Eclectically Yours,

Photos. And More Photos...and Then A Few More

Before I introduce you to these "few" photos I want to thank EVERY SINGLE PERSON who has left comments. I love comments. I live for comments. Does that sound too needy? I love to reply to comments too, except I am not that great at it. I blame typepad. I don't like their format for when I, the blog owner/producer/administrator/dictator, reply back. I have to actually log on my own site!! What is with that? There has to be an easier way. So, I sit here and say stuff like "Oh, yeah, that's a good point!" or "Oh, how sweet she/he wrote that!" but I don't reply back. But I love you. And you, and you and you....(shades of Romper Room)

That having been said...here are some more pictures if you're bored for your entertainment. On their first weekend here, Josh and Anna had the audacity to actually want to get away ALONE together. I mean, really!? They went to beautiful Acadia National Park up to Downeast Maine. (Ya, Maine is full of contradictions like that) I'm sure their pictures are lovely. Whatever.

Because I was jealous...er, miffed er, wanting to get out in the springtime weather with  my own family, we headed to the Boothbay Harbor region to take in the first signs of spring. These are starting to unfurl everywhere. (Get it?? First SIGNS of spring...get it???)

We stopped at this cool little gallery that had all sorts of these soldered metal interesting pieces of art and stuff. I liked the "stuff".

And then there was this rocking moose on the side of the road. The owner of the gallery encouraged Ms. D to try it out. Which she did with alacrity. How cool is a metal rocking moose? You'll notice that the actual saddle area here doesn't look all that comfortable. Ms. D, in no uncertain terms (nor in discreet terms) let us know just HOW uncomfortable that was.

And Mr. David. What a man. When we left one of the galleries with "stuff" in it, he presented me with a box full of spring! Isn't it beautiful?! Sea glass. And stuff.

Ms. D was not immune to the spring spend-thrift in David, either. She got this sweet little ring with a seed pearl in it. You'd have thought he bought her diamonds the way she loved it! She worried about it falling off the rest of the day, which it was NOT going to do...but she was very, very, careful with it.

Okay, look out, because, here come the ubiquitous blogging ARTFUL PHOTOS.

Extreme close up. Those are some cute freckles, no? ( I would like to insert here, that this photo reminds me of our friend, Callie, who once upon a time has blonde hair, blue eyes, and freckles around said eyes. And well, still does.  Ms Callie, is NOW, probably as. I. write. actually considering GRADUATING from high school. Which is wrong. Wrong. WRONG. On so many levels.

Oh. Look here. This is a person who will be FORTY this year. She doesn't look graceful about her impending age at all. Look at those LINES that were not photoshopped. If this person is going to be forty she should really, really, invest in Photoshop for her own peace of mind, and the consideration of others. I mean, fashion magazines do it all the time. I think those bare- it- all Dove ads do it too. Secretly.

Here is the forty year old woman's counterpart. Who will always be exactly 7.9 years older than she is. (Insert maniacal laughter here.)

Question: Why is gray hair and wrinkles on men "natural" and "artful", as in this photo?

I'm telling you, I always thought I would age gracefully, but I'm having NONE of it. NONE, I tell you. But I digress....you wanted photos...

So. We were wandering around Boothbay Harbor and LO! what do we see in our midst? An incredible, book store. Look at the outside of this cottage/used book store. Shelves and shelves. Beckoning. Enticing. Seducing.

(Question for Martha: Is it too gauche to put bookshelves on the outside porch of one's second seaside cottage home if one is NOT a bookstore owner??)

And now, for the inside. Isn't that delightful?

 

A few of the treasures we found...LOVE these old covers. I'm sure I already have Tennyson and Winnie-the-Pooh, and The Wind in the Willows, but not so beautifully bound.

Oh, yeah. Back to our company who finally returned from their little "side trip" away from us. Not that I am bitter or angry about that. That is SO not like me.

Ah, those Midwesterners...trying to eat lobster. They don't know the first thing about it, really.

We had scallops, shrimp (the kind where you have to think about what you're eating by really and truly peeling the heads off. You just can't think about it, really, but Ms. D was eating vegetarian that night. Which at one point, seemed like a good idea. I think it was after the point I completely stuffed myself with sea food.) Oh, and lobster.

I am not sure who the woman in blue is. She showed up at the dinner table and, feeling awkward, we let her stay.

After our feast, we still had lobster left over. David implored, simply implored, Josh to have more, but Josh could just NOT eat another bite.

Anna was wise, and saved room. Silly Josh. You'll not find such seafood fare in the Midwestern U.S. my brother.

Later during the week we went to Freeport area.

Freeport is home, as you may well know, to L.L.Bean. Josh and Anna really should think about a career in catalog modeling.

Josh, Anna and Ms. D explore the camping options.  It's so nice of L.L. Bean to set these tents up so Anna, Josh and Ms. D could test the campsite storytelling capacity. It seems this tent would do just fine, although, not sure it could contain the large amount of hot hair that is apparent here.

Look out! More ARTFUL PHOTOS coming up!!

These next photos were taken on a weekend that the ENTIRE family was out and about. ALL. TOGETHER. ONE AND ALL. NO ONE went out by themselves or alone. NO COUPLES went anywhere without the rest of the family. We were ONE unit. A WHOLE.

This is Josh reading a paper. Our side of the family MUST read whilst eating. Anyone belonging to this branch immediately senses the need for reading/perusing material anytime food is near. It's not rude. We can easily carry on conversations (usually about current and local events) while perusing and reading.

 
Oh.And the drink next to Josh is NOT his sisters Long Island Ice Tea that she imbibed in the middle of the afternoon. No. She only imbibes AFTER five, like a civilized person would. She would NOT order a Long Island Ice Tea on an empty stomach in the early afternoon. Just would not. So don't even think about it. Her mother always warned her, since the day she turned 21, that ANY drinking whatsoever, would turn her into a complete and TOTAL alcoholic from day one.( despite the fact there is NO alcoholism in the family tree whatsoever (to our knowledge)) So Josh's sister hardly EVER drinks alcohol lest it catapult her into complete dissolution from which her mother would never recover. So ignore that drink sitting across from Josh.

Okay, so I tried a totally NEW and cutting edge photographic technique on this photo below. I hold the camera at a different angle AWAY from me and make the subject look, not at the camera, but at ME. Huh? Don't you think Testino will be copying me soon?

