And finally...

We have finally posted the lesson plans I had promised.

PS: I just realized that the PDF effectively hides the links to the free materials. So, I have posted them here.

Unit 1

I haven't forgotten -- I really have been working on the curriculum and planning to post it here. It's just that as soon as I realized I'd been bitten by the "curriculum bug", I also started to have an urge to slow things way down. I have been busy deleting sections and moving others to later in the year so that the boys can build up a head of steam slowly.

I asked Rod to post unit 1 so I could post a link to it, which he very sweetly did today -- and of course when I opened it to copy the link, the first thing I saw an error! I'll ask him to teach me to do that and I will post the link later this evening.

Unit 2 will be up soon after. (It's just about done, too.)

Jack has had quite a week. Such a big week, as a matter of fact, that he just woke up for a 16 hour snooze,which follows a couple of days of being wound very tight and jittery.

It all started with reading Dar and the Spear Thrower by Marjorie Cowley. This was a fascinating coming of age story about, Dar, a young Cro Magnon on the verge of his manhood ceremony. (Age 13 or so). It was on our book stack because it takes place in the paleolithic and is of a good reading level for Jack, but it addresses a lot of questions a young boy might have about what it means to be a man. Jack loves the book, and it left us both sad as we closed the book on the last chapter -- that feeling you have at the end of a really good book that a dear friend has moved away. Jack is sure there have to be more Dar books or a movie--though I haven't been abel to find them, if they exist. But the book also brought some growing up issues to Jack's attention and he has wrestled with some of those. (We agree that we're both really glad that in our culture, men don't need "man-marks".)

I had planned on something significantly lighter after the challenges -- pleasant as they were -- that Dar posed, but the next night Jack absolutely insisted on pulling a biography of Helen Keller out from far down the stack and reading that for our bedtime story. Now, this biography was intended for very young children so it wasn't too overly emotionally demanding, focussing mainly on Helen's bravery and accomplishments, and her work on behalf of the similarly handicapped, but Jack seems to be at a sensitive moment when the challenge of growing up unable to see or hear really struck him much more deeply than I expected it to at five. He verified that he had had the measles vaccine (the actual diagnosis of the disease that caused the high fever that robbed Keller of her sight and hearing as an infacnt has never been established as far as I know, but measles was what I was told as a child and what I shared with Jack) and then he became very quiet and contemplative.

Then, yesterday, we went with Grandpa John to the Detroit Institute of Art, where we wandered through the medieval section on our way to the ancient Greek and Rome exhibit, and where Jack noticed for the first time the statues of Jesus on the cross. He had a lot of questions about who that was, who killed him in such a gruesome way, and why, which Rod and I did our best to answer. Then we went back to John's house for a light picnic of dried fruit, nuts, and chips, where jack's jitters reached fever pitch.

(By jitters, I mean a constant chant of"Look at me! See what I can do?" as he raced around and tumbled and chattered at a non-stop fever pitched pace. Normal for some of our childre, but very unusual for Jack.)

We hadn't reached the expressway yet when Jack was asleep in his boster seat at around 5:45 or 6pm. I put him on the rug in the parlour to wake up slowly, I thought, but he slept through dinner and cleanup and then I carried him upstairs and put him to bed. He asked me to take off his shoes, and then slept through my preparations for bed. He woke up when I got up for a moment in the middle of the night -- but only long enough to ask me how much longer it would be night. I told him that I would be happy if he could rest another hour or two -- but when I got up three hours later, he was still sound asleep. Rod says he finally woke up at about 9:15.

I think a pretty carefree week would be best, if we can arrnage it for him. He has quite a few "grownup concerns" to chew threw and make sense of and I don't want to overwhelm him, if we can help him. Between Mr. Mark being in the hospital and so many of our friends and relatives being sick, this wouldn't have been the time I would have chosen for him to notice all of this. Then again, he has a very solid foundation from which to handle it, and I believe that if he wasn't in some sense "ready" he would have continued to be oblivious to the challenging these experiences offered.

Probably not a bad idea to keep an eye on his health, too. He might be coming down with something. Jack usually does herald new developmental levels with a cold or a flu.

One year later

If you've been visitng Chez Smiffy for a while, you may remember my trauma at having my hair cut last year at about this time.

My hair had grown quite long and I loved it -- but between health issues and chlorinated water, it had grown very thin and crunchy.

So, I asked Rod to cut it back to where the hair looked reasonably even and not too badly damaged. Still long by most standards, I guess -- but it broke my heart.

And now a year later, it isn't quite back to where it was, but it looks a lot more even than it did and I am gaining ground.

The Voice of the Gods

Jack and I were preserving peaches this morning.

He was contemplatively dropping ice cubes into the cooling bath for the blanched peaches, and we were listening to a Beethoven choral piece.
Jack looked up at me with a dreamy look on his face and said

"That's the voices of the Gods and Goddesses singing, you know."

No, I hadn't known. But I do now.

Thank you, my son.

My poor, poor VitaMix!

It's been 'that kind' of a day.

My vitamix pitcher lept off the counter this afternoon in an evident fit of despair and overwork!

The spigot broke off the pitcher, making it useless for the time being. The VitaMix, however, is a simplicity devotee's dream. All of the parts are easy to replace and available at minimal cost. Sadly, while it is only $8 for a new part, our credit information was stolen over the weekend, so we don't have a card with which to order it, and so the poor thing may be out of service through much of canning season. I am *so* grateful that we already have a bushel of romas put by as sauce. I was hoping to make at least one more bushel, but we can do stewed tomatoes and chunky applesauce and count ourselves lucky. It also means no more baking for a while, but we're going to be pretty bust for the next few weeks anyway. (Ironically, the co-op just called to say that our latest shipment of wheat is in.)

I was looking over the company web site and realized that my poor old beast was discontinued in the mid 1980s. I wonder how much longer the parts will be available. It has crossed my mind from time to time that I would like to get another pitcher and a selection of spare parts so I will have them if I need them. They still supply some parts to models even from the 1950s, but they did eventually discontinue parts for the machines from the 1930 and 1940s.

This comes on top of our somewhat dramatic decision late last night to take one more step back toward the 19th century. We will be selling the spare car, and turning off the Internet and telephone. (We will be taking advantage of the very 21st century idea of going completely to cell-phones, but in this case only Rod will have a phone with a plan. My phone will remain on the pay-as-you go plan and be for emergencies only.)

We've decided that time has come to make more of a commitment to a simple lifestyle, and these are the steps we can see living with right now. It won' be easy, but I think it will be worth while.

A bit of this and a bit of that

The days are growing shorter and the light is thinning and fading, even as the heat of late summer remains. Somehow I seem to have missed summer.

