My newest garden bed, part 2

so ... Neal just had to catch me working, in a photograph, so it could be duly noted that I am active.  Here we have the peat moss and a couple of kinds of poop ... right on top of some broken-down cardboard boxes from our local grocery store.  I love that you don't need to dig up the grass or fuss with a rental rototiller. 

The clumps of grass in the bed are Neal's.  I wanted him to take them out.  I thought people might get a mixed message about what to put in a square- foot -garden- no- soil bed.  I guess we have been married long enough that he just chooses to ignore me when it is most convenient.  Ok ... so do I.  (but for those people who need clarity on what goes into a real square foot garden, dried up grass clippings belong in the composter ... not here)



The next add-in is the vermiculite, which has a rather lengthy health risk list.  Not very crunchy sounding, but very tempting to a 10 year old child who, of course, knowing nothing about NOT breathing in the dust, decides to dip his hands into the bag and start sifting.  He heard both of us yell things then.  (all loving, encouraging, up-lifting words, to be sure). 

See Mom work.  See Mom work hard.  (later, see Mom wish she just decided to forfeit the garden and visit the air-conditioned grocery store).



I am still trying to decide if I want to keep that fence you see at the back of the picture, to the left of me.  Whoever built it must have thought that dividing the yard did something, only I have no idea what, except that it divides.  I could maybe build an arbour.  I guess.  If I pull it down, then the backs of the "stone" gardens would just look retarded.  I need to think on it some more.  Neal is out back right now laying out a wooden "map", if you will, on the top of the "soil" so we can do the whole plant- per- foot deal.  Guess this is mostly all we are doing these days.  I have bronchitis and my sinuses are toast.  School is tres relaxed ... but Mom finally learned how to barbeque this week, so I am a happy student of the grill now. I must admit that I kind of burnt the rotdogs for lunch but considering what they are made of I don't think it really matters much.

Happy Birthday, anotherblog!

this day, May 29, brings joy to our wee home as Neal is another year older (but will never be as old and wise as me).  We celebrated last night since our oldest has a year-end Scout party and my girlfriend has an Usborne book party I may be able to slip over to now that we are all partied out. (plus jury duty turned out to be half interesting, mostly boring, not even over yet and I felt I needed cake).  My man is great, and I am a very blessed woman to have turned his head almost fifteen years ago.

Here he is trying to put the "birthday boy" hat on his head, but, of course, like my mum, Jonam cannot wait for the picture to be set up properly ... he just aims and shoots.

Likewise with the birthday cake below.  Evan decorated this one very happily for his Pa, though he absolutely hated cake decorating classes with all girls (mostly).  Hopefully he will be offered some choices for next year's enrichment classes.  Note the left side of the cake where there is a serious lack of icing.  We left it on the kitchen island, unattended, while we relaxed on the porch ... and we have a very bratty kitten who, apparently, likes icing a lot.  nice for company, to be sure.  (gross).

train of thought

tomorrow I have to drive into town to attend jury selection.  I have been given much advice on this topic.  One woman suggested I tell the judges I have trouble sitting for long periods of time ... hmmm ... ask my kids ... not a problem.

another woman told me her husband borrowed a friend's leather jacket and went in with his arms crossed over his chest.  They rejected him.  He is also a very large farmer ... I am not.

my husband told me just recently a guy was already serving on a jury and asked to be excused to use the washroom, only he never came back into the courtroom.  tempting.  I used to hate recess in public school, so I would go into one of the bathroom stalls and stand on the toilet seat so the teacher would not see anyone in the washroom when she did her checks, and I could be spared (I was incredibly UN-athletic as a child.  no comment for my adult athletic ability)

I guess I just have to make myself get up in time and go tomorrow (a feat in itself).  Maybe my hoarse voice will simply put them off (I woke up yesterday with a nasty chest cold and sound like I have smoked for my whole life and then some) and I will be fine just as me ...

wouldn't it be great to be a homeschool reject?