Look at that suggestive and flirty pose I captured! Oh. wait. I think he was eying the dessert next to me.

Arty Anna...and her constant shadow. Poor Aunt Anna.

This is not, as it would seem, a photo of my sadly southernly directed forty esque chest area. This is actually a photo of the really cool necklace that Anna made for me! It's felt and beads and sequins and I love the color combination. She made Ms. Devi and identical one, except it has red beads and is a little bit shorter.

Anna is creative. She isn't just creative but she actually DOES a project and sees it through. Unlike some people who get enthused about a project, buy all the equipment for a project and never seem to get the project off the ground. I'm not quite sure who I am talking about, but I've heard there are people like that.

Meanwhile, we went to beautiful Pemaquid area. Simply gorgeous. That's all I can say. Well, it's not. The area is replete with geographical interest, and I'm sure once I figure out what that's all about I'll be able to tell you. Right now we just say "Oh...Coooo-ooool...I wonder how that was formed...." and blithely go on to the next thing in which we say "Cooooo-ooool...look at how those waves just crashed up! Did you see that? I almost got sprayed..." and then we sit around and wait for the next wave and get really excited about that. I mean, seriously. We could watch those waves crash all day.

I think that is Josh way out there. Or wait...it's Anna! Er...no, I think it's David...

This really is David. Pointing out something interesting to Anna and Ms. D who are sitting next to him.

Anna and Ms. D.

ARTFUL Bouys.  (I feel a band name coming on....)

David and  Josh discovered this tree thats trunk looks like a pig. I mean, really, people, if you come to Maine, look at the never ending fun you can have.

We're not really sure about this formation, below. I think it has to do with the above mentioned photo of "sadly southernly directed forty esque chest area" but I'm not sure.

 

The sun was setting and it made for some good "photo ops" (another word I have learned in my new found craft of photography.)

Ms. D, if you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

I would like to say that Ms. D and I were at loggerheads the entire two and half weeks that Josh and Anna were here. I'm sorry that Anna and Josh had to put up with that side of our relationship right now. It was like Jekyll and Hyde...or Sherlock and Moriarty...Javert and Valjean...Sherman and Grant...Napoleon and...well, you get the picture...but here, we are serene...happy in our mother/daughter relationship. Or for however long it took that shutter to open and close.

Try not to weep. Isn't this sweet? They are so happy after two blissful years of marriage. Just look at the youth pictured here....

Apparently there is some family issue with kisses.

On our way home...we caught sight of these lovely geese. Don't you think that the blurryness of this photo makes it more "artful"? I'll have to write Testino about this effect.

Now, here, you would think Josh and David are examining the beauty of the night sky.

Not quite.

Anna and Josh went for a walk in our backyard. Well, not quite the backyard. But we have lovely and quiet neighbors.

On their last night, (I shall not weep...) Anna presented us with gifts she had been working on for her ENTIRE STAY...unbeknownst to us. Okay, unbeknownst to MOST of us.

Check out those new scarves...David's was gray with hunter green edging, mine was  pinkish multi colored with pink fringe...Ms. D's was purple multi colored with purple fringe...matches our outdoor togs to perfection. Mr. David really need a new scarf too!

And thus ends the photos of our blissful two weeks with Anna and Josh. It was SOO fun. It was like a mini vacation. We laughed, we cried, we ate, we shopped, we hunted sea glass, we laughed some more, we ate too much chocolate, we ate again. It's terribly depressing that they left, but we were SO thankful that they were able to extend their stay another whole week!! We're really hoping that they can come out again this year (that's not, like, too much to ask is it??). I am also in the process of trying to talk Anna into bringing her sister, Becca, with her next time. So who else is coming out?? Huh?? Huh?? Sign up now, my summer is filling up!

 

Oh, how silly I was. To think I could update daily. I had my dreams, didn't I? Well, in lieu of my erstwhile daily check in during Anna and Josh's visit, here are a few photos. Hopefully will update some more tomorrow.

Crafting Afternoon with Anna:

A very interesting pottery shop...with no one around...

A beautiful (if slightly chilly) day by the water front...

And guess what? The boats were being "un tucked" after winter...a really, really, good sign!!

When I think picnic by the water, I'm thinking a beautiful wicker basket, linens, chicken salad sandwiches, deviled eggs on a glass tray, wine, cheese, crackers and silverware. And preferably foot men waiting to re- pour my wine. But, you know, Subway tastes pretty decent...

It seems I NEVER get to be in pictures during this trip. Which, frankly, since I'm not ultra lovin' my new hair and have gained a huge amount of weight over the winter, that's really okay. People can't seem to figure out how to run the new camera, either, so it's easier to skip it. However, Ms. D grabbed the camera for a bit...

This is our pseudo Olan Mills pose..

Do YOU see buds on those trees, 'cause I'M seeing buds on those trees...

One of our favorite local libraries...favorite, but we don't get there often enough. It has a wonderful lighthouse in the wee tots section. With a working light!

I took pictures, and took pictures...and took pictures...

I finally had to amuse myself...with some of MY OWN friends...(try to see past the double chin. Mine, not theirs...)

We had deep discussion...

...and then they turned on me as reptilian predators, even in a children's book section, are wont to do.

It was really more the verbal attack that bothered me. They claimed that my chin was getting a bit thick..and although I didn't really hear the word double, I think it was implied.

Turning my back on my new friends and their implications, we went out to eat...with this for a view...

...and this...

Do these two seem a little tense to you?

Our food was cooked with this...the real thing! They add wood to it every morning. No namby -pamby gas lighter for this place!

And I will end with this. I haven't quite figured out what this means.

I mean, I live in a fishing type community, I should be able to ask, right? But I keep forgetting. Maybe believing, probably falsely, that I'll be laughed out of the store for asking.Growing up in a farming community in SW WI, I know the looks I'd get if I asked about, say, a manure spreader. My guess is that a Mackerel Killer is a type of lure, because it's "Handmade in the Northwoods of Maine"...if anyone knows, you can save me the embarrassment by writing me a line or two of explanation.

I still haven't forgotten the give- away we've planned! We're working on a few questions to pose, but so far haven't found the "tackiest Maine gift possible" which will be the prize. A little piece of Maine Kitch for your home. I have exactly one billion more pictures, but haven't the time to post. Will try to do more tomorrow. If you ask nice.