I didn't get out much to enjoy the outdoors this year. There always seemed to be something more pressing to do -- and even the times I did get out there weren't very soothing this year for some reason.

Maybe it was stress. The trends continue. (Rod's older brother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer late this spring and we just heard that the friend who has been facing leukemia with her 'just turned 3' son is also facing cancer with her mother. These are diagnoses, and there is still plenty of hope, but it adds worry to the already mounting loss. Mark is doing much better this time than he did last autumn, but we can't help worry about him. John is doing lots better, but we can't help but worry about him.) Stress can certainly distract us from being in the moment and enjoying nature.

Maybe it was the drought that we're having this year. We have had some rain this summer, though none lately, but it wasn't as much as we're used to. The grass is brown and crunchy under our feet and not nearly as much fun as it usually is. The smaller plants are hanging on tenuously if at all, and even the deep rooted trees are looking very, very distressed. We are watering the fruit trees, but everything else is just having to hang on the best it can. On the bright side, that has also meant that the garden plot, which never did get any plants, took Jack and I about 6 minutes to weed yesterday -- and that was the first time this year that we've done that.

We postponed painting the bedroom this weekend (again) in favour of canning a bushel of local Romas as sauce and freezing two lugs of local blueberries. I may have missed summer, but I'll be darned if I am also going to miss autumn - - especially this year, when the price of food this winter is predicted to rise to outrageous level, what with the cost of corn (not a big part of our diet, but it means that the cost of everything else will rise to take up the slack for unaffordable corn reliant products), the cost of fuel (again, we try to eat mostly local but the competition for local products will be stronger this year), and the very, very bad growing season. (It was too wet to plant until very late in the spring, and it has been too dry since then.) We can paint when there is no more produce to preserve. ;) Besides, canning is one of the things we can do that adds a sense of normalcy to our unsettled mood.

Jack was a big part of the canning project this year, and I couldn't help comparing this year to the first year we did any canning. Jack was a newborn that first year, and Rod and I had to take turns working because Jack wanted to be held (and, mostly, nursed) constantly. This year from the washing of the produce, to the chopping, to the pureeing of the sauce to filling of the vat of sauce and the stirring, Jack was an extra sets of hands a and a real help. Jack's cooking is no longer just about his experience -- it has become easier to do it with him than without him. Wow. I can't believe that went so fast!

We discovered this weekend that our credit information has been stolen. We found out within a couple of hours, so the damage was minimal and we haven't actually lost anything -- but it does mean that we're doing commerce on a cash basis, with one ATM card between us. That certainly cramps our style. ;) Cancelling the card meant that part of the order for the last of the school books that had gone in, but had not yet been billed, has been cancelled. We'll have to wait a while, see what comes, and then reorder the ones we still need. (I don't know what I was thinking, but I deleted the messages from the online booksellers notifying me of which orders had been cancelled.) Fortunately, the library has the most critical one and the parts I need are few enough that I can copy those pages and print them out to add to our reader.

I have compiled and printed the readers for both units 1 and 2, and I am just about done with the checklists, so then Rod will have what he needs when he's ready. (And I will publish them for anyone who is interested to have a look at.) It's interesting that, even knowing about the danger of "resource creep" (where the planning never ends because just as you think you're done, you hear about yet another amazing resource you want to add) I fell afoul of it. I have drawn a line in the sand and said "Unit 1 is complete as soon as I add the things I have already gotten". Anything else will have to be added to a later unit or not at all because there really are some cool resources out there.

Have you ever noticed that very few books for kids make school sound like any fun at all? From Pinnocio to Tom Sawyer, to the Bobbsey Twins, to Beezus and Romona and Laura and Mary of the Prairie, it's as though the world is in on a secret campaign to promote homeschooling! Unfortunately, that has tainted the word "school" for Jack and he has declared that "school is boring, stupid, and junk!" and he is resisting starting on his formal lessons this fall. Since he has eagerly gobbled up what I have introduced so far, I think he really is going to enjoy it -- but perhaps we'd best come up with a new name for what we're doing.

Jack talked me into going to play miniature golf this weekend. I have never enjoyed it before, but for one reason or another, it was actually quite pleasant...in spite of my starting to play on the last hole and losing my ball immediately. Jack and I shared his ball for several more holes, and then I decided to focus on just taking pictures. Jack was a lot better at it than I expected him to be, though his style could use some work. We had fun, and we've decided that next time. we're going to get three balls because one went too fast. Then we went out for ice cream, and came home and drew pictures together until bedtime. Lucky for us, Dad came home bearing fast food for all, because we completely forgot to have dinner!

I mentioned a while back that Rod has gone off his blood pressure medication completely and (we think for the moment) permanently. I have to say that having him fully functional has been wonderful! And he's working with a naturopath to try and get at the underlying cause of the high blood pressure and resolve that. It's been several weeks, and we are beginning to see a real improvement. Not in his blood pressure -- if he's checking that, I have no idea what he's seen -- but in his overall health. Rod's feet have been swollen and a worrying shade of blue as long as I have known him. I noticed yesterday that the swelling is down (though not gone) and his feet were PINK -- really, really pink and healthy looking! I am so excited! Even more exciting is that I noticed because he commented that his legs and feet felt so light and energetic -- more than they had in years! He has a new spring in his step that tells the tale and hasn't needed to sit down and rest nearly as often as he was having to just a few weeks ago. I can't help but think that this obvious sign of improved circulation has to be good for his circulatory system as well as his feet and I am giddy with delight!

I have gotten about two thirds of the way through the astrology primer I am writing for Jack. As far as I have been able to determine, there are *no* books for the very young about astrology, which strikes me as peculiar. Well, soon, there will be!

I would still like to write the Australian history books for children -- but it has since dawned on me that I know next to nothing, and it will take a serious amount of commitment and research...I'm willing and even eager, but I'm not sure when I will find the time. I'm keeping my eyes open -- maybe someone somewhere, maybe even someone with actual talent, will have the same thought I have and will beat me to it. I hope so.

Gearing up to homeschooling ... Year One

Sorry I've been so quiet.

Mark is doing extremely well. He is healing well and was able to move from the general care floor up to physical therapy today. He is sounding as cheerful as I have heard him sounds in a very long time. I know he's still in pain, but I suspect that the relief that this isn't playing out as a repeat of last winter must be even more of a relief to him than it is for us. Rod is still staying over there with Matt when I'm not at work, and that seems to be working out better for everyone.

Jack is happier about his routine not being so different, now that I am home to spend the evenings with him, as I always do, though he is still very clingy with me and extremely disconcerted to wake up before Rod gets home in the morning. He is also somewhat disconcerted to have reached a height and weight that makes it very, very hard for us to pick him up in a family hug like we used to do. (And as hungry as he's been in the last few days, I think he'll be taller still very shortly.)

