Well, that didn't work either. I guess I am stuck with these rotton kids calling me "Mom".
"Hey kids!"
"What?"
"You lose!"
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
The Rocket
I mentioned before that my son had a rocket project for school. We finally got a chance to actually complete the project last Sunday.
First of all, it was a little frustrating because his teacher was pretty adamant about what he wanted my son to do but a little vague on how he was to go about doing it. My son, being a little shy, wouldn't pin him down on this matter.
Son: Lt. Prince wants me to shoot the rocket off at different angles and predict something from that.
Me: What does he want you to predict?
Son: I don't know, he said something about thrust and something else. You can go to a web site and put in the information and it shows you the path of your rocket.
Me: Where's the website? Where do we get this information?
Son: Uh, I will ask him tomorrow.
Next day comes...
Me: Did you talk to your teacher?
Son: Yes, he said something about thrust. Thrust and how high the rocket will go. There is a website.
Me: Where is this website? How the heck are we supposed to know the thrust?
Son: I don't know. I keep asking him but he is used to talking to college students and he uses big words I can't understand. He ran for office twice.
My son seems to think this is a good explanation for the fact that the guy can't seem to speak in simple terms. Ha! He may be right.
Me: Would you please ask him what information you need to know, a web site, something?
Son: I will try but he is hard to talk to. He said something about looking at the website where we bought the rocket.
Oh. My. Gawrsh. I wanted to wring his neck. Both of their necks. So on this went for days. I know this wasn't my project. My husband reminded me of that. "But I want to be an involved parent!" I whined. "I don't want to do it for him, but I want to make sure it gets done and not just abandon him!"
Yeah, well guess who finally looked up the websites that gave him the info he needed? ME. Here is a great website for predicting altitude. My son input all the numbers they asked for (finally got that info from the rocket we bought) and found that at zero degrees past vertical the rocket should go about 750 feet into the air with a flight time of about 55 seconds.
By the way, when looking for a rocket to purchase, he ended up choosing the one that gave the highest maximum altitude. Most of the rockets weren't supposed to go over 600 feet or so, but the rocket we bought listed a maximum altitude of 1000 feet. This may have been a mistake.
We went to the ranch to shoot off the rocket because there is a little more room than here at home. He got the motor in and everything all set up and ready to go.
I was able to capture some pictures from the film I took of the whole thing:
Putting in the parachute
Hooking up the motor to the launcher
Getting ready for take off
Whoosh!
See the little building in the background? That is my mother-in-law's laundry room. Heh heh.
Ahem.
The rocket went very very high. After the parachute came out and it started sailing, I was afraid it was going to go a mile.
The whole experiment thing was kind of dumb because he was supposed to predict how high it would go but had no way of knowing how high it really went. All we know is that the flight time was 30 seconds longer than predicted. Duh to the teacher.
No rocket, just rain clouds
The grin says it all
He is telling me that the rocket landed in the neighbor's tree. One of the ones over his right shoulder. So much for wider more open spaces.
This is the one and only flight my son's rocket took. He was supposed to shoot it off at least 3 times, preferably more, for the whole experiment. But he was having a lot of trouble with the fins coming off and after the rocket was recovered from the neighbor's tree, 2 of the fins came off--one is gone forever.
After he repairs the rocket we will definately be setting it off again. This time it will be just for fun.
First of all, it was a little frustrating because his teacher was pretty adamant about what he wanted my son to do but a little vague on how he was to go about doing it. My son, being a little shy, wouldn't pin him down on this matter.
Son: Lt. Prince wants me to shoot the rocket off at different angles and predict something from that.
Me: What does he want you to predict?
Son: I don't know, he said something about thrust and something else. You can go to a web site and put in the information and it shows you the path of your rocket.
Me: Where's the website? Where do we get this information?
Son: Uh, I will ask him tomorrow.
Next day comes...
Me: Did you talk to your teacher?
Son: Yes, he said something about thrust. Thrust and how high the rocket will go. There is a website.
Me: Where is this website? How the heck are we supposed to know the thrust?
Son: I don't know. I keep asking him but he is used to talking to college students and he uses big words I can't understand. He ran for office twice.
My son seems to think this is a good explanation for the fact that the guy can't seem to speak in simple terms. Ha! He may be right.
Me: Would you please ask him what information you need to know, a web site, something?
Son: I will try but he is hard to talk to. He said something about looking at the website where we bought the rocket.
Oh. My. Gawrsh. I wanted to wring his neck. Both of their necks. So on this went for days. I know this wasn't my project. My husband reminded me of that. "But I want to be an involved parent!" I whined. "I don't want to do it for him, but I want to make sure it gets done and not just abandon him!"
Yeah, well guess who finally looked up the websites that gave him the info he needed? ME. Here is a great website for predicting altitude. My son input all the numbers they asked for (finally got that info from the rocket we bought) and found that at zero degrees past vertical the rocket should go about 750 feet into the air with a flight time of about 55 seconds.