April 10th Ode

I  was an only child for ten years, as I think I've mentioned more than once. Then my sweet baby brother came along. I never had sisters. But I didn't' really need them, because my Aunt Elaine was kind enough to provide me with four girl cousins.

While I always wished we lived a bit closer than an hour or so, they did very well as my surrogate sisters. I learned a lot from them. How not to take myself too seriously, how to put on variety shows for ones parents,how to watch Sonny and Cher, how to put cards on your bike spokes so they make that cool noise,how to wear eyeshadow, how to ride a Big Wheel, how to listen to the Bay City Rollers, how to dress (that is debatable...)how to harmonize, how to tease one's hair, how to cartwheel, how to play hide and seek in the dark, how to chase boys...and catch them...how to live with another person, how to road trip...

 

...how to stand your ground, how to debate, how to homeschool, ...and they showed me what no one ever really wants to learn, but we all do eventually: how to be selfless in face of the unthinkable.

"Grief still feels like fear. Perhaps, more strictly, like suspense. Or like waiting, just hanging about waiting for something to happen."~~A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis

P.S.

These gaggle of girl cousins have a brother, too. He's about the same age as my brother, Josh. I never really thought that I needed another brother figure, but he gave me the biggest gift I have ever received. It saved me years of therapy and costly self-help books. And he probably doesn't even know it.

 

Dirge Without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.

The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

~~ Edna St Vincent Millay

Oh, Right. I Have a Brother, Too...

Lest you think, from this post, that I am an only child whose parents lives revolved entirely around her, who constantly needs attention and validation, I would like to set the record straight.

I have a brother.

Look, here is a picture of my mom pregnant with the future lad.  I think it's the only one we have of her pregnant with him. You may not be able to tell what with all the 70's pattern in this photo, but that's me on the bottom right. We're watching T.V. Probably "Happy Days".

And here is another photo with Dad. Funny there is no writing on the back of that one, like there was with  mine.

Here is another one of him as he's older. Too bad about those eyes.

I look happy. A little TOO happy. Is there some hysteria behind my eyes? And what does it say that my hair still looks the same and this picture was taken over five years ago? Oh, wait. This was about my brother.

Here is a picture of him a few months before he was married.  I trained him well enough that he managed to land a very decent wife. In fact, she reminds me of me. It's only right that my brother would want someone as magical and perfect as his sister. Any other woman would pale in comparison.

Oh, look! It's ME at his wedding!! I got to walk down with my husband! How cool was that? (You know how those bridesmaids dresses add additional weight to make the bride look good? That was the case here, too. Because I was at my thinnest here. Size 4. Juniors. Incredible the visual fat these dresses add, huh?!)

And here I am again, looking on as the beautiful couple are wed. It's too bad you can't really see them, isn't it? I'm actually crying. I think it was because I hated my hair. I giant pastry seemed to have attached itself to the back of my head.

Here is a better view of the pastry on my head.

It was such a beautiful wedding. Oh, look! Here I am again! Look at that soft Photoshop glow that surrounds the picture. A romantic glow in case you couldn't tell from the photo alone.

Anyway, it's like I said. I have a brother. And without sounding too much like Napoleon Dynamite,  it was pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me.

OT Visit

We've just got back from Ms. D's OT visit. I'm a bit shaky, a bit emotional without really being able to  pin point why.

Ms. D had all sorts of tests. Of course, they didn't seem like tests. They seemed like games. The ones she wasn't so hot in had to do with balance and coordination. She can't really do jumping jacks or any cross coordination type things very well. Very difficult. Balance is an issue. The OT, Marissa, was very thorough I felt. She asked a lot of questions about Ms. D's original issues with walking/crawling and so forth. Did you know how important that whole crawling thing is for babies? It teaches patterns in the brain. Patterns they need later. Marissa was surprised that our PT that helped Ms. D with her walking issues didn't go back and really try to teach Ms D those patterns before teaching her to walk. You know, that really goes to show a person really really needs to research. We were just thrilled at the time that Ms. D was walking! Who knew there was more to it? I feel like we should of. Ah, the parental "blame game". At any rate, Marissa also explained to us how the eyes and  motor skills work together. I asked once again why this type of thing wasn't "caught" before. Marissa explained that the whole developmental optometry in connection with motor skills thingy (Marissa doesn't say "thingy", but I do) is rather a newer study and the surface is only just being scratched. 

I knew that Ms. D was behind physically. I knew she had some sensory issues. But really, they weren't getting in the way of her life to any large extent. So she doesn't ride a bike yet. Someday. So she isn't as active as other kids. It would come. She's just behind. As long as I saw some progress I was okay. And I always saw progress. Not every kid has to be at "grade level" or "developmental level", right? Her life wouldn't be ruined, right? And, while I figured it was a separate issue, the reading aspect concerned me, but her vision was 20/20 and reading has nothing to do with physical issues. I would continue to find ways of working with her and keeping her progress in a forward motion. But there was a inner sense of bafflement. Was I doing enough? It appeared so. The doctor's thought so.

And then I figured out quite by chance that the two issues were very likely connected. Do you know how close I came to NOT figuring that out?? I would've NEVER have figured out Ms. D's convergence insufficiency issue if it wasn't for the online forum I visit. In particular when someone posted their fear with their childs reading. I happened to read it. Someone else happened to post, and it happened to make me think and act. And now we possibly have an answer to Ms. D's reading issues. And even if she never eats up books like a crazy person we will know we've done what we can.

In addition, on another homeschooling forum I entered the Special Needs section. I never go there, and, feeling silly because these parents are dealing with HUGE issues in their children, I posted Ms. D's convergence insufficiency issues. And got some incredible advice. Helpful suggestions. And great information. I happened to add some information about Ms. D's early proprioception/Sensory Integration issues. Someone happened to reply that I should look into that further and what to look for. In particular an OT who specializes in Sensory Processing Disorder. They didn't have to post that extra information. But they did.

And I think this is were I get emotional. I almost didn't figure this out. I didn't realize how badly I needed to figure out what was really wrong. I thought we'd just never really have an answer...that it would always be vague. That we'd done what we could. We just compensated. Now I realize we don't need to just compensate. We can help her. And I'm really, really, happy. And really, really, thankful. I'm happy that even if she never LOVES reading, she'll have a chance to get those eyes corrected. And even if she never really LOVES to ride a bike, she's going to actually be able to do it some day. She's got the options now. She can take them if she wants.