Our curriculum is still morphing, but it's getting ever closer to final. The latest big changes are that the more Rod and I have talked about how to work homeschooling into the boys days, the more I have come to feel that it is about covering material thoroughly, not about running races. I have written up the curriculum several times with variants that are intended to address Rod's concerns. Each time I do, I am more satisfied with it.

I think I mentioned a while ago that that we had decided to get away from the whole "scheduling" thing, so I started to rewrite the curriculum in "units" of supporting and progressign materials that could be finished in a month or six weeks -- or could stretch out longer, depending on what was happening.

Once I removed the time limits, I found that there was room for more depth, and so I added a bit more material from here and there.

Then I cam across a book that, while not exactly a "living book" does approach history in the same way we do. It starts history with the big bang...so I am thinking about making that the "core" of our history curriculum. The catch is that there are 70 pages before we get to the Paleolithic, where I had intended to start and around which I had based Unit 1. When Rod mentioned being concerned about how to schedule everything, I started to consider whether we might want to start more slowly. Eventually I renamed Unit 1 and created a new "jump off point" in which the boys will read a couple of stories, but will mostly discuss what history is and recap the history of the world up to the Paleolithic, which Jack is pretty familiar with. They can use the recap to put some icons on the very early timeline and put it all into perspective, but there is far less material to cover and most of it is pretty familiar, so if they want to skip over some things, or speed through them it will be fine. That will give them someplace to start more slowly, and later they can add all the other subjects.

Once we start adding subjects, Rod will let me know which books really work for them and which don't, so we can refine things further and move faster through what remains.

My big regret is that all of this sounds like so much fun that I wish I could play, too!

Election 08 -- Looking for a better idea?

Mark update

We saw Mark last night.

He is exhausted and in intense pain (he refers to it as 'pain storms') but he says the doctors are talking about releasing him soon. From his colour (very pale) and the fact that moving at all sets off a pain storm, I wouldn't think it was likely in the next couple of days -- though next weekend seems within the realm of possibility.

I have been home with Jack this weekend while Rod stayed with Matt, and Jack has been happy as a piggy.

Rod has suggested that it would be least disruptive to Jack if we swap. I will stay with Jack and Rod will stay with Matt. Rod can get here before Jack wakes up, and I can get to work on time, and that will mean that Jack will have his days with Dad and his usual evening routine with Mamma.

We're going to try that.

More updates

The news about Mark continues to be good. When I talked to the staff in the ICU early yesterday, they were planning to move him off ICU and into the general wards since he was seeming to be quite well, aside from the pain. The nurse said "We're keeping him on ICU for 24 hours because the surgery was so invasive that we think it wise to keep him under close observation, but in this case it seems largely a formality."

Things are well here at Mark's place. Matt is able to distract himself from worry with the Olympics, though the deep, anxious furrow to his brow when I bring up his father's progress says volumes. He is very happy with the good news so far, but I can tell that there is an element of "heard that before" to his acceptance of it. That's OK, I have some of that, too.

Since Matt stays busy, I have been getting a fair amount of scrapbooking done -- and tonight, Rod will be here with Matt so I can spend some time with Jack. (Jack has proclaimed loudly that he doesn't miss me at all -- but last time he was angry at me for weeks after I got home. I am expecting the same this time. Fortunately, he a sensible little boy and he only remains angry while Rod is there for backup.)

Progress continues on Unit 1 of our curriculum. We decided that rather than putting a time limit on it, we would put together a unit that, if done consistently, could be done in a month. But if not, we finish when we finish and move on to Unit 2. It's a pretty deep curriculum and more time will actually be to the good. Anyway, I have ordered History Odyssey and once that comes in, I will complete Unit 1 and I will probably put that up on the web for public access. That way our school friends can see what our home school looks like -- and our home school friends can tell us we're crazy. *laugh* Like I said -- it's pretty deep, and Rod has strict orders to tell me what isn't working for them, so it an be dropped from future units. I'll only replace it if we agree that we need something on the topic, but that's not it.

Anyway, on to work...

Mark update

We got news from the surgeon. After seven and a half hours of surgery, Mark was moved to recovery at about 4pm. The surgery went exactly as the surgeon expected, and unless there are any unrecognized neurological complications, Mark is right on schedule to be on his feet and home in a week or two.

I am here at Mark's place with Mark's son, who is relieved beyond words that everything seems to be going so well this time.

I hope to have more good news by tomorrow evening.

Good night, all.

Mark

Our friend, Mark, has been through a lot. He's was widowed young with a special needs little boy to raise on his own, and lately his own health has been challenging.

Last fall, he underwent spinal surgery to free some nerves that had become trapped and to fuse several vertebra. While they were in there, they discovered much bigger problems than they had anticipated. The surgery that should have had him in the hospital for a few days and home for a month recovering took three surgeries and many months in the hospital, and recovery has been slow.

The doctors recently discovered that one reason the recovery has been so slow was that the surgery "didn't take". The problems are serious enough that there is no choice but to go back in and fix the mess.

Needless to say, Mark isn't happy with the prospect. I can't blame him. The doctors are predicting a week or two in the hospital this time. For Mark's sake, and for his son Matthew, I certainly hope this surgery goes better than the last one.

Please add him to your healing work, if you do such things. Mark has been through more than enough!

Grace

An update on Grace.

I mentioned some time ago that Grace had run away.

We haven't seen her since.

Although we haven't seen her and we have no real idea what happened, we all felt a week and a bit ago that she was gone forever. The family story is that she has found someone better to live with, but Jack has started including her in the tally of friends and pets who have died recently, so I think he senses what we do.

So, for the first time in a long, long while, we are a catless family.

Heritage Festival Report

We took Jack to the Ypsilanti Heritage festival last night. It was fun.

Sadly, the reasons I enjoyed it were probably not so good for the festival.

The festival was smaller this year, with fewer vendors and far fewer people in attendance. The weather was perfect -- sunny but reasonably cool, and we were able to walk through the whole festival in about two hours, and at no point did I feel anxious about the number of people I needed to dodge. (I have probably mentioned before that I am not keen on large numbers of people in small spaces.) We even made it over to see the heritage reenactments, though Jack was so uninterested and over stimulated that I had to satisfy myself with a quick walk-by. But that was OK. It's the first time I have managed to get over there at all.

Our main reason for attending the festival, though, was that they had scheduled the fireworks show that was rained out on Independence Day for yesterday evening at Frog Island park. We went early and got premo seats right up front of the amphitheater style seating and on a nice high cement step.