By the way, when looking for a rocket to purchase, he ended up choosing the one that gave the highest maximum altitude. Most of the rockets weren't supposed to go over 600 feet or so, but the rocket we bought listed a maximum altitude of 1000 feet. This may have been a mistake.
We went to the ranch to shoot off the rocket because there is a little more room than here at home. He got the motor in and everything all set up and ready to go.
I was able to capture some pictures from the film I took of the whole thing:
See the little building in the background? That is my mother-in-law's laundry room. Heh heh.
The rocket went very very high. After the parachute came out and it started sailing, I was afraid it was going to go a mile.
The whole experiment thing was kind of dumb because he was supposed to predict how high it would go but had no way of knowing how high it really went. All we know is that the flight time was 30 seconds longer than predicted. Duh to the teacher.
He is telling me that the rocket landed in the neighbor's tree. One of the ones over his right shoulder. So much for wider more open spaces.
This is the one and only flight my son's rocket took. He was supposed to shoot it off at least 3 times, preferably more, for the whole experiment. But he was having a lot of trouble with the fins coming off and after the rocket was recovered from the neighbor's tree, 2 of the fins came off--one is gone forever.
After he repairs the rocket we will definately be setting it off again. This time it will be just for fun.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Busy Weekend
No soccer games, no gymnastics meets, just staying home and getting some work done around here. I had been waiting for this weekend for over a month. I had a list of things I wanted to get done that weren't getting done because of all the running around over the last month. I really had no hope of getting it all done since interruptions are a constant in my life, but I wanted to at least get a good start.
First project: Finish digging the path through the yard.
I am planning on making a rock/brick/whatever strikes my fancy path going from the back deck (nonexistent as yet) to the gate at the back of the yard (also nonexistent, but there is a temporary gate to keep the chickens out of the yard). The first task was to lay out the path (a hose is handy for this) and then dig out the dirt. I started on the path a few weeks ago and had been working on it a little here and there when I had the time so I wanted to finish the digging this weekend. I will then put in a few inches of sand and then I will be ready to put in the rocks/bricks/whatever strikes my fancy. I have a broken stone grinding wheel that would look pretty neat in there, I think. I am going to try planting some little ground cover plants in the cracks.
The wide space in the picture (in the shadow so it is a bit hard to see) is for a bench or flower pots or something like that. The area to the left of the path will be flower bed, which right now consists of a mostly dead rhodedendron, 3 dead sunflowers, a tiny azalea, a day lily plant, and a hydrangea that looks like it is dying but is hopefully only looking like that because it is almost winter. A bit of the area to the right of the path (where the aenemic looking lilac bush is) will be flower bed also.
Next task: Start on the rock wall.
Boy, that sounds ambitous, doesn't it? A rock wall. Wow. After getting started on it, I decided that "rock wall" wasn't very accurate, and "rock edge" was probably a more appropriate term. Heh heh sorry, Megan, you sounded so impressed when I said I was building a rock wall. I didn't mean to mislead you.
First I dug a shallow trench for the rocks. Then, with my husband's help, I used the transit to figure out the proper height for the rocks at several different points. The yard slopes a bit funny over there and I wanted to make sure the top of the rock edge was fairly level.
Once I got started the work went very quickly and I actually ended up finishing the job on Sunday.
The wall/edge is taller at the left end than it is on the other side, but it is pretty level across the top. It looks fabulous, if I may say so myself. The edge is surrounding another would be flower bed that only contains two clematis on the fence on each side of the corner. I am planning on putting some kind of flowering tree over there.
Building the rock edge was like putting together a puzzle. It was so much fun. I have an ambition to build a taller wall sometime but it will require some much larger and much flatter rocks.
Third task: Pull all the cornstalks out of the garden for the pigs.
No picture for this one, but the garden is coming to a pretty ugly end and I wanted to get all the leftover corn out to the pigs. I had hopes that I could throw a few stalks into the pen to distract them while I run in and dump food in their feed pans. No such luck. Apparently cornstalks are only interesting when there is no other food to be had.
My 9 year old son helped me with the job of pulling all the stalks out of the ground and stacking them on the wagon. We piled them all up behind the pig pen to make it easy to toss them to the pigs.
Fourth task: Help with garage.
I am usually not a lot of help with the garage, mostly because oldest son does the helping. He was off burning the paper trash for a lot of the time though, so I had to run back and forth giving help when needed. This weekend we got the rafters and sheeting on the mud room and a good amount of the siding on the back end. There is a window back there, but that will be cut later. All the siding has to come down so it can be painted on the edges to prevent rotting later.
We are slowly getting to the point where we can put in some lights and work even when it is dark. Of course, then it will be too cold.
Last task: Shoot off the rocket.
This was more organizing and facilitating than doing, but we did have to find time to do it so it made the list. It really deserves a post all it's own so I am going to attempt to figure out how to put up a little video since I don't have any pictures. Let me just say that it was interesting and a little disappointing, but FUN!! Everyone should make a model rocket and shoot it off sometime in their life.
Path--check
Rock wall, er, edge--check
Cornstalks--check
Garage helper--check
Videographer for rocket project--check (such as it is)
First project: Finish digging the path through the yard.