So how many kids are walking around without options? I'm told by several specialists that it is highly unlikely a public school situation would've caught the convergence insufficiency. She would've just had reading problems. Learning disabilities. Or she would just be lazy. Or not trying hard enough. Not concentrating. I'm also told today by the OT that if Ms. D's problems hadn't been diagnosed this early it is unlikely a lot of help could be given. (Her opinion) So what if I hadn't asked questions? What if Ms. D just thought she was clumsy? Or uncoordinated? Or just not good at physical stuff? Yes, I know, people walk through life just like that all the time and they are fine.  Aren't they? What if they didn't have to walk through life like that? What if they got answers, too? And, I think, this is where I get a bit emotional, too. What if's.

Nancy Wallace Moment

I really loved the book Child's Work: Taking Our Children's Choices Seriously by Nancy Wallace. Even though I am not entirely an unschooler like she is, the book gave me a quiet confidence in my abilities to guide and teach. It helped me learn to trust in Ms. D to guide her learning more than myself. No matter what "type" of homeschooler you are, eclectic, Charlotte Mason, classical, waldorfy,unschooler, charter, whatever, if you get a chance, read this book. (If you want. Because really, you've got to guide your own education....)

There is a wonderful part in this book where Nancy's son wanted to learn to play an instrument. (Okay, honestly, I can't remember what instrument it was. Violin or piano? but that's not the point...) and he wanted to compose. So he had to teach himself how to do this. Nancy had to find someone within her community to help guide him. But before that he kinda figured it out himself. I thought this was such a great analogy for all unschooling. Trusting ones child. Trusting their desire to learn.

So the other day Ms. D is plunking away on the piano picking out tunes and listening to the sounds working together. Getting rthyms down and so forth. Suddenly she says "I need to write this down. Quick. Teach me!" Well, I couldn't drop everything and teach her (although a good unschooling mommy would) but I sat down and told her the names of keys. "Okay, that's fine, you can go" she declared. And proceeded to write down the names of the notes to the particular tune she had in her head. It was a complete Nancy Wallace moment. Very cool. Very gratifying.

And we'll be, of course, studying how to write music....but this was a great beginning.

True Romance

On Regularmom's blog the other day, she posted a youtube clip from West Side Story. I laughed so hard at how dramatic it was. But boy, I love that movie. I cry at the end every single time.

I was first introduced to West Side Story via my mom's record album. She has the original. It's inscribed. My dad bought if for her. They saw the movie before they were married. And do you know what my mom said? "If I ever have a girl, I will name her Maria."

My first recollection of hearing that story involves sitting on my mom's lap in our Dodge Dart waiting for Dad to bring us ice cream from the Pink Pony drive through in Lancaster WI. My second related recollection is of listening  to the album in our living room. Olive green shag carpet. (We had a carpet rake for it so that the nap would all go one way) Dancing. Loving the song "Maria". This was in the days before VCR's. So it was a long while before I saw the movie and fell in love with Natalie Wood and her bracelets. With Rita Moreno's hips shaking through "America" and Richard Beymer (is he gorgeous or what?) singing my song. Later, my cousin and I would try to harmonize to "One Hand, One Heart" and I think we did pretty darn well, too.

Mom also had this wonderful Broadway version of The Sound of Music. Which I loved. I wanted to be those kids. But you know, somehow I never did relate to "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria". And no one, but NO ONE, ever sang that to me. Nope. Never. And I never, EVER heard anyone rhyme "Maria" with "Diarrhea". Or try to sing Santana to me....or "Maria, Take A Letter..."

Notwithstanding,  here is the true love story.

And here.

And now, I leave you with some true beautiful sappiness in all it's glory. Because let's remember: It's all about ME.

My Husband's Disreputable Past

I think I have already shown you some compromising pictures of my husband here (scroll down) and I have titillated you with mention of a denim jumpsuit he actually wore at one time here.

Yet, the denim jumpsuit picture alluded me. I remembered it, but could not find it. It could have something to do with the fact that most of our belongings are still in a state 1500 miles and one U-haul away.

Imagine my complete surprise and delight when I found the picture! And where did I find it? Where you find anything and everything you are looking for, dearest readers. Google.

So now I can completely embarrass my husband yet again. Without further delay, without further ado, I give you, ladies and gentlemen, dear faithful readers (I think there are 12 of you,) stumblers upon my blog from foreign parts, and insomniacs all: Zeus!!



How completely funky is this circa 1976 garage band? Oh, wait. I am pretty sure they didn't even have a garage. While David was wearing this DENIM JUMPSUIT and clearly not getting haircuts at ALL, I was skipping merrily to first grade. Pony tails, braids and my Holly Hobbie lunch box. That's just wrong on so many levels.

Meanwhile, I know my readers want to know how, they too, can find embarassing pictures of their nearest and dearest by using Google. For now, that shall remain a secret, but I promise there will be more compromising photos of my husband in the near future with SECRETS of how you can Google for fun and blackmail!!

Were You Born In A Barn?

"Do you think money grows on trees?"

"Does anyone listen to me around here?"

I'll bet you could name your own. "You'll poke your eye out!" The list goes on and on.

It is said, that the older we get, the more we can relate to our parents. This was my relating this week.

How many times did I hear this? "I am SO sick of picking up after you people!" Mostly when, for the skiddy eighth time, my mother picked something up that my brother, my father or myself could've picked up if only we had actually bent from the waist. I am convinced that it was the sheer fact that we just didn't think. 

Usually, I just figure. "Hey, I'm not nagging. I have it pretty doggone good. A husband who vacuums.

Who makes supper two nights out of seven. (And well presented, too.) And doesn't mind when I call cold cereal "supper".

When I ask Ms. D to pick up, she just does it. No balking. Usually."

So why should I complain about wet towels and dirty clothes strewn about? My part in our family is the daily household chores. Everyone has a part to play, right? We're one  big happy team, here.

But I almost lost it (until I figured it would be fodder for blogging) when I saw this complete lack of common sense and respect for my job as mother.

Can you see that?? That is a plate on the EDGE of the chair arm, people. (That is also a lamp with a seem showing, but since Martha Stewart doesn't read this blog, I'm okay) It's a precariously tipped plate, my friends. Let's get a closer look, shall we?