Faith In Love tagged me

so, I should be a gracious host and fill in the blanks (how hard could it possibly be?)  So, here is my list of EIGHT random facts/habits ... plus it's all about me ...

1. I say that I will never un-school except that I think it is actually really a good description of what we do

2. I am constantly telling the kids to get to school except I am nowhere to be found the majority of the time, or I am everywhere all at once accomplishing next to nothing

3. I simply have to question everything and I am often driven by guilt and fear (not cool)

4. I wish I had more kids but I'm learning to be contented with two miracles

5. I wish that I did not know how hotdogs are made (and what they are made of)

6. I want to stop talking about a tattoo and just get it already

7. I love to take surveys

8. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up

I would tag half-pint, bestsister (even though she already did this), anotherblogonthefire, ~ ok, so here the guilt and fear comes in because I might actually tick someone off by asking them to do this, but I can trust the three I have listed so far.  geee.  Ok, three out of eight ain't bad ... and I'm feeling a song coming on ...

The Rules

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight

things and post these rules.

3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged

and list their names.

4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to

read your blog.

The Homeschool Response

Earlier this week I received an e-mail from someone who had written a post about homeschooling though she does not personally know any of "us".  I was pretty impressed with what she had to say and equally honoured that she contacted me both to read her blog and to comment, as a homeschooler.  Take a look at what she and others had to say, and feel free to "toot your own homeschool horn".

crucialminutiae 

My comment:

thanks for visiting my site and for representing us "homeschool freaks" so well.

JOSH, believe the "stories"!

I agree with you on the description of a typical homeschool family, though most of my homeschooling friends have many more children than just two. I am a University educated Mom of two boys, ages 12 and almost 11. We have been in the "system" and have homeschooled for 6 years also. Neither one of my kids wants to go back to "regular" school. If they did, we would prayerfully consider it and I would send them ... bringing them back home at any time they decided as well; they know homeschooling is a team effort. We homeschool because my husband and I are artists, writers and musicians and embrace the whole "crunchy" lifestyle, if you will. We are very relaxed learners as well, which is not something that can happen in the public system.

It has been my opinion for some time now that what the public schools can do for my kids is make them good consumers.



As far as socialization goes ... you are right ... I should probably skip the enrichment group picnic tomorrow morning as we attended another picnic on Monday of this week, went to a conservation area, studied tadpoles with three other families, visited with an uncle, had tea with another homeschool mom, played soccer with the homeschool league, canoed with the local Scout group and the Cub Scout camporee starts tomorrow night ...

I cannot count the number of times I have been told I am "wasting" my degree/ my time. A fellow homeschooling mom, and former Catholic teacher, told me this just tonight "yep, staying at home to raise and educate my children has been a total waste of time" I love that.

I agree that as a society we tend to question those things that we do not understand. Choosing to home-educate is certainly on the top ten list of things that are misunderstood. I have wondered if my choice threatens others. If I am questioning our public education system, does that mean parents whose children attend are shirking their job as a parent?

If I don't trust the system to give my kids a top notch education, does that mean I am silently saying those children who attend public schools are inferior?

Another great reason to homeschool is so I can choose my hours with all the flexibility I require. We can attend a late night concert because we don't have an early morning bus to catch, and I don't have any lunches to pack ... AND we can eat all the peanut butter we want. My oldest was able to participate in the local young people's theatre group this year as well, since taking a whole week off school was no big deal for us; we simply made it a part of our learning.

All in all, homeschooling is a choice that is becoming more and more popular and is turning out incredibly well-balanced young men and women every day. I am proud of the freedom to choose ... and I choose home.

~onfire

 

as MY world turns

seems that things are a little calmer on the homeschool front ... for now.  Our group has had a tough week with a couple of members, and lawyers from HSLDA were involved.  I found myself in a precarious position defending a group member that seems to have only one friend ... me.  Scary thought. 

My boys are next in line for a lesson on reconciliation. 