I am planning on making a rock/brick/whatever strikes my fancy path going from the back deck (nonexistent as yet) to the gate at the back of the yard (also nonexistent, but there is a temporary gate to keep the chickens out of the yard). The first task was to lay out the path (a hose is handy for this) and then dig out the dirt. I started on the path a few weeks ago and had been working on it a little here and there when I had the time so I wanted to finish the digging this weekend. I will then put in a few inches of sand and then I will be ready to put in the rocks/bricks/whatever strikes my fancy. I have a broken stone grinding wheel that would look pretty neat in there, I think. I am going to try planting some little ground cover plants in the cracks.
The wide space in the picture (in the shadow so it is a bit hard to see) is for a bench or flower pots or something like that. The area to the left of the path will be flower bed, which right now consists of a mostly dead rhodedendron, 3 dead sunflowers, a tiny azalea, a day lily plant, and a hydrangea that looks like it is dying but is hopefully only looking like that because it is almost winter. A bit of the area to the right of the path (where the aenemic looking lilac bush is) will be flower bed also.
Next task: Start on the rock wall.
Boy, that sounds ambitous, doesn't it? A rock wall. Wow. After getting started on it, I decided that "rock wall" wasn't very accurate, and "rock edge" was probably a more appropriate term. Heh heh sorry, Megan, you sounded so impressed when I said I was building a rock wall. I didn't mean to mislead you.
First I dug a shallow trench for the rocks. Then, with my husband's help, I used the transit to figure out the proper height for the rocks at several different points. The yard slopes a bit funny over there and I wanted to make sure the top of the rock edge was fairly level.
Once I got started the work went very quickly and I actually ended up finishing the job on Sunday.
The wall/edge is taller at the left end than it is on the other side, but it is pretty level across the top. It looks fabulous, if I may say so myself. The edge is surrounding another would be flower bed that only contains two clematis on the fence on each side of the corner. I am planning on putting some kind of flowering tree over there.
Building the rock edge was like putting together a puzzle. It was so much fun. I have an ambition to build a taller wall sometime but it will require some much larger and much flatter rocks.
Third task: Pull all the cornstalks out of the garden for the pigs.
No picture for this one, but the garden is coming to a pretty ugly end and I wanted to get all the leftover corn out to the pigs. I had hopes that I could throw a few stalks into the pen to distract them while I run in and dump food in their feed pans. No such luck. Apparently cornstalks are only interesting when there is no other food to be had.
My 9 year old son helped me with the job of pulling all the stalks out of the ground and stacking them on the wagon. We piled them all up behind the pig pen to make it easy to toss them to the pigs.
Fourth task: Help with garage.
I am usually not a lot of help with the garage, mostly because oldest son does the helping. He was off burning the paper trash for a lot of the time though, so I had to run back and forth giving help when needed. This weekend we got the rafters and sheeting on the mud room and a good amount of the siding on the back end. There is a window back there, but that will be cut later. All the siding has to come down so it can be painted on the edges to prevent rotting later.
We are slowly getting to the point where we can put in some lights and work even when it is dark. Of course, then it will be too cold.
Last task: Shoot off the rocket.
This was more organizing and facilitating than doing, but we did have to find time to do it so it made the list. It really deserves a post all it's own so I am going to attempt to figure out how to put up a little video since I don't have any pictures. Let me just say that it was interesting and a little disappointing, but FUN!! Everyone should make a model rocket and shoot it off sometime in their life.
Path--check
Rock wall, er, edge--check
Cornstalks--check
Garage helper--check
Videographer for rocket project--check (such as it is)
Friday, October 27, 2006
Fun Mom is back
For a while anyway.
The boys are learning about the Prussians this week in history. For their fun Friday project they got to make a pikelhaube. Not a real one, a fake version of one.
This is a real Prussian pikelhaube (spiked helmet). Here are the ones the boys made:
A little different, but they like them anyway. I thought it was fitting that younger son used his hat from Morocco for his pikelhaube. Morocco is across the way from Spain which is next to France, and the Prussians were fighting against France in the story we read. See? Work with me here.
Of course they think they should also have some Prussian weapons to go with them.
No Fun Mom came back and put a nix on the weapons. I suppose they will go outside this afternoon and pretend, which is okay.
The boys are learning about the Prussians this week in history. For their fun Friday project they got to make a pikelhaube. Not a real one, a fake version of one.
This is a real Prussian pikelhaube (spiked helmet). Here are the ones the boys made:
A little different, but they like them anyway. I thought it was fitting that younger son used his hat from Morocco for his pikelhaube. Morocco is across the way from Spain which is next to France, and the Prussians were fighting against France in the story we read. See? Work with me here.
Of course they think they should also have some Prussian weapons to go with them.
No Fun Mom came back and put a nix on the weapons. I suppose they will go outside this afternoon and pretend, which is okay.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
3 Reasons my kids aren't allowed in the pig pen.
Reason #1: The electric fence.