Yes, that's right. It's Annie's Organic Brand Raspberry Salad dressing with baby spinach. Organic or not, I'm thinking Annie's dressing is not going to come out of that chair none to easily, do you? I don't care if the chair needs reupholstering anyway and is a ratty old thing. That is not the point, young lady.
I was about to work myself into a really good lecture about how no one THINKS around here except maybe myself and the cats, when I saw this:

It's kind of washed out, but do you know what that is??? That is a CAT. On the counter top. On the CLEAN dish towel. Sleeping. As if I have nothing better to do than to wash down the counter top and spare clean dish towels. Sleeping!! On the counter Top!! Does anyone listen to me around here??!!

OH. Sorry. Did my yelling interrupt your nap?

In the end I gave in. I didn't say a word. And in a few minutes Ms. D came in from whatever she was doing that interrupted her spinach meal and picked up the plate (probably not thinking, "My goodness, that was terribly close to making more work for my dear mother!") and put the plate in the kitchen where it belongs. And as for the cat?

I'm pretty sure she's still there.

Guess What We Got?

Otherwise titled: Finally.

I'll give you some hints. It's digital. It came in a box. Big enough to use the packaging as a fashion statement.

Come to think of it, this child may have a future. I can picture this on the runway. Just get someone really really tall, and really really thin and prance. I think it would be a hit in chartreuse.
Okay, another hint?

It has 88 of these.

Yes, my friends, at long last it's happened. We didn't go authentic or "real", but we like it . I insisted on the piano having the right touch/action. It had to "feel" real. This Yamaha was as close as I could come. I bit more than we budgeted but I'm very pleased.

We purchased this at a really great store in Portland. Starbird Music. I was in despair that I would never find another Ward Brodt like we had in Madison. Starbird is smaller, but filled the need perfectly. The sheet music world was my oyster! When I went to find Ms. D a beginner piano book the names Thomspon, Schaum, and Bastian all greeted me like old friends. Ah, the feel of a music store.   I got Ms. D her beginner book, workbook, flashcards and myself a couple books on theory. Because for some reason I hated learning as a kid, but now have a passionate interest in chords and theory. Funny how that works, isn't it? Do you know the one reason I think that is? Because while I didn't play piano much after high school, my mom did. I loved listening to her play late at night while we were all in bed. It was comforting, but there was something neat about watching her learn a piece of music. To practice it over and over and over. I've read a lot of homeschooling/parenting books in the last few months and they almost all unanimously agree than children who watch their parents pursue a passion are more likely to pursue their own passions. To see the delight in doing so.

 

We had to get the Beethoven. Cause a piano isn't' a piano without a Beethoven. And Ms. D is really into Beethoven right now. Mr. B looks kinda grumpy, doesn't he?

Well, well, well, look who else is Mr. Grumpy Gills. Seems no one wants their picture taken, hmmm?

Well, everyone should just lighten themselves up a bit around here!

Not going to Mr. B? Well take THAT!!

There, that's better. A little humor goes a long way.

Mr. B found it especially humorous that I was trying to play the piano after 18 years. I detected a certain sarcastic smile on his lips. But I keep at it. I practice from an hour to hour and half a day.  And I've seen some improvement, already. But I freeze if someone walks in the room. I can NOT play in front of other people. I miss all the notes. Alone, I am Liberace. Okay, not Liberace. But I do try to be Tori Amos. I wanna play like her when I grow up.

And Ms. D. is learning to play. She wanted to jump right into "Fur Elise" so she is learning to play that by heart. Which has already taught her alot. Like proper hand position, and proper finger position. Meanwhile, we work on some basics like finding middle C.

And meanwhile, too,  when Ms. D and David are tucked in bed, I play a little.

 

Let It Snow!(At Least in the Midwest...)

Here are a few pictures my Dad took today and sent  to me. Since most my readership is experiencing  this very same stuff,  it's not such a thrill to see. But I may get that one person from New Zealand, Russia or Spain or say North Carolina, who hasn't seen snow like this before. And I'm sure happy, 'cause that's all the snow we're getting here on the coast. Is in pictures. Okay, to be fair today we had this weird snowy/rainy/slushy/sleety thing going on for most of the day. But we've got bare ground. Nothing white and beautiful. If it's going to be winter, I want WINTER. Like this.

I love this picture because it looks like the house is 1/2 buried in the snow...but it's not quite. See that tiny tiny little shovel sticking up at the end of the driveway?

Well, here is a view from below the bank.....

Believe it or not, my friends, there is a road out there....

Isn't that beautiful? What a great photographer my dad is, huh? Even though he won't read my blog I still think he's the greatest Dad ever. (Please send money.)

All kidding aside, isn't this last photo, below, so cool! I know that technically the screen wasn't supposed to be in the foreground like that, but I LOVE how it turned out. How come I can't get anything artistic on my blog, but my dad can accidentally get a really cool picture??

By the way, Mom, make sure Dad knows I was just kidding about that money part. Heh, Heh, Heh...hmmm. What I'd really like is some spring.

My New Favorite Past Time

I've always loved to embarrass David. The thing is, he is so stinking, unflappable. Nothing seems to embarrass him. He finds everything amusing and cute. Even my silliness in public. He doesn't just tolerate, he joins. It's really no fun. Until now. I've found his Achilles heel. He's embarrassed by pictures of his past. Especially when posted online. (insert evil laughter here)

This is odd to me. I mean, it's in the past. I was bold enough to post my Duran Duran picture. Who doesn't have some crazy pictures in their past? It's all fun in games. Look at this site for example. Olan Mills Photos. How much worse can it get? I think the collective pain we feel is in the remembering. We were there. We recall those clothes, those pictures, that DAY, in all it's horrific glory and nostalgia. It's bitter sweet. And embarrassing.

David loves my blog. It amuses him. He's my biggest fan, but he wont' participate. I tried to convince him otherwise. Here is an excerpt from last night's conversation.

Me: You like my blog? (insecure/needing validation)

David: Yes. You make me laugh.

Me: You should comment. I'm giving prizes to people who comment.

David: Really?! (hopefully and with evil intentions) Like what kind of prize would I get???

Me: We'll discuss that later. You should comment.

David: I can't figure out how to. I just peck at the keys slowly. And then it's morning.

Me: I'll comment in your behalf. (Control freak from a mile away)

David: Then it wouldn't be my comment.

Me: You know, SOME husbands let their blogging wives interview them. Maybe you should let me interview you.

David: Why would I do that?

Me: To amuse my reading public. All 20 of them.

David: I don't want to, but I wish you would take those embarassing pictures of me off your blog.