If only it was so easy to make it right with the bucket of tadpoles we caught with some friends yesterday.  It would seem, this morning, that there are considerably fewer moving ...

learning beyond the textbooks

I have to admit that I am addicted to learnin'

I want to expand my horizons and actually be able to follow a large chunk of intellectual discussion when I eavesdrop in on it.  I want to remember my days in school when I could debate and still be friends afterward.  I want to recall the feeling I got when I finished all the hours of research and turned in a solid paper, ready to devour the next lot of novels or take apart the next poem.  My problem is that I lack skill in the goal setting area, and my best laid plans usually get, well, laid aside.  I had fully intended to redeem my grade school years by memorizing my times tables right alongside my boys.  Grade four had me booted out of Enrichment because I didn't memorize them that year, and grade five caught me with the tables crammed onto all the crevaces of my hands, in pen (also not allowed), and had the opposite effect I was hoping for ... not an instant "A" but a trip to the Principal.  At least I have dreams ...

But even in that there is posed a challenge I have wrestled with.

Erwin McManus says some of our dreams are meant to be just that - dreams, and I for one believe him.  I have never fully embraced the thought that you can be whatever it is you want to be.  It just doesn't ring true for me.  Dreams are useful, however, and help pull us forward into the future.  They help us define our deepest longings and cause us to rely on God for direction and answers.  I remember, with much sadness, one of the greatest friends my husband and I ever had.  He lives in N Z now and we have no contact whatsoever, but when he lived near us for a short time, he challenged my thinking on so many levels.  He had issues, like we all do, but the difference with him was that he was so ready for the answers that he was unafraid of completely baring his soul to find them.  He really wanted help.  I miss that level of honesty in the homeschool and church community ... I have never found it in anyone since him.  I have tried to be that honest in many different circumstances and discovered, sadly, that people really don't seem to want to "know" as much as they ask for.

But I want to know things

I want to hear the critiques about my art.  I want to listen to the criticisms regarding my latest song.  I want to be told that the curriculum I wrote was helpful or in vain.  I want to know, like Simon Cowell told one contestant  "look ... do you want to hear the truth or not?  OK.  That was absolutely horrible.  Now you know that singing is not for you ... so you can move on"

what is so hard about honesty?  I would much rather know that my latest dream was meant to be just that than to invest myself in forcing it into reality.

I want to be and do what Father has bent me to be and do.  Therein lies freedom.

my husband

the one who didn't want a blog, has been blogging so faithfully lately ... makes me kind of feel like bloglesskristina.

He wrote about this and kind of made me feel like he had our wee family covered.  I am at a loss for posts.  this would be funny if I wasn't a writer-of-sorts.  I have kind of moved over to reading more than articulating lately (which is probably a blessed relief to those who have to listen to me ruminate and such.  lucky for Sarah I actually went back to my own country)  so, now, bestsister  gets to sit and nod while I wax (and wane), and I get to read my husband's blogs instead of creating my own.actually, the truth of the matter is that I have had to "deal" with so much garbage within my homeschool group (where I am supposed to be a Director-in-training, and already serve as newsletter editor and secretary) that I have gone on a bit of a mental vacation in the words department.  I find myself needing to re-trace some of my steps and re-evaluate where we are heading as a whole family.  While it may not be easy, it is ever so comforting to me to find the holes in the sand where I last stood, and just simply look out over the horizon of our homeschooling ... calling myself back, if you will, to the areas I need to set my face like stone; determined to do His will.  And I know that I will triumph.  (Is 50 :7).

just a question

My "other" best sister and I were talking today and out of her mouth flowed the most wonderful words of wisdom.  I count myself among the priviledged to be loved by two such amazing ladies.

why is it that Christian women are allowed to get away with speaking in such nasty, disrespectful tones?

why do we Christian women have to show every emotion every time?  as Christian women, we ought to be mature enough to be professional in our every day lives ... most of the topics we discuss are life and death ... they're Eternal.

reconciliation is a painful process but it is needed and necessary if we are to grow.

the youth group question

I came across this link on smallworld and bestsister's blogs some time ago now, but last night I was remembering my own youth group time and lamenting that things just don't seem to be the same anymore. 