The pigs were getting a little rowdy with the hog panels and they even escaped a few times so my husband decided it was time to put up the electric fence. The pigs thought this was great fun and caused all kinds of havoc tearing down whatever he put up. Adding a few kids into the mix to chase them away from the completed work was even more fun. As soon as one pig distracted the boys on one side of the pen, the others would run to the other side and grab the wire. Until my husband turned it on. They didn't think that little game was so much fun any more. They were soon huddled in the middle of the pig pen in hopes that they would be safe there.
This is the most minor of reasons, mostly because once you touch an electric fence you usually make sure not to make that mistake again. But since I do have some little ones, they aren't allowed to go near it. I hear that farm boys like to pee on the electric fence, but so far my boys are not aware of that activity. I'd like to keep it that way.
Reason #2: See all that brown stuff in there? It's not all dirt.
I don't have a poop phobia, really. I just don't think it is all that smart to take a plastic pvc pipe and scoop up dusty pig pen "dirt" and blow it on your brothers. Once the boys were reminded what they were scooping up and blowing on each other, they didn't think it was all that smart either.
Reason #3: Pigs will eat you if you stand still long enough.
Or so I hear. I have heard and read stories about people that have been eaten by pigs (not told by the victims, of course) so I am not taking any chances. The combined weight of the 4 pigs is probably close to 500 pounds so it would be very easy for them to take out a 50-60 pound youngster. Shoot, they almost took me out a week or two ago and I am still limping from being charged at from the side right into my bad knee that was finally starting to feel better. I am now trying to be much more careful when going in the pen to feed them. Hitting them with the feed bucket isn't working so well any more.
So I am the No Fun Mom that won't let her kids play in the pig pen. I guess they will have to go find something else fun to do. Some other things that No Fun Mom has prohibited are: Playing in the horse poop compost pile (only partially composted), playing in the other compost pile (the one with the chicken guts in it), and playing in the tire stacks (had to rescue a kid that got down inside and couldn't get out). Oh yes, and car roof jumping is no longer allowed either. Yep, I am No Fun Mom.
Whatever.
The pigs were getting a little rowdy with the hog panels and they even escaped a few times so my husband decided it was time to put up the electric fence. The pigs thought this was great fun and caused all kinds of havoc tearing down whatever he put up. Adding a few kids into the mix to chase them away from the completed work was even more fun. As soon as one pig distracted the boys on one side of the pen, the others would run to the other side and grab the wire. Until my husband turned it on. They didn't think that little game was so much fun any more. They were soon huddled in the middle of the pig pen in hopes that they would be safe there.
This is the most minor of reasons, mostly because once you touch an electric fence you usually make sure not to make that mistake again. But since I do have some little ones, they aren't allowed to go near it. I hear that farm boys like to pee on the electric fence, but so far my boys are not aware of that activity. I'd like to keep it that way.
Reason #2: See all that brown stuff in there? It's not all dirt.
I don't have a poop phobia, really. I just don't think it is all that smart to take a plastic pvc pipe and scoop up dusty pig pen "dirt" and blow it on your brothers. Once the boys were reminded what they were scooping up and blowing on each other, they didn't think it was all that smart either.
Reason #3: Pigs will eat you if you stand still long enough.
Or so I hear. I have heard and read stories about people that have been eaten by pigs (not told by the victims, of course) so I am not taking any chances. The combined weight of the 4 pigs is probably close to 500 pounds so it would be very easy for them to take out a 50-60 pound youngster. Shoot, they almost took me out a week or two ago and I am still limping from being charged at from the side right into my bad knee that was finally starting to feel better. I am now trying to be much more careful when going in the pen to feed them. Hitting them with the feed bucket isn't working so well any more.
So I am the No Fun Mom that won't let her kids play in the pig pen. I guess they will have to go find something else fun to do. Some other things that No Fun Mom has prohibited are: Playing in the horse poop compost pile (only partially composted), playing in the other compost pile (the one with the chicken guts in it), and playing in the tire stacks (had to rescue a kid that got down inside and couldn't get out). Oh yes, and car roof jumping is no longer allowed either. Yep, I am No Fun Mom.
Whatever.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Home Ec
Ever take home economics in school? I did. In 7th or 8th grade we were required to take a semester long class that covered cooking and sewing. Those are the only two things I can remember, that is. We had to make a felt pillow from a kit--I made a hamburger because it looked the hardest. It took me all of about 10 minutes to make, since I was already far beyond beginning sewing level, even at that age. I was bored stiff in that class because I already knew how to cook and sew.
Now I have a daughter in 8th grade. She is a very creative, crafty (in a good sense) person. So I picked out a home ec "curriculum" for her. Really, we don't need a formal curriculum to teach cooking and crafts, but she is someone that loves a schedule. Also, though it pains me to admit it, I haven't been all that great about allowing her to cook or teaching her to sew. I always plan to do it later. You know, when I am not so busy. Of course, when later comes (which is just about never) all I want to do is relax.
The book I chose to use breaks the year up into 6 different sections. One is just some reading about young ladyhood. The others are cooking, gardening, knitting, greeting card making, and sewing. She has been making lunch, or part of lunch, once a week. We have had applesauce muffins, banana bread, scones, and quesadillas with homemade whole wheat tortillas. Last week she made veggies and dip.