Me:(innocently, but with evil intentions...) Reeeealllly?? Sure you wouldn't rather comment?

David: No.

Me: Have it your way.


How cute is that hair??

Here he has embraced the curls. In grammar school where he was known as "Curly" he tried to come the curl out.





He's the one on the far right. How adorable is that?  See, honey, nothing to be embarrassed about, is there? All my readers can relate.

In fact, I dare you to send me your pictures from the past. Show poor David he is not alone. On second thought maybe we should just let me bask in my new found power. My ability to embarrass my husband. My superiour skillz with the computer. He'll never know how to get them off of here!!! HAhahaahahahaHa!!!

He can't embarrass me with pictures of my past.  I was too cute. Here I am  all sweet and cuteness. Plaid pants. Spongy pink curlers in my hair. Posing with the Dodge Dart. ( I hated that shirt.)



Maybe you'd better try commenting instead, David.

Letterboxing 101

(Let me just say right now, that I know this font is really weird, and I can't seem to fix it.)


Ms. D didn't feel so hot yesterday. Some sore throat thing going around. David came home from work early due to the abundance of snow being sprinkled throughout Maine. He helped Ms. D with her grammar/spelling/reading/geography ( not sure how much actually got done, I distinctly heard him give the spelling word "stinky" which was NOT on the W.I.S.E. Guide list) Before his arrival however, Ms. D decided she wanted to carve a stamp. I thought it might be fun to have her work up a "how to" list for letterboxing. Which she promptly did along with graciously allowing her photo be taken as she demonstrated her carving prowess.

Here is what she/we came up with:

Introduction To Letterboxing

1. Choose a "trail name": This is a name you will be called "on the trail", you will sign in logbooks with this name.

2. Choose a stamp: This can be store bought or hand carved (more on that later). Usually it has something to do with your trailname, but doesn't have to.

3. Get a personal log book: This can be a small to medium blank book. You will be adding stamps you find on the trail. If the book is too big it can be too big to carry, if it's too small you wont be able to stamp in those really big, neat stamps!

4. Buy some ink: Just an ink pad for rubber stamps. If you want you can also buy some markers to get really creative while stamping in.

(tools of the trade: logbook, markers, personal stamp, compass and a handy case)

5. Get A Clue: You can find clues in various ways. Our preferred method is through Atlas Quest, or Letterboxing North America (LBNA). Some letterboxers like their clues to be only given by Word Of Mouth (WOM) or through a special newsletter. You can find these by talking to other letterboxers.

6. Find the Box: It may be simple. It may be hard. You may find it right away. You may have to come back. You may need a compass. You may need to pace to find the box. You might have to hike. It might be closer than the nose on your face. Some letterboxers make their clues very challenging, others like to hide clues in riddles. The box could look something like this:



Just a waterproof plastic container. Often a letterboxer will write on the outside just in case someone who doesn't know what letterboxing is stumbles upon the box. (See Below) For those of you that can't read through my bad picture taking it says: "NOT TRASH Please do not remove. Look inside for more details. Be kine enough to return as found."





6. Stamp In: Take your personal stamp that you brought with you, along with your ink and stamp in the logbook that you found in the letterbox. You can write a few words, too. Perhaps the date, or a message telling about the day. (For example: 1.17.2008 Great stamp! A beautiful hike, also! Thanks so much!") But nothing too big. Leave room for the next person!

Most letterboxes have a theme. Here is one I need to plant titled "Let It Snow". The logbook isn't fancy. Just some index cards I cut up, hole punched and tied together.




The second part of stamping in is taking the stamp you found IN the letterbox
and stamping that image to your personal logbook. Now you have a "log" (get it?!) of a letterbox you found!

You DO NOT take either the logbook or stamp you found in the letterbox. You replace these as you found them. And re-hide REALLY well, just as you found it.

That's it! You are now a letterboxer!

Ms. D and I can NOT stress enough the Letterboxers Code of Conduct. All letterboxers do their utmost to follow these rules so that letterboxing can stay respectful and safe for everyone who enjoys this hobby. Atlas Quest has a wonderful description of these. Check out their Code of Conduct page!

Atlas Quest, along with LBNA has some wonderful tutorials for when you are ready to plant your own box. How to make stamps from very simple to the very complicated. Also covered is how to make your own logbooks. For those of you who are more creatively inclined than my index cards and hole puncher (oh, I know who you are, you Amanda Soule wanna-bes, making your own paper pulp, dyeing your own thread, binding your own book) you'll have a heyday! While I love to find ANY letterbox, it's a special treat to find a handmade logbook in one. Below Ms. D is demonstrating a couple aspects of carving your own stamp.

She's using tracing paper to draw an image. She will then transfer it to her stamp pad (kinda like a giant eraser, really) and use her carving tools to cut it out.

Here are a few stamps that I carved. The first is our personal stamp. It was pretty primitive as it was one of my first. But primitive can be fun, no?
Our trail name is Dewdrop. The leaf has three dewdrops, one for each of us. So if you see this in a logbook, you know we've been there!
This is our homeschool name that Ms. D came up with. Again, it's a bit primitive, but we like it.

Ms. D did the artwork for this one and I did the carving. It was titled "Backyard School" and part of a Letterboxing Postal Ring we joined (A Postal Ring: A theme is chosen (this one was Homeschool) those that sign up carve a stamp, send it to the person on their list...they stamp in and send it to the next person...and the next...until you get your stamp back...a great winter alternative for those of us in the northern climes)

So what are some other tools of the trade? I like to pack a small backpack and here are some things I found that make the 'boxing a bit easier.
Binoculars ( letterboxers hide there boxes in beautiful scenic places), small first aid kit, wet wipes (all that ink, ya know) And gloves. That might be strange, and I truly don't mind getting my hands dirty...but there was the time I had to reach WAY under a rock and it was wet and...I won't go on. I had just wished I had gloves at the time. I also carry some extra baggies with me in case I find a letterbox that has been "compromised". Perhaps the wet has gotten to the stamp or logbook. I replace the bags in the box with fresh ones. Just a nice thing to do. And I am, nothing, if not "nice".

Oh, there is SO much more to learn my letterboxing friend. It's a great way to get out with the family, explore nature, discover a treasure and be creative. We thought we knew a lot of the nooks and crannies in this area, but through letterboxing we've found oh, so many more than we knew. Most right under our nose! I highly encourage you to check out the sites most of which are also linked on the side bar to the left, along with some good articles.