As the evening progressed, it became quite an event -- there was a vendor there selling light sticks and flashing jewelry of various kinds and another vendor selling cotton candy (fairy floss). As the sun set, dozens of children ran through the grass playing with their light sticks and each other, and it got wilder as the light grew dimmer.

Once it started to get dark enough that the children looked like streaks of coloured light flying around, we bought a stick for Jack and he joined the fray.

Jack's ability to make friends any time and any place has always astonished me (he must get that from Rod ) and last night was no different. He was in the thick of it from the first moment and before too long, he was leading more charges than not.

But the thing that really got my attention was that Jack was able to run hard and fast for a couple of hours with few pauses and no evident strain! I could never have done that at 5! His stamina was astonishing!

Getting to be abou that time...

Jack is five, and the "back to school" rush has started.

We, too, are preparing for the start of a new school year. Our first year curriculum is under way and we have the materials for the first one-month unit.

This is so exciting!

Grandpa John is home!!!!

We were beyond excited to hear that John was able to return home yesterday after all!

Never make assumptions about the outcome when a determined witch is involved!

We love you, John!

The art of letters

I write a lot of letters. Perhaps 10 or twelve a month. Most of them are social, a few are business letters or letters to politicians.

I receive far fewer, of course. Only two or three of my recipients are regular corespondents.

Every so often, one of my kids will point out to me that letters are "out of style" as a means of communication, and they will point out that they hang out on messenger looking for me and in a pinch, they drop me an e-mail.

And it is true. I do get a chance to chat with them on messenger reasonably frequently and I do get the occasional e-mail from them.

So, why do I persist in writing letters and sending them off into a vacuum?

I guess a large part of it is that I understand letters to be important. A lot of what we know about history, we have gathered from people's letters. Some of my favorite historical novels are written in the form of correspondence.

Phone calls are good in their place. They're immediate and can be intimate. Certainly the sound of the voice of a loved one is not something I would want to forfeit. But a phone call is ephemeral -- you can't pull a phone call out and read it over and over again. A phone call won't be there for your heirs to read and come to an understanding of who you were 100 years after you're gone. And a phone call may not come at the right time, and so it can be hurried, interrupted, or cut off abruptly.

Messenger, the same. I enjoy the immediacy of it and it certainly makes it easier to communicate regularly. I don't know how I could have survived Jack's first year without messaging. I was at work from the time Jack was six weeks old, and I would have missed his most of his firsts, except that Rod kept me posted all day with quick messages. It wasn't as good as being there, but i didn't feel cut off from what was happening and, ironically perhaps, I was better able to focus on my work because i felt "in touch". But I couldn't pull those messages out today and read them over and over again and they certainly aren't there for posterity. And messenger means you have to be at the computer, something I find I don't have much time for these days.

E-mail is a little more immediate than a paper letter, and certainly quicker to write and send. It's also easier to save to reread. But it can't put you in touch with everyone. At least not yet. Letters can reach anyone who has an address - - not everyone is online and people who don't receive much e-mail don't check their mail often, so it's not a reliable way to keep in touch.

Letters do take a few more moments, a little more trouble, than a quick e-mail. Nothing says "I was thinking about you" like a letter in the mailbox, precisely because it takes a moment to pull out pen and paper - - maybe a few minutes more to handcraft a greeting card -- it takes a few minutes to write legibly whatever is on your mind. It takes a slight effort to get a stamp. All of those moments add up to an unspoke message that the person receiving the letter matters to you. Matters enough to think about them and take a bit of trouble for them when you don't have to.

You can tuck in a tea bag or a photo into a letter and make it "a moment together" when you can't actually be together. You can take the time to say what might not seem important in casual conversation. You can record the days of your life, to be read and reread by someone who cares about you and if you're lucky you can read the 'record of days' and the important thoughts of someone you care about. You can even forge a deeper relationship, even with someone with whom you share four walls.

Everyone still checks the mail box, so your letter will arrive and be found. The letter may not arrive at the right time, but the envelope can sit in a pocket, a sweet promise of a moment together when the time is right.

You can share a letter around the family or amongst friends. That has been the case with letters that my grandfather wrote to his cousin when he was "away at the war". Those letters aren't earth shattering, but their homeliness has spoken volumes across the years to all of his descendants who have read them. One comes away with a sense of the young man who wrote them - -his vocal rhythms, what was important to him, the way he expressed himself. I cherish those letters.

And so, I write letters. Maybe 10 or 12 a month. I don't know whether anyone reads them a second time or saves them. I don't know whether my letters have the same impact on anyone as other peoples letters have had on me. It doesn't matter, really. I write letters and I participate in the written conversation of the ages. I record my dailiness, I ponder things that are important to me, and I take a moment to focus on loved ones and try to forge a slightly closer relationship with people who matter a great deal to me.

In the end, to me, that is the art of letters.

Rod's Video Blog

Rod's been messing around with video-blogging over on astrosage, you might want to check it out...

Some things you just don't want to know...

I am bemused that someone wandered into Chez Smiffy (the blog, not the house) looking for "pictures of Smiffy naked".

No. No, you really don't want to see that; truly you don't.

Sharing your pagan faith with your children

Lately I have been receiving notes from acquaintances and friends asking me about how to share their various pagan faiths with their children. (Obviously I am being mouthy again, else how would they know I have such strong opinions?!?!?)

Anyway, most of us have all grown up "outside the faith" and discovered it as adults.

That can make it tough to figure out how to share paganism with our children. Part of the problem, of course, is that we mostly learned about paganism through books (our intellects) when we first discovered it, and it can be hard to pass that along to small children.

Often we *do* have a strong emotional reaction, especially once we start practicing with a group, but it's not usually a "verbal" emotional reaction...that is, there are still no words that we can use to share the emotional truth, because the only words we have for it won't tell our wee ones much.

Adding to the challenge is that unlike, monotheistic religions, there is no one "catechism" for most pagan religions, so what is important will vary a lot from one group of pagan parents to another, and that means that each family has to decide from scratch what it is we want to teach in the first place. ;)

In many ways the best religious education grows organically from what we do rather than what we teach. While you're working on the "what", try to think back to how your parents taught you about their religion, and then use methods similar to the ones you liked. In the end, those are what will speak to you best and your child might well like them, too.

Now, on to the "what".

One thing we all share is a reverence for nature. Nature Study is a Victorian educational philosophy that a lot of pagan families have adopted and it can help us to help our child develop his or her own reverence. It starts with the noticing of leaf buds, bugs, flowers, etc, and goes on to more involved kinds of noticing and then more involved study of botany and zoology.