This week's recipe is fruit and fruit dip. Easy stuff, but she is in heaven.
I didn't get a picture before the kids got to it. Trust me, it was arranged very nicely.
She really doesn't need cooking lessons. This is the kid that I can tell as I am walking out the door to feed the animals in the morning--"Fry up some eggs for breakfast, would you?" or as I am leaving to go pick up her brother at the bus--"Cut up some potatoes and put them in the oven, please." If she doesn't know how to do something, she can usually figure it out. BUT, like I mentioned before, it is letting her do it on a regular basis that is the problem. This is one way to do it.
Anyway, we are starting the knitting unit. I can do all the other things except knitting. I have decided that I am knitting challenged. Even if I can decipher the instructions, my knitting still looks all lumpy and uneven. Yesterday while waiting for my oldest son at the bus stop I pulled out the yarn and needles I had just purchased. I thought I would figure out this knitting thing a little before having to show 13 year old daughter how it is done.
R-i-i-i-p
Who knew that casting on isn't just something you can just figure out? I guess directions are needed, although the second attempt, using directions, wasn't much better.
R-i-i-i-p
Maybe the problem is lumpy yarn. It is a little thick and lumpy so it is hard to pull through and make it loose enough. We may have to get out some simpler yarn. Not only that, but whose idea was it to get connected needles? How awkward.
My daughter is going to make a headband out of this lovely yarn, assuming I can get her started on it. As for me, I think I will stick to making gymnastics leotards. Sewing them, that is. Not knitting.
Now I have a daughter in 8th grade. She is a very creative, crafty (in a good sense) person. So I picked out a home ec "curriculum" for her. Really, we don't need a formal curriculum to teach cooking and crafts, but she is someone that loves a schedule. Also, though it pains me to admit it, I haven't been all that great about allowing her to cook or teaching her to sew. I always plan to do it later. You know, when I am not so busy. Of course, when later comes (which is just about never) all I want to do is relax.
The book I chose to use breaks the year up into 6 different sections. One is just some reading about young ladyhood. The others are cooking, gardening, knitting, greeting card making, and sewing. She has been making lunch, or part of lunch, once a week. We have had applesauce muffins, banana bread, scones, and quesadillas with homemade whole wheat tortillas. Last week she made veggies and dip.
This week's recipe is fruit and fruit dip. Easy stuff, but she is in heaven.
I didn't get a picture before the kids got to it. Trust me, it was arranged very nicely.
She really doesn't need cooking lessons. This is the kid that I can tell as I am walking out the door to feed the animals in the morning--"Fry up some eggs for breakfast, would you?" or as I am leaving to go pick up her brother at the bus--"Cut up some potatoes and put them in the oven, please." If she doesn't know how to do something, she can usually figure it out. BUT, like I mentioned before, it is letting her do it on a regular basis that is the problem. This is one way to do it.
Anyway, we are starting the knitting unit. I can do all the other things except knitting. I have decided that I am knitting challenged. Even if I can decipher the instructions, my knitting still looks all lumpy and uneven. Yesterday while waiting for my oldest son at the bus stop I pulled out the yarn and needles I had just purchased. I thought I would figure out this knitting thing a little before having to show 13 year old daughter how it is done.
Who knew that casting on isn't just something you can just figure out? I guess directions are needed, although the second attempt, using directions, wasn't much better.
Maybe the problem is lumpy yarn. It is a little thick and lumpy so it is hard to pull through and make it loose enough. We may have to get out some simpler yarn. Not only that, but whose idea was it to get connected needles? How awkward.
My daughter is going to make a headband out of this lovely yarn, assuming I can get her started on it. As for me, I think I will stick to making gymnastics leotards. Sewing them, that is. Not knitting.
Friday, October 13, 2006
3.6
My oldest son brought home his first report card of the year this week. His school breaks the year up into 4 week cycles, to give parents a better handle on their kid's progress, I guess.
So his GPA was a 3.6. "Hmm, look at that," I said.
"Is that good?" he asked, "I didn't do so good in writing."
He got a B in writing. Far be it from me to let him know I am thrilled with a B in writing, if he feels the need to get a better grade. "I'll do better next time since now I understand what he wants from us," he said.
"That'll be good," I said. I also told him that I thought a 3.6 GPA was fine. But really, given the fact that all they did in the first 4 weeks was PT(A), Health(B+), Writing(B), and Military Science(A) (which he was absent for most of due to hunting and was only "learning through life" and "construction math" --where they learned about converting fractions to decimals, and a few other VERY elementary math lessons), I can't get too excited yet.
This cycle they have added in History, Algebra II, and Chemistry/Physics. He is also teaching algebra I to his classmates. He seems to love it, which surprises me, given that he is so shy. In science he is one of 4 students (the rest are seniors) that are studying ballistics. He is going to do an experiment involving shooting off a rocket. I ordered his rocket a few days ago and he is very antsy for it to get here. His experiment will be distance traveled at different angles of trajectory. The inspiration for this project comes from watching the movie October Sky.