(Ms. D and David in 2006 finding a letterbox)

Cowboy, Shmowboy

Some of you may have heard all about The Marlboro Man. The Pioneer Woman, Ree, does like to discuss him just a little bit (in some circles it's said she's bragging but I don't hold to those views) I can't say as I blame her all that much. A man who ropes wild animals and the heart of a L.A. woman has a lot going for him. However, I thought I'd give my reading public a peak at my personal cowboy...

David can corral just as well as any old Marlboro Man....

...he kinda just has his own way of doing things.

He may not muck out stables, but he's really good with a vacuum, which, I think, involves the same muscle groups.
And, well, he's usually giving the horse back rides, rather than taking them. (stirrups optional)



Sure, we may not always see eye to eye, especially when playing poker,



but he cleans up well, and I can take him out....


... importantly, he's comfortable enough with his masculinity to wear pink and do The Chicken Dance, without having to be talked into it...the pink shirt, NOT The Chicken Dance, I unsuccessfully try to talk him OUT of that one...


....he's very giving in all the important ways,




..he can cook...

...he finds me inspiring..(that makes up for The Chicken Dance....)



He has a alluring and mysterious past that seems to be connected to big hair and pointy collared, floral shirts.





All and all, I kinda look up to him.



Even without the horses.

Child’s Work

Ms. D has been making art for a long time now.

She started out, as here, with water. Then crayons. Naturally we thought her use of color was the most brilliant thing ever. As it was. We were fascinated at the way she knew just where she wanted each little crayon mark. At about age three we gave her acrylics. Canvas. Markers. Over the years we went into watercolors, oils, pastels, you name it, we've explored it. David was particular about visiting museums and not interfering with Ms. D's creativity by exposing her to formal lessons. (Heated discussions ensue in the household, 'cause I'm not always in agreement on that...)

Ms. D continues to fill notebooks upon notebooks and now "computer paper" with drawings. No color. But pencil or pen drawings. When I say she fills notebooks I mean that seriously, we have stacks. And the stacks and stacks of finished projects are amazing. Some are, on their own, a finished piece. Other times, there are pages of stories.

Ms. D comes from a long line of artists. Let me stress that would be on David's side of the family.




Let's see, David paints:


His brother, Tom (on the far end) can draw amazing charicatures and comes up with incredibly amazing things for his kids' rooms. Like the bedroom that was Indiana Jones inspired. I'm not talking simple khaki prints, people, I'm talking you opened that bedroom door and were in the jungle. The was something that resembled a bed, but it may have been a cave. (There was some sand on the floor, I don't think that was part of the overall decor theme but it worked on so many levels!) Then there was the train he made for his train obsessed toddler (who still IS train obsessed at 16) A train. With tracks. You could crawl in and out of it. I wish I had pictures. He made everything from salvaged parts.

David's brother Don is an amazing welder. Again, wish I had some pictures, but the useful and the ingenious art he's come up with by welding two pieces of metal amaze me.

David's other brother, Ken, who is not pictured, has a artist/mechanics mind, which I stand in awe of.

David says, of his sister, Carla, that she would sit and sketch out little house plans when they were young. Except that Carla actually has gone on to make those house plans real. She has a great knack for design concepts and decor.

I don't have the time or photos to go into the talent that got passed on to their kids. But here is a smattering. Tom's oldest son:

(Indiana Jones theme still present...mummy? He made it.)

Carla's son Brett is now in New York plying his trade. Check out this incredible mural he did for his sisters nursery (more on that later...)

Steven does amazingly creative work as a landscape architect (I think that is the official title, but not sure. Suffice to say it's caring for and designing golf courses and then some...)

The list goes on and on....

David's mom says she doesn't know where it all came from.


But I suspect it might have something to do with the fact that she can see beauty in rocks. She has millions around her home to prove it. Picked up from every place she's ever trod. You've got to have an eye....of course, I'm sure there has to be genetic factors from other branches of the family tree...but I digress....


Ms. D is irritated when school work (or reading, or supper, or LIFE) interrupts her serious work. Which is to say drawing her stories. Sure she has other interests. Stuffed animals. But other than that? Drawing. Long car drive? Bring paper and a pencil sharpener. Going to the park? Don't forget paper. Early neck problems? Could be bending over the page all the time.

She was inspired by Brett Helquist for awhile. Then Lynn Plourde.(particularly Summer's Vacation) Everything was whispy and ethereal in her drawings. Lately, she's been inspired by Mouse Guard: Fall 1152, which I just picked up at the library.


This is my particular favorite a sketch for a story titled: "Love On A Platter" (Not sure where that story is going!) But I liked the fact one can't see the characters heads, which makes the title more ominous. I also got a kick out of Ms. D's first drawing of cleavage. (It doesn't count that at around four she drew a picture of a woman with two circles by her waist and titled it "Woman of Boobs")

Ms. D has never been interested in the actual reading of the books. But the illustrations she will pour over for hours. (She's always been happy to be read TO, mind you.) I would often find her studying a book for awhile, making her own story about it.

For the first time, she has asked to print out multiple copies of her story to send to people. Perhaps an author is born? An illustrator? Is cheekymonkey next? Who knows? Maybe this interest will take her somewhere. Maybe she'll just always love to draw and move on to other things. I'm just glad she has time to explore her passions. Childhood should be like that.

To Jeanenne: Me Too

Oh, Boy!

Let me say that I love children. Babies are squeezable and smell sweet, toddlers are entertaining.I've been struggling with the desire to have more children. (another topic, another post...) Oddly, many of my friends and acquaintances don't have toddlers. I would say the average I am around a toddler is about 2.8 hours a month. It's been awhile since I had a toddler in close proximity for any length of time, say like 6.45 hours. It's been six years to be exact.

I thought I"d never forget how to care for, speak to or diaper change a toddler. It's like riding a bike, right? How hard can it be, for heaven's sake? This is what I asked myself when I offered to care for Kim and Barak's nephew.

Barak fixes my computer for the cost of my homemade Pesto Pizza. Kim I've known since, well, birth. Kim fixed me up with David. I owe her alot. (Let's not dwell on this comment because David just walked in the room and dropped a wet towel on the floor and I could change my mind about just how much I owe Kim..) Kim and Barak have a son, Little B. Little B is a bit younger than Ms. D. Kim and Barak wanted more children, but Kim was unable to. So when they assumed care (for now and the near future) of Barak's nephew, Freddie, (his mother is "unable to care for him at this time") who is two, I was thrilled for them.
Kim adores that sweet baby boy.
But Kim is working full time until April in a tax office.
Kim is having a rough time finding care for the wee boy.
Kim asks her friend Maria to help out this week.
Maria responds inwardly with "How hard can that be?" and says outwardly
"I would love to!"