My own youth group was something I pined over until I "came of age" to join.  You HAD to be in first year high school ... these days, youth group starts in grade six.  Grade six?  Come on ... what is "high school" about a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds? 

We didn't date in youth group either (though we talked about it a little), but the youth group my son went to talks about dating 101 ... they have too ... ovey 80% of the kids who attend are dating by the time they reach grade six (and doing more).

My youth group participated in youth choir, even singing Handel's Messiah once, and travelling with our Pastor to sing at congregations he was visiting preacher at, dramas (when my mom was the sunday school teacher), visiting shut-ins (who we sang for and baked goodies for)



group fasts, lock-ins at the church, volleyball tournaments with other kids from all over Ontario, mystery bike tours that often took us to Port , scavenger hunts, progressive dinners, skating and tobogganing parties, always a Superbowl party, movie marathons (where every parent knew what we would be watching because we actually asked permission), newspaper rolling, Reformation parties ...

Withe the exception of only two families, we all attended the same high school and sat with our families during service (every once in a while one could sit with a friend but if you were caught yaking instead of listening, the Pastor actually stopped the sermon until you noticed ... talk about embarassing).  In grades eight and nine, we also had to hand in our sermon notes at the end of the service.  Not an entirely bad idea.



I really enjoyed my youth group days and believe I would gladly send my boys to a group just like this one when they were high school age.  I am not against youth groups, I just don't think I get what's going on in most of them anymore. 

middle ground

I'm looking for the middle
ground
while pulling up the weeds
exposing the soil
yet unsure where to
go from here
the landscape ever widening ~

the fruits of my
labour
like the song
written last month
complete in words
yet lacking notes
or the conversation
I almost had ~

would've carried out
if I thought I'd be heard
and listened to
but not judged
or corrected

like digging in red dirt
under copious clouds
white
with varying shades of gray
full of rain

or perhaps

a reflection
of the mountains
I've yet to climb ~ kac,may 12/o7

Flashback Friday

Yesterday I tackled what I call the freezer room.  It is aptly named as it has a 14 cubic foot freezer nestled at the back.  I remember the day I received it (the freezer, not the room).  The phone rang and when I answered, the man on the other end of the phone asked if I would be home all day as he needed to deliver my freezer.  I hadn't ordered one, so I was shocked, and as I am a terribly honest person, I told him "I didn't order a freezer".  His cool reply?  "I know.  I just want to know if you will be at home so we can deliver it to you."  I told him I would be here.

Hanging up the phone, I wondered what I was going to do when the thing showed up and I couldn't pay.  It wasn't half an hour before they were at my door, freezer in tow, with a booklet explaining what had been delivered.  I reminded him once again that I didn't order a freezer and actually couldn't pay for it either.  That was when he let me know it was a gift to us, from someone who must like us an awful lot.  To this day we cannot prove who purchased it, though we have our suspicions. It sure has come in handy.

It got me thinking about memories ... good times.  As I was cleaning out everything from the freezer room (successful clean sweep, I might add) I stumbled on a Rubbermaid bin that had not been unpacked since we left St.Thomas in 2004.  When you move as often as we have, you tend to not unpack it all.  Inside, among loose silverware, great 45's and full albums, I found a bag of things Neal and I saved from our days in school.  Here are three photos I treasure ...  The first is a picture of me in grade 12 or 13 (I can't remember exactly)  doing my co-op at the St.Thomas-Elgin Art Gallery.  I am polishing a piece for the weekend display, and the local paper took my picture.  Nice bangs, eh?  My jeans were so tight at the bottom I had to take them off inside out.



The next picture was also taken by the local newspaper, but I was in University at the time.  I would get hired on as a Parks Worker each summer until I had my degree.  This job was excellent.  I remember again just how much I loved it right around this time of year ... and how I made about 10 cents more per hour than Neal did the summer I was engaged to him.  I still like to remind him of that every now and again.  My boots were way too big for me, but at that time, no one sold ladie's steel-toed anything.  Funny.   We often got caught asleep in the cab of the big, orange Sanford and Son truck while waiting for the water/fertilizer tank to fill.  A hose would be put in the tank from an outside main; the whole process taking maybe 20 minutes. BUT, when we had to start work at 5am Mon, Wed and Friday, fallling asleep was just a tad too easy ... 