His dad and I tried to convince him to build a punkin chunkin cannon, but that was a no go. Probably best, since he has only a few weeks to finish the project.
I can't see this school lasting him much longer, and we will be looking into other options for next year. I want him to do well academically, but not at the expense of his learning. Doing well in an easy class is great for the ego, but I think if he keeps achieving without a struggle or challenge he will eventually get bored and stop working. Also, the school he is attending is full of screw ups and underachievers (sorry, but it is true) who think ALL schoolwork is dumb, boring, and a waste of time. How long can a good kid who is out to learn all he can be bombarded with that attitude before he picks it up himself?
When that happens, it will be time to move on.
So his GPA was a 3.6. "Hmm, look at that," I said.
"Is that good?" he asked, "I didn't do so good in writing."
He got a B in writing. Far be it from me to let him know I am thrilled with a B in writing, if he feels the need to get a better grade. "I'll do better next time since now I understand what he wants from us," he said.
"That'll be good," I said. I also told him that I thought a 3.6 GPA was fine. But really, given the fact that all they did in the first 4 weeks was PT(A), Health(B+), Writing(B), and Military Science(A) (which he was absent for most of due to hunting and was only "learning through life" and "construction math" --where they learned about converting fractions to decimals, and a few other VERY elementary math lessons), I can't get too excited yet.
This cycle they have added in History, Algebra II, and Chemistry/Physics. He is also teaching algebra I to his classmates. He seems to love it, which surprises me, given that he is so shy. In science he is one of 4 students (the rest are seniors) that are studying ballistics. He is going to do an experiment involving shooting off a rocket. I ordered his rocket a few days ago and he is very antsy for it to get here. His experiment will be distance traveled at different angles of trajectory. The inspiration for this project comes from watching the movie October Sky.
His dad and I tried to convince him to build a punkin chunkin cannon, but that was a no go. Probably best, since he has only a few weeks to finish the project.
I can't see this school lasting him much longer, and we will be looking into other options for next year. I want him to do well academically, but not at the expense of his learning. Doing well in an easy class is great for the ego, but I think if he keeps achieving without a struggle or challenge he will eventually get bored and stop working. Also, the school he is attending is full of screw ups and underachievers (sorry, but it is true) who think ALL schoolwork is dumb, boring, and a waste of time. How long can a good kid who is out to learn all he can be bombarded with that attitude before he picks it up himself?
When that happens, it will be time to move on.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Gathering Eggs
Something I have been doing a lot of lately. I have 17 old hens, and about 30 new ones. The new hens are just over 5 months old so they are starting to lay eggs.
Problem: The eggs are very small. Another problem: The chickens aren't penned up so it is anyone's guess where the eggs end up. Some in the hen house, some in the middle of the field, some nestled in the corner of a stall in the barn. Twice now I have come upon a nest of more than 15 eggs. Eggs can last without being refridgerated for about 2 weeks so I am not worried that the eggs are bad. However, I can't sell the eggs because they are too small, so I have a drawer in my refridgerator with about 4 dozen little eggs in it.
Even the bantie hens have started laying. Now their eggs are really small.
Those little eggs are so cute. They are even cuter when in the frying pan:
Even the turkeys are starting to lay eggs. Right now their eggs are about the size of a regular sized chicken egg. They are a little rounder and speckled.
So I have a boatload of eggs. LOTS AND LOTS of eggs. Oh, except the kind I need--regular sized chicken eggs. My big chickens seem to have picked up the nasty habit of eating their own eggs. Some days if I am on the ball I can get 6-8 eggs from them. If I don't get out there quick enough, I may get 2.
I have told them that eating eggs is a habit that will get you put into the stew pot, but they don't seem to be listening. Yet.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Wanna see something gross?
Do ya?
Really?
No?
Yes?
My husband came home with a deer. This isn't the gross thing, by the way. They came home early (4am) this morning. One deer, three hunters. Dirty clothes, stinky people.
Look at that tongue--isn't that gross?
Somehow my husband has managed to get out of cutting up the deer. HE gets to go to Florida, to a transmission convention. At Disney World. Excuse me while I go kick his hiney.
Really?
No?
Yes?
My husband came home with a deer. This isn't the gross thing, by the way. They came home early (4am) this morning. One deer, three hunters. Dirty clothes, stinky people.
Look at that tongue--isn't that gross?
Somehow my husband has managed to get out of cutting up the deer. HE gets to go to Florida, to a transmission convention. At Disney World. Excuse me while I go kick his hiney.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Strawberry Hat
I figured I ought to mention the strawberry hat. I made a shameless plea for my sister, Irie, to make my little guy a hat. She talks about the hat here:Berry. I have another strawberry hat that was made for my now 9 year old by a good friend of my mom's. The poor hat has been loved so much, especially by my current 3 year old, that it will not fit my littlest guy. It has been too stretched out. So, my berry talented sister knitted him up a hat. Ha ha, why learn to knit when there are people that you can coerce into doing it for you? Hmm, I think I am in need of a hat to match the nice scarf you knitted me last winter, sis, what do you think?