Today was the day. In he walked, happy as a clam. Took off his coat and made himself at home.

He's an easy going little boy. Running and jumping and hiding and running and jumping off the furniture and running some more and grabbing things that I "Oops, honey that's not for babies!" and "Oh, boy I forgot that kids aren't supposed to have that...can I see that sweetie? No? Come back here! How could he run so fast?? Oh, Ms. D you're right that IS too sharp for him...now where did he go? Oh, sweetie, don't touch the computer! Okay, T.V....Sponge Bob, mindless T.V. sure!"

While thinking we had a bit of a break thanks to Sponge Bob and his Square Pants I tried to get a few things done. Until Ms. D comes to me tearfully. Freddie had somehow gotten a hold of a treasured sketch. Ms. D has a friend who is 15. He is the sweetest, kindest, most considerate 15 year old boy imaginable and Ms. D worships him. She saved this sketch he was doodling with one day while over at our house. She's saved it for months. It it is now in 10 little pieces. So is her heart.

Mom to the rescue. We ironed it and taped it back together. While keeping Freddie away from the iron, and the waste paper basket, and the oulets, and the lamp, and the window shade cords...oh, look! Pillows, let's jump on those, why didn't I think of that sooner??

Now it's time for lunch. Ms. D and I haven't showered. But that isn't unusual. What is unusual is the reason we haven't showered. I try to fix lunch, while Ms. D occupies Freddie. Boxes are so entertaining!
And so are kitties.

(hint: kitty is under...way, way under the shelves...smart kitty)




Kitty wants to eat, and Freddie wants to help. Freddie puts all the food spilled on the floor back into the cat dish. One, by one, by one, by one. Very concentrated effort on his part. Kitty was NOT thankful.

Meanwhile, lunch is served. In all seriousness, this kid is a charm. When you say 'no' he listens (at least to me) when you redirect, he stays redirected. Then he discovered the magnets on the washer/dryer and time stood still for him. I just watched.
This was my John Holt moment. Freddie was SO busy just taking those little magnets and putting them, no, not in his mouth, but arranging them neatly in rows.



Suddenly I thought he was the most brilliant kid EVER.

OHMYGOSH what on earth is that smell? Oh. right. I had to do it, didn't I? No one else was. Not a problem, really, how many diapers had I changed in Ms. D's lifetime? I had diaper changes SO down I could change her diaper in less than a square foot of space, with one hand, and 1/2 a baby wipe. I was that good.

Oh, Freddie tried to comply willingly, laying himself right down for the inevitable diaper change. And we managed just fine. Of course, that was ten minutes , one backwards diaper, four baby wipes and clothes scattered to the four winds, later, but it was done, by golly. I was wiped. In more ways than one. Before I could wash my hands (and they needed it....) Freddie discovered the camera....


...a few times...



Blessedly nap time came. Much to Freddie's dismay....and my dismay at the fact it lasted only a 1/2 hour. Had children changed that much in six years? Good grief, good child or no, I needed more respite...after all, I wanted to shower!

Before I knew it, Kim came through the door to pick up Freddie. Our afternoon had gone so fast. And I recalled that keeping up to a toddler is NOT like riding a bike. It's like work.

I had managed pretty well, despite the diaper debacle. I didn't get a shower, but I got to stand amazed at being reminded at how toddlers are learning constantly everysinglebusysecond of their very full lives. Ms. D. learned a lot too. (Of course, she took an hour long nap after he left, something she hasn't done in a very very long time.) She's not exactly sure what, but she did learn something.

I also have an amazing amount of respect for homeschooling moms who have more than one and some of those in diapers. I barely managed to keep up with housework and get Ms. D some school time in. Freddie amused himself quite a bit with those magnets so we managed to get some book work done. But let me tell you, I'm not sure I could handle that on a day to day basis. Honestly.

On the other hand, this picture that Ms. D took made me kind of wistful. And not just because my butt looks big.

Mom, This Is What I’m Doing While Not Schooling Your Grand daughter….

...but at least I thought of you....

Heaven knows I usually don't have time for polls and "who are you"/"what type are you" whilst online. Frankly, they, at times, make me roll my eyes. (give me a Glamour magazine on a long plane trip to WI and that is another story) but I was checking out this gardening blog: This Garden Is Illegal


...and of course, I thought of you. And your gardening prowess (I know your rolling your eyes because you haven't gardened for awhile, but your hand with plant life if renown amongst family members along with your ability to get a stain out of virtually ANYTHING...and your cooking, let's not forget that, which totally digresses into the fact I Got NONE of these genes. Nada.) and well, anyway, this site led me to this poll in which one defines which plant type one is by answering a few questions. Well, being the crazy kind of gal I am, my answers were all over the board. I couldn't wait to find out what type of plant I was as you can well imagine...wondering if I was perhaps an amaryllis that my grandmother loves, or a free wheelin' daisy.

When all was revealed I find I'm an Echinacea??? And the funniest part is the description:

You Are an Echinacea

"You are a health conscious person, both your health and the health of others. You know all about the health benefits and dangers of the world around you."

Which of course, brought me full circle back to YOU, Mom. Because you've always made me fully aware of all the dangers around me in life (see Worst Case Scenario Series that I firmly believe you should've wrote first. You had a niche and it's now too late to cash in on it....leaving me the profit as inheritance...)which is another thing along with your stain removal and gardening prowess and cooking that you are fully and lovingly and endearingly known for. (okay, there are times we laugh behind your back, but I suspect you know that...)AND that I actually inherited!

I sign myself proudly,

Your Little Echinacea

Not So Knitty

I would really, really, like to get into knitting. But can one do it all? Blog, homeschool, AND knit??

Well, the answer is yes, many women do that and more. But I haven't caught up yet.

(Mom and Grandma)

Meanwhile, I do so enjoy looking at knitting blogs. Here is one I thought my Mom and Grandma (whom should have a laptop to enjoy all these knitting blogs, don't you think?) would especially enjoy. She's got such beautiful pictures and wonderful links.

Now about those fingerless gloves I requested, Mom?