We can start with "nature study" just about as soon as the child is old enough to go for walks and then step it up as they're ready for more depth. At 18 months, we'll point out trees and flowers and grass, and ants, and ducks, and dogs. At three, we'll start noticing that there is clover in with the grass, and that ducks like to hang out together and geese like to hang out together, but they don't usually hang out in a big group of mixed water fowl (unless someone is feeding them).

As your child approaches six or seven, you can take nature study to an even greater depth. You can learn more about how formal nature study is done, complete with leaf rubbings and observation journals, on several web sites and Victorian books available free on the web. These are not pagan sources, but you can adapt what you learn:

• Harmony Art Mom has a Green Hour Nature Study Challenge that sort of explains how to do Nature Study.

• The books written 'back when' are out on the web, free for the browsing:Handbook of Nature Study) and (One Hundred Lessons in Nature Study Around My School). (The links take you to sites where you can read online or download the whole book.)

In your noticing, you can point out various herbs you find growing and mention the plant's medical and magickal purposes. Demonstrate how to harvest them properly for tisanes, infusions, and ritual use, and then follow up with a lovely cup of herb tea you harvested yourself. Mint is wonderful, as are raspberry leaf and strawberry leaf.

Beyond nature study, you can introduce the Wheel of the Year at about the age of five. By five, most children have enough memory of previous years to begin to understand the cycle of the seasons and so the wheel of the year. We can discuss casually what Sabbat we are celebrating and what it means in your own particular faith and compare it to the last Sabbat and to the next. Maybe talk about how you celebrated last year and the meaning of what you'll do this year.

Another thing that you can do is create a children's 'Book of Shadows' to cover the religious and spiritual topics that you have discussed with your child so that you can review everything together regularly. Make sure that it has lots of visuals -- drawing, photos, etc.

Chants and simple songs are your teaching friends! If your trad has a collection of poems and chants that you use, they make really superb teaching tools. Five year olds memorize better than anyone else, but children of all ages respond to music and sing alongs! There are chants to cover most important topics, so that can cover a LOT of what you need to do. If your group doesn't use much music, you can get music from Libana (We use A Circle is Cast) and Reclaiming (we like Chants). We don't have it yet, but we also hear great things about Circle Round.

If your group doesn't have trad poems, you can find some cute, kid-friendly poems online at the Bigwood Family site. I particularly like the Kids Charge of the God and the Kids Charge of the Goddess. ;) Read the poems together often, write them in your book of shadows, or use them in ritual with your kids.

Another project is to learn about the altar, if your trad uses one. Examine the stuff on your altar and discuss what each item means. (You might want to leave it at one item per week, and then spend time talking about that thing and finding things that could represent the same idea) and then help your child build his or her own altar on a small table in his room or on a chunk of wood under a tree, or whatever. It's best to let your child use whatever speaks to him -- leaves, toys, stones, etc-- on his altar. Ours is, after all, and "experiential" religion.

One thing to remember, is that it takes a long time for children to internalize lessons they have been exposed to. Present the material, and then leave it alone until they have questions. If we let the process be, they will explore the idea in a thousand-and-one ways on their own, and then blurt it back at us as their own discovery, just when we figure they have forgotten it.

You might like to read books about the old gods from the ancient classics. You can find a lot of them online, free.

Above all, celebrate with your child. If you can, attend public gatherings or bring them to celebrate with your group whenever it's appropriate. If you work alone, include the children in your circle.

I expect there's a lot more to say, but I'm writ dry for now.

Good night.

The Dangers of Plastic Bags

This probably isn't news to you...but it sure is sobering.

A year (or three) of endings and loss

OK, as this year has marched on, Rod has mentioned several times that we are having a Pluto experience.

Pluto, who is mythos, is the Lord of the Underworld. The sweetheart who inspired winter when he kidnapped the sweet young Persephone, causing her mother, Demeter, Goddess of lifer and growth, to grieve for a year.

In astrology, Pluto represents death, loss, destruction, and that slow relentless change that we think of as "aging". He rules my house of security and possessions, one reasons I have always had such a quiet and secure life of plenty. . Pluto is a slow mover. In the last 50 years, he has traveled less than half the distance that the moon travels in a month or than the sun travels in a year.

Anyway, I looked at my chart this morning. Sure enough, the household astrologer was right. Pluto is nearing a conjunction with my natal Saturn. In mythos, Saturn is associated with Chronos, or time. In modern culture we would recognize him as the "old man" in the New Year's pictures of the old man and the baby. Saturn represents rules, strictures, limitations, and responsibilities. Another friendly fellow. He rules my house of daily life and routines.

Anyway, in January 2007 Pluto crept up to within whispering distance of my natal Saturn. Then began the adventure with friends being hospitalized, and later so many deaths and so much sense of loss. There he will stay until late January 2011. (I haven't the heart to check that he doesn't go back over the area after that...he often backtracks and has been wandering back and forth over the sensitive spot for the last two years.)

Once it's over, we can find a new "normal".

*sigh* At least I can see the side of the tunnel. Tunnels have an end.

Beauty

I had one of those interesting days yesterday. The ones where everyone is beautiful.

Now, obviously, around home, that's not surprising. I live with Jack and Rod!

But every so often I have a day when everyone I see strikes me as beautiful. Not "conventionally" beautiful -- these aren't hallucinations, but rather the flashback to 30 years ago, when I was struggling with my self image.

Like most young women, I grew up watching television and reading magazines. I grew up with the ideal of airbrushed beauty and impossible standards. Like many young women, I held myself to that standard of beauty and came up far short.

I was shorter than the "ideal" and a lot softer and rounder (I only became really fat later. Not that I knew that then.) I hated the way I looked and I was depressed, because try as I might, no amount of dieting ever hardened my curves or sharpened my soft features. I used to cry about the need to eat -- at least a drug addict can go cold turkey, but for a dieter, the struggle is eternal. (And in my case fruitless.)

Eventually it dawned on me that I was never going to "succeed". I was far to far from the ideal to ever attain it. About the same time, I started browsing in women's bookstores. I came across books and magazines that talked about those beauty standards and pointed out that they have constantly changed across time and cultures.

As I began to understand that there could be many standards of beauty, I invented a game. I would sit at a bus stop or a public place and watch people. I would study each one for the thing that made them beautiful.

At first it was difficult with some people, but gradually I began to find beauty in almost everyone. I noticed how even coarse, uneven features can be lit up and made really beautiful by a smile. I noticed that a marred complexion often sits over features that are otherwise lovely. I noticed how supposed "imperfections" faded in the face of a dignity of bearing and confidence. I noticed, even more compelling, how otherwise lovely features could be spoiled by an ugly expression.

It became a habit, so that today, I find beauty in most people.