Apparently, she also made my little nephew a pumpkin hat. I love it! It appears that it is being used as a cover up for a bad haircut, which is a perfectly acceptable use for these cuter than cute hats. I haven't seen the haircut yet so I haven't made a personal judgement as to its badness yet, by the way.
Alas, my little red head doesn't have enough hair to warrant a haircut, therefore eliminating the need for a bad haircut cover up, so he is limited to wearing his strawberry hat outside when the weather is cool.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Peaches and Pears
From this:
To this:
To this. 26 quarts of peaches, 18 quarts of pears.
All that and a soccer game on a nice Saturday.
To this:
To this. 26 quarts of peaches, 18 quarts of pears.
All that and a soccer game on a nice Saturday.
Friday, September 29, 2006
This morning
This morning I only have 4 kids at home. Two left at 4:30am for a hunting trip with their dad and two stayed the night with friends. That leaves four. Naturally it would be the four youngest.
I had some coupons I needed to use up so I decided to go to a few local farms to spend them. When we were walking through a little room full of big boxes of produce I heard 5 year old son say "Mom, Look!" I looked and there they were. The hugest, most gigantic apples in the world.
The variety is Honey ___________--something, I can't remember. Gold, maybe. The apples are enormous. It is hard to tell from the picture, but the smallest one is bigger than a regular sized apple. So I let each little one (except the baby) pick one out. The big one is the 5 year old's. He only ate half of it for lunch and is saving the rest for a snack later today.
I also picked up a box of pears and two boxes of peaches for canning. As if I have time to can. Ah well, anything to fill my lonely days to keep from pining away for my husband...
I had some coupons I needed to use up so I decided to go to a few local farms to spend them. When we were walking through a little room full of big boxes of produce I heard 5 year old son say "Mom, Look!" I looked and there they were. The hugest, most gigantic apples in the world.
The variety is Honey ___________--something, I can't remember. Gold, maybe. The apples are enormous. It is hard to tell from the picture, but the smallest one is bigger than a regular sized apple. So I let each little one (except the baby) pick one out. The big one is the 5 year old's. He only ate half of it for lunch and is saving the rest for a snack later today.
I also picked up a box of pears and two boxes of peaches for canning. As if I have time to can. Ah well, anything to fill my lonely days to keep from pining away for my husband...
Thursday, September 28, 2006
If you hear a very long, very loud, shrill scream...
...it is just me. Pay no attention. You may understand when I tell you I have a son with his driver's permit.
He goes to school at Willamette Leadership Academy so he must be dropped off and picked up at the bus stop every day. This affords him plenty of opportunities to drive with me in the car. Oh, goody.
I am not a good person to teach someone to drive. I could be what you might call--uptight. Slightly. I told my husband: "YOU are going to have to teach him to drive. I CAN NOT do it." Well, he does get to drive with his dad. They leave home for a 20 minute drive and they are gone for an hour. I call because I think they have been in a wreck.
Me: Where are you?
Husband: Driving around.
Me: You said you were going to be gone 20 minutes. What are you doing?
Husband: We missed a few turns. He is looking for a place to turn around.
That is always what happens. They are always looking for a place to turn around when I call. Our driving instruction methods differ, I think.
His: Tell kid where they are going. Show him where he was supposed to turn as they pass it. Kid gets flustered. Tries to find a place to turn around. Picks the wrong place. Finally gets turned around. Tries to change lanes but doesn't look first so he almost hits someone. His dad says he missed the turn again.
Is it any wonder the driving lesson takes an hour?
Mine: Tell kid where we are going. Say: "Stop here. Pull forward enough so you can see. Go, there aren't any cars coming. Take your foot off the gas when you shift. We are turning right up here in a mile so be prepared. Slow down. Slow down. :::scream::: SLOW DOWN! Turn. You could accelerate a little faster, you know. Stay in your own lane when you go around a corner (even if he is, it doesn't hurt to remind him). Watch the stop light. Slow down. Stop. Stop. :::scream::: STOP! Don't stop so far back from the line." You get the idea. I never shut up.
Is it any wonder that the poor kid has been declining to drive with me lately?
Hot dog! It worked!
He goes to school at Willamette Leadership Academy so he must be dropped off and picked up at the bus stop every day. This affords him plenty of opportunities to drive with me in the car. Oh, goody.
I am not a good person to teach someone to drive. I could be what you might call--uptight. Slightly. I told my husband: "YOU are going to have to teach him to drive. I CAN NOT do it." Well, he does get to drive with his dad. They leave home for a 20 minute drive and they are gone for an hour. I call because I think they have been in a wreck.
Me: Where are you?
Husband: Driving around.
Me: You said you were going to be gone 20 minutes. What are you doing?
Husband: We missed a few turns. He is looking for a place to turn around.
That is always what happens. They are always looking for a place to turn around when I call. Our driving instruction methods differ, I think.