My last picture was taken by a photographer at the University of Western Ontario, Brescia Ball.  Neal and I had been together for about 5 months by this time (January) and by March we were engaged.  It is a beautiful picture from 15 years ago now.  How time flies.

Thursday Throwback

          I almost couldn't post for lack of inspiration in the title area ... this is the hardest part of being an almost artist, too.  I can finish an altered book or pull a perfect print but think of a title for the piece?  My brother emailed me just yesterday asking for the title of one of my books so he can play around with some backgrounds for the best presentation photos.  Needless to say, I am stumped.  Maybe if I ignore his email for long enough he will simply title it for me (or maybe untitled sounds more professional).

So, last Thursday we tooled around Maryville (Marahvull) scoping out all the thrift stores.  I am queen of thrift shopping (been doing it all my life) but sadly found nothing.  Oh, that is actually a lie (ok, Sarah).  I did find a pair of American Eagle jeans that I was going to cut off so I could look as cool as smallworld, except they were size 0.  Size 0?  Are you kidding me?  Who is size 0?  I don't want to know.  I would also like to take this time to mention that I completely forgot that I had decided to blog, with pictures, each day of our East TN trip ... until this morning.  Oh well.  Neal did a great job highlighting.

In the afternoon, we went to the blogger's picnic that Sarah lovingly organized.  My blogger friend's list has gotten considerably longer since meeting all the cool homeschoolers that attended.   I really wish that I could say everyone here is so anxious to get together.

Here I am convincing JenIG and Weesma to move to Petrolia.  I am pretty sure that they are going to.  I am looking slouchy (as usual) but having a good hair day (unlike some people I know and live with)

I know we didn't go to McKay's on thursday, but seriously ... who wouldn't want to spend as much time as possible here?  Especially if there was to be found, among some seriously great, thrifty prices, an adorable blonde in the aisle?

           I remember very clearly the day I met the first of our local homeschoolers.  We had just moved into a 800 sq.ft. townhouse in the middle of nowhere and I had allowed my boys to run down the road a piece to play in the park while I made lunch.  In no time they came flying back into the house yelling "homeschoolers ... homeschoolers ... a bunch of kids are running around shooting each other with homemade squirt guns ... in the middle of the day ... they must be homeschoolers!"  So I gathered up my courage and went to see for myself.  I met two great Mom's and all their kids that day, and subsequently got invited to join their group (which I am going to co-direct this fall with my bestsister, though somewhat reluctantly).  This all sounds fantastic, but you need to understand that the day in question was touted as "Lambton area homeschool picnic day" and out of approx. 76 families who homeschool in this area, only these two moms bothered to show ... and they are the directors for the group.  Sad.  Homeschooling in this area is a lonely road to take

and I wouldn't trade it for the world.  but I just might need to travel to TN every once in a while.

How to Know When to Move On, or The Value of Fill-in-the-Blanks

So ... we are a bunch of very relaxed ecclectic charlottemason unschoolers that sometimes purchase dumb fill in the blank books so that something looks like it is getting done type homeschoolers. 

I sat down this afternoon to actually take a look at my youngest son's Abeka Language workbook (don't ask too much ... it really seemed like a good idea at the time because I could assign a bunch of pages and then go off and play Zuma or talk on the phone).  I wish I was kidding.

Anyway, before I even really read the assignment he had completed I found myself writing "fun!" on the page in a slanted real teacher sort of way.  Then I had a novel thought ... maybe it would be nice if I didn't just do everything orally and took some time to read what he wrote.  I hope you enjoy this slice of Campbell pie because it sums us up pretty well.