But sometimes the intensity of that beauty is turned up so that I don't just notice it, but I am astonished by it. Yesterday was one of those days. Maybe it's all the loss in our lives lately. Maybe it's a transit.

Whatever it was, it was a comforting thing.

I'm sure almost everyone has seen the Dove Real Beauty campaign. I sure wish this ad had been around when I was a young woman. It could have made the whole understanding thing so much clearer

Update

I have managed to walk almost three miles a day almost every day for the last couple of weeks. I'm glad about that. I feel stronger, walk faster, and it makes me hope that I can see my seventies still leaving the youngters in the dust, like my Mom! Or at least able to keep up with jack as long as he needs me to.

Rod and I went to see Dr Sickels lecture about wholistic care of diabetes last night.

He's very good and very up on his research. (It's so amazing to find a doctor who knows as much about the latest research as I do. My current endocrinologist, Dr Chang, does too -- but she's an endo, so it's excellent but less amazing than it is in a Family Physician.)

Dr Sickels mentioned a few herbs and vitamins I could be taking and why they are helpful, so I will add a few more to my morning collection. Even with all thes tress, I have my average blood sugar back down to 5.3, where I like to keep it. (Normal is between 5 and 7, depending. Diabetes goal is "near 7".) I had been up to 8 sometimes just before I went on insulin, even with everything I tried to do, so this is a big relief, but more herbs and vitamins may help me to cut back on the amount of insulin I need and that would be a very good thing.

I have finally gotten copies of First Language lessons and Simply Grammar to check out and decide which one we want to use. They both seem nice, so I may alternate until Jack shows a clear opinion. We have also gotten Minimus Latin -- well, the student book. We can't afford the teachers book, so I will be pressing my high school Latin into service and hoping for the best.

Grace is missing. She escaped on Tuesday morning and we saw her, but couldn't convince her to come in, as late as Wednesday eveing. But all day yesterday there was no sign of her. I'm worried.

I think this may be what depression feels like.

Everything seems overwhelming and I feel too tired to deal with it, but in a very difefrent way than the hypothyroid exhaustion I am more used to. For one thing, I never, ever have trouble sleeping when I need my thyroid dose adjusted. For another, thinking isn't hard and physical exertion actually makes me feel better for a while. Wierd. I don't feel sad, and I guess a part of me had persisted in equating depression with sadness since they look similar. I do feel "wooden" socially, but any sadness is a reaction to the depression and not a part of it.

I know that this is almost certainly a situational depression, and it's not debilitating, so I am taking some St John's Wort in the morning and we'll see what happens.

Time I was gone - - I'd best hit the showers. Sorry about the whining. I hope to post coherently again soon.

another long night ...

This "awake all night" thing is getting to be a bad habit. So...what's going on? Well...

On July 13, my dear friend, S, was admitted to the hospital after a fainting spell. She was released on Monday the 14th, but they still can't explain the fainting spell, and I am worried about her. (Though she's pretty sure she knows what that was about and is sure it's "no big deal". Still, she's been through a LOT this year.)

On July 14, as S was being released, John was admitted to a different hospital 40 miles away after another fall, though I wasn't to hear about it for several more days. I'm worried about John.

I got word yesterday that my dear friend, Mark, will be going back into the hospital for more surgeries to correct things that went wrong the last time. I'm worried sick about Mark and Matthew.

I got word last night that John will be entering an assisted living facility shortly. You know how I feel about that, although I can't argue with the reasons. They're quite sound. He probably will continue to run if he's not watched round the clock and he probably will continue to hurt himself. It could be *very* serious the next time. It's all true. Nonetheless, John is unlikely to take this well, and wherever the assisted living facility is, it means a long, long drive to get him and return him for our fortnightly adventures.

My back has been cramping for several days, which is probably part of what's keeping me awake.

And I am concerned about Jack's feet. Notice that his weight is resting on his instep and his foot is collapsing inward. He does that on both sides and it's getting more pronounced. Rod talked to the nurse and she says that it's several years yet before they will be concerned, so I am taking him to get some "orthopedic" shoes to see if we can correct it on our own before the mechanical stress on his body starts to cause him trouble. I know that part of my back trouble is probably my own unbalanced (uncorrected) gait.

All of this probably explains why it's been so hard to blog coherently lately.

...on the bright side, no one has died since mid-June. (That I have heard about so far.)

A philosophical question...

A number of situations have come up lately and have me coming back over and over to the same question.

The question is, what exactly do we owe to other people, especially where our health is concerned?

What I mean is, it is very common for people to have opinions about how others should live their lives. What we should be "allowed" to eat, what we should be "allowed" to do or not do that might by some estimations be "bad for us".

Fat people are often scolded publicly for eating "bad" foods.
(Yeah, believe it or not, it's pretty common!) Pizza, ice cream, chips...all foods that are OK for thin people, but let a fat person indulge in public and the scolding food police start in.

But it's not just a fat issue. It's also the elderly.

My friend John loves to run. He has done so every day for, oh, sixty years or something. Running is a big part of how John sees himself.

About 18 months ago, he started toppling over while he was running and he has, several times, done himself serious injuries in his falls. Now the hospital is pressuring John's son, Bill, to put John in assisted living so that he can be prevented from hurting himself.

I certainly understand that instinct to protect him. Really, I do. Especially for strangers who see him persisting in running though he's 80 years old and has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and he hurts himself sometimes when he runs.

But I also look into John's face as he contemplates a life in which he is not only not being able to run, but also "trapped forever" in what he perceives as a prison. The pain I see there is very sobering.

The people who think that John should just stop running don't know him well. They don't understand what running means to him. Bill does understand, but he also loves his father and hates to see him hurt.

I am relieved to see that Bill is looking for a less draconian answer to the problem than incarceration, but I also see the tough spot he is in. Aside from the quandary his own feelings provide , if he doesn't seem to be trying to stop John from hurting himself, as John's guardian he can be seen as legally negligent and interpreted as not a very loving son if he doesn't act to limit John's ability to hurt himself, when my experience of him suggests that Bill loves his father and is as devoted to him as a son can be! Bill understands the pain that never running again will cause to his father and he seeks to find the Sacred Middle Way.

And yet, if John were 30 years old and persisted in bungee jumping or diving into lakes or rivers off bridges (both inherently more dangerous than running) people might cluck, but no one would be insisting that he had to be stopped.

John has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and I'm sure the day may come when he really doesn't understand the danger inherent in his choice to run. In that case, though he will no doubt be angry with me, I would agree that he would not be in a position to make a meaningful choice. Right now, though, that doesn't seem to be the case. In talking with him, I am pretty clear that John acknowledges that running is a dangerous choice, but the pleasure it brings him when it goes well (far more often than when it doesn't) is, to him, worth the risk he takes .