His: Tell kid where they are going. Show him where he was supposed to turn as they pass it. Kid gets flustered. Tries to find a place to turn around. Picks the wrong place. Finally gets turned around. Tries to change lanes but doesn't look first so he almost hits someone. His dad says he missed the turn again.
Is it any wonder the driving lesson takes an hour?
Mine: Tell kid where we are going. Say: "Stop here. Pull forward enough so you can see. Go, there aren't any cars coming. Take your foot off the gas when you shift. We are turning right up here in a mile so be prepared. Slow down. Slow down. :::scream::: SLOW DOWN! Turn. You could accelerate a little faster, you know. Stay in your own lane when you go around a corner (even if he is, it doesn't hurt to remind him). Watch the stop light. Slow down. Stop. Stop. :::scream::: STOP! Don't stop so far back from the line." You get the idea. I never shut up.
Is it any wonder that the poor kid has been declining to drive with me lately?
Hot dog! It worked!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Soccer
Was it my idea to sign my kids up for soccer? If so, WHY??? I don't like soccer. I don't like to watch it, I don't like to hear about it, and I don't like spending any time whatsoever on it. Negativity abounds when it comes to soccer.
Four days a week we have soccer practice. Tuesday and Thursday for 7 year old son, and Wednesday and Friday for 9 year old son. As if the torture of 4-5 hours of soccer isn't enough, they have games to attend. Between the two of them sometimes we have 4 games in one weekend. I. Am. Going. To. Die. Of boredom.
I have a daughter in gymnastics. I love gymnastics. I could watch gymnastics all day and not be bored. In fact, last Saturday I did watch gymnastics all day. And I wasn't bored. At all. A little tired maybe, but not bored. I don't even have to be watching my own kid do gymnastics. Anyone will do.
I have a daughter taking horseback riding lessons. I love horses. I could watch horseback riding for a little while without being bored. Not all day, but for a while. I even enjoy hearing every last detail of her lesson when she gets home. She can follow me around the house recounting her experience to the minute and I really don't mind.
I don't think it is the boy/girl thing either. Last year I had a daughter in soccer, and I didn't like it then either. So it is just soccer that I can't stand.
Later this week, I am on my own. Three family members are going hunting and I am going to be left here with 6 kids and afternoons full of gymnastics practice, soccer practice (ugh), and soccer games (double ugh). Normally, I can at least go to the practices alone and get a little time to myself to read my book. Even better, I can send my husband. But not for the next week. No, I get to take all the kids with me. My joy is complete. It will be even more complete if it rains.
The thing is, in the midst of all my complaining about soccer, that my kids do love to play soccer. It is good for them. It gets them outside, running around getting lots of exercise. It gives them something to be enthusiastic about. It gives them people to look forward to seeing. It gives them something to talk about (on, and on, and on...). So I guess I am willing to buck up and pretend to be enthusiastic about the subject too. I make sure to look up from my book a few times during practice so I can comment later. I can keep all of my complaining about soccer confined to times and places that they won't see or hear. I am willing to take snacks for the team and show up at practices and games on time. I will wash those stinky, sweaty, nasty soccer socks. I will even try not to get too crabby about having to wake a sleeping baby in order to go to a soccer game. I will not, however, stand at the side lines yelling and screaming at my kid to "HUSTLE!!" or "PUSH THE BALL UP THE FIELD!!" or (love this one) "KICK THE BALL!!" Isn't that the point of the soccer game?
GO CRUSHERS! GO STRIKERS!!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
More On Garage Building
We have been busy this weekend building on the garage. The stairs have been temporarily abandoned since the support beam is up. I pray to God it is in the right place. Now to move on to bigger and better things--Trusses!
We had to buy engineered trusses--another one of those city planning department things that make you roll your eyes and mutter "whatever"--and they were delivered Wednesday. They actually come with directions on how to put them up, though they were pretty vague and assume we know more than we do.
Notice the large Warning at the top. It goes on to warn that "the consequences of improper handling, installing, and bracing may be a collapse of the structure, or worse, serious personal injury or death." Great. I'm wishing I hadn't read the directions since all it did for me was make me fear for my life.
I took a stealth photo of my husband consulting with the neighbor(who is not named Mr. Wilson) on how to erect the trusses.
My husband, oldest son, and myself put the trusses up all by ourselves. It was a little hairy doing the first 2 before we had good bracing, but there were only a few screams (me) and "it's going to fall over and we're all gonna DIE!" (me again) was said just once. Just kidding, I didn't really say that. I only thought it.
First the truss is put into position then lifted into place with a very complex tool. A 2x4 with a little piece of wood nailed to it. The people on each end hold the truss while it is being lifted by a third person. Person three has to be careful not to fall through the hole left for the stairs. Then person one climbs up on the ladder and nails the bracing board to the truss at the proper distance from the one next to it. Next, that person nails the truss at the walls and readies the next truss while the second person grabs some brackets to nail up while she is waiting. The third person stands there holding the lifting board, waving it around and being annoying until person one snaps at him. Once 5 trusses are up then the waferboard sheeting goes on to make them sturdy.
The sun was going down so we only got one more piece of waferboard on before it was too dark to work. It was a very satisfying day.
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