ACTUAL STUDENT WORK (no children were harmed in the making of this post)

          While travelling   throughout, I met an interesting gentleman in a brown suitcase.  I asked him to tell me about himself.  His story was most unusual.  As a child, he grew up underneath a trailer and never went to the bathroom.  He was the last on his mother's side.  His father worked as a taxidriver and his mother made extra money at the shoestore.  In a barrel, he decided he should earn a living, too.  A man who worked at a toilet store offered to teach him his trade.  Up until then, he wanted a change of trade.  He then devoted his life to constipation.  He wrote a book about it.  After that, I learned the value of fibre. 

Tuesday Timecapsule

If you would prefer the "all-in-one" style of vacation-recapping, then I suggest you visit the wonderful blog of my husband anotherblogonthefire .  He did his whole post up last night because we found out yesterday that he has pneumonia.  No wonder he kept coughing and was not feeling up to snuff while we were adventuring.  Poor guy.  He has to stay home from work for three days, and I get to sort of enjoy his company - whatever company he can be when he is not in bed sleeping!

Last Tuesday, we went to hear a wonderful speaker, Clayton Narveson, tell us about WWll and the Depression.  I found the whole thing very fascinating, and would have gladly listened for longer.  I was even impressed with the amount of American history questions I could answer.  My kids knew quite a lot as well.

Most impressive to me was the number of people who actually showed up to hear Mr. Narveson.  Over 120 Neal counted.  If someone had put that on for this area, I would be embarrassed at the lack of interest (guess it explains why things like that aren't attempted outside of the Public Schools (and only for Remembrance Day).  You can see that some people even had to stand!  Another reason to brag about homeschooling ... in Blount County ...

Monday Memory

As I look back on the week we spent in TN with some people that we supposedly did not know I can only explain the way I feel by saying that I just knew that it was going to be a great thing.  I have some mixed thoughts as I wade my way through the pictures.  I can hardly believe we won't see the Smalls any more than I can believe we really had to drive almost 10 hours for the experience.  Arriving around supper (convenient) Sunday night, we sat in their living room and had some great conversation.  Monday was a quiet day as drhibiscus was at work and Sarah had Monday Fun Day classes, so Neal and I sat drinking hot tea in the garden, enjoying the heat and wondering how we came to be so blessed ...



OK ... so I see a plastic wrapper of some kind in behind the iris ... these people said they were environmentally concerned ... what is up with that?  I can tell you one thing, though ... I know just where I would be today with my cup of tea if I had a choice.  The reality is that we have school to finish up in just under 5 weeks, and the grass is half way up to my knees (and there is a lot of it), and it's laundry day and I live in Southwestern Ontario, so I need a jacket to go outside still.  As much as we have always wanted to stay in Tennessee (since our first stay as a couple, back in 1997) I think there is a tad more to consider than simply saying "let's move to Blount County", even if we've had encouragement from a few people we were priviledged to meet along the way ... brownsugar  jenig   sixredheads  Suzanne   partyoffive (fyftn)   QueenoftheHill  sharonkay weesma and blogless, lurking leigh.

you saw a beautiful woman in your backyard
because she was with her family
and her love for them shone through her eyes
and it caused her to notice things
she had, perhaps, never seen before
or had not taken the time to see
as beautiful, too
and she picked up a toad
even though she knew
she would get pee-ed on
for hands can be washed
but time will not stand still

the zoo

We arrived home to find our menagerie still alive and quite happy to see us.  The kitten had gotten into his food bag and (truly) seems larger to us than he did last week.  Even our older, cranky cat Louise came right up to my husband for some affection (highly unusual).  My only regret is not cleaning out the one fish tank before we left.  Not only is it totally gross to look at, but I cannot fathom (too bad it isn't that deep) how he is still living.  The tinier fish, Ace, is just fine ...  Just look at poor Lyall's living conditions...



We are also thinking that there is a possible co-relation between our kitten's apparent growth spurt and the ripped kitten food bag that we found.  I only purchased it on Thursday last and it looks like I will need to buy a new bag on the way home from Homeschool classes this coming Friday.

Pig.



 

Tomorrow I am going to post my first trip down memory lane from last week's adventure.  Today I felt like moping mostly ...