This matter of our "responsibility" to others where our health is concerned has been on my mind a lot. As a fat diabetic, I find that a lot of people seem to have an opinion about what I should be eating and doing. Maybe that colours my opinions and makes them more "libertarian" than they might otherwise be.

I am irritated with how often the press implies that we all *must* follow the latest advise about how to live forever in our little cotton-wool worlds and I am even more dismayed at how pervasive that opinion seems to be. What of a life worth living? What about the fact that life not only shouldn't be risk free - -it *can't* be risk free. No matter what we do, there are risks. (Even if you never leave your own home, you could find a truck coming through the bedroom wall or an airplane coming through your roof. Improbable, yes, but still possible; just read the paper.)

So, what do you think...how much do we owe other people in making choices about our lives? Do we owe it to the people who love us to try to live absolutely safe lives for as long as possible?

Cat shifts?

Minerva spent every night of our lives together sleeping on my hip.

When I rolled over, she stood up and 'rolled me like a log". Then she snarled at me and batted me with her paw for disturbing her. Then she settled down again in as close to the same spot as she could manage.

It was not one of my favorite characteristics of my sweet sook.

Once Minerva died, Grace, who had seldom spent the night in the bedroom at all, decided that my hip was now "her place".

Morning after morning, I wake up with a weight on my hip and wake up from one strange dream or another to find the cat asleep on my hip or my lower back.

Grace isn't as heavy as Minerva was and she's not as insistent. If I start to roll over, she gets off, waits for me to settle down and then chooses her spot again. She doesn't grumble at me for disturbing her and she chooses a place based on where there's enough room for both of us to be comfortable. In many ways she's a lot easier to live with than her "sister" was.

I do wonder, though, what it is that has my hip being "the place to be at night" for the cats in my world.

Maybe I'm just lucky.

My hero

Is there anything sweeter or more heart warming thana sweaty, sweet five-year-old who says

"I'll be your protector tonight, Mamma!"?

No, no, I didn't think there was.

I really think you ought to, you know...

The Silver Leaf Renaissance Faire

I overslept, and I'm about to be late for work, but I wanted to mention the Renaissance Faire we went to yesterday. We had a blast!

We went to the Silver Leaf Renaissance Faire near Battle Creek. It's a bit of a drive, but we thought it was well worth it.

There were shows, vendors, beautiful garb and all that you'd expect. The food was a bit short of mediocre just like you'd expect, but the prices were reasonable and the people were enthusiastic, friendly, and talented. The crowds were big enough for a sense of busy-ness, but small enough to be a backdrop for ones own fun rather than a miserable impediment to doing anything or moving. And there was shade -- lots and lots of shade!!!!

Hmmm. I'm not sure that this was very convincing -- I'm sleepy (pre-caffeinated, even) and running late -- go see their web site, and if you're looking for chance to see knights and ladies and hand crafts and fun--give it a try!

They run on weekends, through August third.

(No, we were having so much fun we forgot to use the camera we brought...that's on old one from Australia.)

Happy birthday, Mr Smiffy

Rod is celebrating his birthday today.

And I am celebrating, too. What a guy!

Grandpa John

Our dear friend, "Grandpa" John Morris, has been in the hospital since Monday.

I finally heard on Wednesday night that he had been injured in a fall. Last night, I finally heard that he is in intensive care with bleeding on the brain.

I'm worried about our dear friend and it grates that I shan't be able to visit until Saturday. (I could go after work, but by the time I get there it is well past John's bedtime and he's too sleepy to enjoy a visit.)

Please join me in sending strength and healing.

Planning ahead...

The bedtime story has been read. (We're reading Blitz, and poor Blitz has ha a hard time of it in tonight's chapters.)

It's lights out, but Jack is clearly deep in thought."Know what, Mamma?"

"What, Jack?"

"When I grow up, I am going to live three doors down from you."
"Oh, that's a wonderful idea Jack! And will you come for dinner every Sunday?"

"Sure! Can my partner come?"

"Of, course! I'd be disappointed if your partner didn't come."
"And my kids?"

"Oh gee, I don't know, jack. How many kids are we talking about?"

"Three."

"Sure, you can bring your three kids."

"Good."
long pause, duing which I think Jack has fallen asleep*

"Mamma, when is Sunday?"

For Mark

Purple Cow: Reflections on a Mythic Beast Who's Quite Remarkable, at Least.
by: Gelett Burgess (1866-1951)

I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one!

On reflection:

Ah, yes, I wrote the "Purple Cow"—
I'm Sorry, now, I wrote it;
But I can tell you Anyhow
I'll Kill you if you Quote it!

Studying the Paleolithic

When we were in Australia, Jack and I spent about three hours per day in the park near Mormor's house.

A lot of that time was spent playing "hunter gatherer". We slept in "trees", woke up and went off "hunting". We speared various large animals and then dragged them to our "camp fire" and cooked and ate them. (Which was nowhere near the "trees" we slept in.)
It went on and on and on, and really seems to capture Jack's imagination. That suggested to me that it was time to start collecting materials for our first History unit -- life in the paleolithic.

Jack climbing a tree

(We had previously done a more general Dinosaurs theme, but I want to set a precedent of thoroughness now that we're studying human history.)

The paleolithic, of course, covers a very long time, and while life didn't change as fast as it did at the start of the industrial revolution, it did change, so I am trying to collect books that reflect that change.

In the meanwhile, how we got here was that during Jack's Dinosaur phase, he loved Walking with Dinosaurs and so we got him the post-dinosaur video Walking with Beasts. In it, we saw Australopithecus. That intrigued Jack, and Mamma was on her way! From there, Walking with Cavemen was a natural as was the discussion of how we went from Australopithecus to homosapiens, to today.

Videos
Walking with Cavemen - a documentary style depiction of homonid evolution from Australopithecus to modern Homo sapiens.
The Real Eve - the a documentary style story of mitochondrial Eve -- the most recent female common ancestor of all humans -- and how her decedents came to populated the world
Ice Age Columbus - the story of the very first explorers to discover the continent that came to be known as the Americas.
Land of Lost Monsters- the emiogration of the very first humans into New Zealand, Australia, and the Americas and what they found there.

Picture Books:
Walking with Cavemen by John Lynch and Lucy Barrett
Land of Lost Monsters: Man against Beast: The Prehistoric Battle for the Planet by Ted Oakes
Journey from the Dawn: Life with the World's First Family by Dr Donald Johanson and Kevin O'Farrell

The Best book of Early People by Margaret Hynes
The Stone Age News by Fiona Macdonald
Magic Tree House: Sabertooths and the Ice Age by Mary Pope Osborn and Natalie Pope Boyce
Cartoon History of the Universe: Volume 2 Sticks and Stones by Larry Gonick

Fiction:
Time of the Bison by Ann Turner
Small Blue Blue Bead by Byrd Baylor Schweitzer
The First Painter by Katherine Lasky

Read-aloud books
The Story of the World by Susan Wise Bauer pages 21-27
The Story of US by Joy Hakim Book 1, pages 16-20
The DK History of the World pages 16-28

I'm still hunting for a chapter book aimed at the age 5 to 10 crowd that would be suitable. So far, no luck. But this should keep us busy for the summer.

The plan, so far, is to move on to the Neolithic and the Mesopotamian cultures in the fall...fortunately, there seems to be *a lot* more about that for the very young.

EMF

I had, of course, heard about the controversial ill effects of electromagnetic frequencies on the human body.
Stories had filled the newspaper when I was young about increased incidence of lukemia near power stations, and the like. But I had also read about how controversial the connection was. And so, of course, I left it to the scientists to sort it out and didn't think much more about it.

Over the last few years, I had begun to suffer arthritis type symptoms in my lower back and in my feet. "I"m getting older" I thought. "You need to lose some weight" others commented. *shrug*

And then, as I was groaning my way out of my sister-in-law's car after our arrival in Melbourne, she commented that she had ha similar problems until recently, but that they were completely resolved now.

The cure? Her family had removed the wireless Internet from their home, and she was being a lot more careful about how she carries her cell phone. There was a lot more to the story -- scientist friends who had measured the levels of EMF in their home and the like. I was fresh off a grueling transplanetary flight and the details are lost to me. But the basics stuck.

My back stiffness and foot pain did indeed start not too long after we moved into Chez Smiffy and set up wireless to connect all three computers. Hmmm.

After a couple of weeks in my mother-in-law's home, with no wireless around, my back and feet felt fine. Hmmm, indeed.

When I got home, I turned off the wireless router unless I was actually *at* the computer and the pain didn't return. Interesting indeed.

I also got out of the habit of carrying my cell phone on my body. I had never been one to carry it much anyway, but I started carrying it in my purse instead of in my pocket, and my back and feet seemed to have "un-aged" a good ten years.

Then, yesterday, I carried my phone in my pocket all day without thinking about it.

Today, my back is stiff and sore and my feet ache so that it's hard to walk.

I am coming to think there might be something to this EMF sensitivity thing, after all.

My crazy baby boy...

...has decided that rather than any of the 20 books in our bedtime stack,
he wants to read a book he found on Dad's nightstand, instead.

He tells me he's very excited to read this adults' book!

"It's about a child."

He knows this because he started it on his own when he found it, but he has too many questions to read it alone.

The book? Yon Ill Wind, by Piers Anthony.

Anthony doesn't shy away from much, so last night's editing on the fly was...interesting.

The crazy little boy listened with rapt attention, with many pauses for questions and definitions, to an entire chapter. That's about twice or three times as long as the average book aimed at children.

We may actually finish it -- though at three hundred pages, that will take three times as long as his usual books - - and as I say, Anthony isn't writing for five year olds. It could get too intense for a sensitive little boy at some point.

I wonder whether I could convince him to switch to A Spell for Chameleon ... that was is a lot sillier and I think the plot would be a lot easier for him to comprehend.

(But..but...we haven't finished our Little House on the Prairie books yet!)

The Book Exchange

I'm sure we've mentioned the clothing exchange that Jack belonged to for his first four years.

From a couple of weeks before Jack was born, we gathered twice a year to swap clothes with a large group people, most of whom are friends from the local science fiction community. We passed along anything Jack had outgrown and picked up clothes in his new size. There were always far more than one child needs -- even when we were sharing the cache with another little boy!

It is an excellent idea with many advantages, and we really enjoyed our time with the exchange, but the time ha come to return any clothes we weren't using and drop out of the exchange. The main reason was that we are starting to prepare ourselves for our emigration, and that means jettisoning anything we can live without.

But that exchange was such a terrific idea that a couple of years ago, we joined a children's book exchange.

This one works a little differently.

Every few months, a tub (or two, or three) of children's books shows up on our doorstep.

We dig through the books, Jack chooses a few, and we put in a few books that we don't need anymore.

Then we call the next person on the list and get directions, drop off the tub, and we're done.

The tubs have multiplied over the two years until now there is one reserved for board books for babies and another dedicated to parenting books and chapter books for older children.

We have found some truly marvelous books in there! Jack knows that he may choose a few books, but that twaddle has to go back out next time the the tub comes. I have found some really interesting books for our "school" library. It also means that we're not drowning in books that Jack had to have at the library sale -- and never read a second time. It also means that really wonderful books that Jack has outgrown don't sit around unused - -they can move along to a new home and give another child great joy!

The tub recently arrived at our house and we have our work cut out for us this time!

Thank you, Trudi!

Rod's sister, Trudi, took this family portrait of us while we were in Australia. I do believe it's a first! If not a first, it's been a very, very long time.

She did a beautiful job, I think. Pity I'm talking...as usual. *laugh*

(The devilish look on Jack's face? He was trying to make it as difficult as possible. We have a dozen false starts with a boy hiding his face or launched into mi-air. But, as grandparents all, we knew that if we all persisted with patience and humour, we'd either get a decent one or we'd end up with a tearful boy. We took our chances, et voila!)

Only three birthday cards behind now; I hope to blog soon...

But...I never get insomnia...!

It's 1 am and I'm awake. On a worknight.

*sigh*
I never get insomnia...except sometimes. Somehow, it's usually on a night I have to work the next day.

You'd think that since I am awake and have been wanting to blog for a week, I'd be able to blog.

Nope.

My mind seems to blank whenever I open the page.

Jack and I have had a tough day. It seemed like we were at odds every two minutes all day. He wanted to much to be "helpful" -- but he simply wouldn't listen. Instead, he ended up undoing everything I was trying to accomplish, while I fruitlessly tried to get his attention to guide him to something more helpful. Then, in frustration, I shouted and he got angry at me for not appreciating his help.

*sigh*

It was, of course, a weekend on which we wanted to accomplish a lot. We had intended to paint the bedroom, but there were a lot of other small projects we needed to get done first. And, of course, they all took a lot longer than we had planned, so I was distracted, tired, and intent on getting stuff done.

I hate when that happens.

Then again, we went to sleep cuddled up, and Jack was the baby dolphin and I was the mother dolphin, we we loved each other very much and barked sweetly at each other.

That part I love!

We never did get to the painting, though. The bedroom still has dirty, ugly powder blue walls. Oh well.

Jack's World, June 30, 2008

The boys went out noticing last night while I made dinner. Jack took his camera.



This is his world.