Ran the 5K this morning, no prizes, or surprises there. G would have come in 1st, if they had not for some odd reason eliminated the 9 and under category this year. Oh well, we had a good time and it was a (breathtakingly?) beautiful day.
Visited the laundromat and did a rather haphazard grocery shop, cleaned the house, blah, blah, blah.
Narrowed down our itinerary for the Colonial American Field Trip and pinned down an approximate departure date. Yikes, it's already up to 25 days, and that's assuming there are no delays. I'm a big planner, can you tell? My father is also a scheduling maniac, that must be where I get it. Between the two of us, we'll keep everybody moving right along. We are getting close to finishing for the year...six weeks of history to complete. We only do a four day week, so I could speed things up a little if we went to five days. We'll see how it goes.
Next year I'm planning to use A History of US as our spine, but need to include some world history, so tonight I'll be looking over The Story of Mankind as a possible supplement. I have both George Washington's World and Abraham Lincoln's World, and I like them, but may save them for a general review later, otherwise there's too much duplication.
Off to read...
Sunday, February 29, 2004
You're Brave New World!
by Aldous Huxley
With an uncanny ability for predicting the future, you are a true
psychic. You can see how the world will change and illuminate the fears of future
generations. In the world to come, you see the influence of the media, genetic
science, drugs, and class warfare. And while all this might make you happy, you
claim the right to be unhappy. While pregnancy might seem painful, test tube
babies scare you most. You are obsessed with the word "pneumatic".
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Saturday, February 28, 2004
What a day...
Spent the entire day out running errands. Preregistered for the 5K on Sunday and checked out the preschool on the island to our south. L wants to go to school; Mommy school isn't interesting enough, I guess, but unfortunately, school's full up for the next two years. She is so eager to learn, it's a little scary. By this age (3.5) S was reading fluently and G was about to, and I know you're not supposed to compare your children, BUT, this one is writing and spelling already, not reading exactly, except what she writes down. I'm not comparing, mind you, just marveling.
My MIL loves to say, "I'm glad I'm not raising children smarter than I am." I'm never quite sure who she's referring to...
Had to go shoe shopping, for kids' sandals and new sneakers. Their sandals were just a horrible, embarrassing mess and their sneakers are all packed away in some box somewhere. Bought myself a pair of sneakers, the first pair I think I've owned since high school. If it's not a wedding or a funeral, and even then there have been exceptions, I'm wearing my Birkies, or else I'm barefoot. Thought about running in them, but figured that probably wasn't such a great idea. Running shoes, tennis shoes, cross-trainers, aerobic shoes, walkers... It was all so complicated.
During the time we wasted in the mall, the temperature had dropped about 20 degrees, and the sun was setting. I raced home in the remaining light, but by the time we arrived at the marina, it was pitch black, cloudy, windy, and cold. G had driven over to the east coast this morning to do his payroll and was on his way back, but had been delayed and still had three hours to go before he returned. I opted to head on home with the girls.
Got everybody loaded up and then discovered the boat lights were not working properly. Had the red and green navigation lights barely on, but no rear white light and no dashboard lights, so I couldn't read the instruments. Decided it was such a lousy night that nobody else would be out there on the water and we'd just take it slow. Made it out of the marina, through the two bridges, found the first two Intracoastal markers and made my turn across the bay. Couldn't see the next marker WAY on the other side, but held a steady course in the approximate direction. Getting close, I slowed down almost to an idle looking for the marker that should be on my left, but worried that it may be coming straight at me, when I caught a glimpse of it about 30 feet to my right. AHHHH! FLATS!! Quick, hard right back into the channel, searching for the second marker when I see a boat coming at us in the opposite direction. "Oh, good!" I think, "that must be the channel!" Wrong. They were just some other morons out in this rotten weather. And they were stuck on the flats. Then we were too, but just momentarily, as I lucked out again. Phew.
We made it home, bundled up, snuggled on the couch and did a little reading. Dad made it out safely a few hours later and surprised me with a week's worth of Indian food. What a guy. Ate a little and promptly froze the rest.
So now, off to bed I go, safe, sound, and looking forward to the wild dreams that always follow an extra hot vindaloo.
My MIL loves to say, "I'm glad I'm not raising children smarter than I am." I'm never quite sure who she's referring to...
Had to go shoe shopping, for kids' sandals and new sneakers. Their sandals were just a horrible, embarrassing mess and their sneakers are all packed away in some box somewhere. Bought myself a pair of sneakers, the first pair I think I've owned since high school. If it's not a wedding or a funeral, and even then there have been exceptions, I'm wearing my Birkies, or else I'm barefoot. Thought about running in them, but figured that probably wasn't such a great idea. Running shoes, tennis shoes, cross-trainers, aerobic shoes, walkers... It was all so complicated.
During the time we wasted in the mall, the temperature had dropped about 20 degrees, and the sun was setting. I raced home in the remaining light, but by the time we arrived at the marina, it was pitch black, cloudy, windy, and cold. G had driven over to the east coast this morning to do his payroll and was on his way back, but had been delayed and still had three hours to go before he returned. I opted to head on home with the girls.
Got everybody loaded up and then discovered the boat lights were not working properly. Had the red and green navigation lights barely on, but no rear white light and no dashboard lights, so I couldn't read the instruments. Decided it was such a lousy night that nobody else would be out there on the water and we'd just take it slow. Made it out of the marina, through the two bridges, found the first two Intracoastal markers and made my turn across the bay. Couldn't see the next marker WAY on the other side, but held a steady course in the approximate direction. Getting close, I slowed down almost to an idle looking for the marker that should be on my left, but worried that it may be coming straight at me, when I caught a glimpse of it about 30 feet to my right. AHHHH! FLATS!! Quick, hard right back into the channel, searching for the second marker when I see a boat coming at us in the opposite direction. "Oh, good!" I think, "that must be the channel!" Wrong. They were just some other morons out in this rotten weather. And they were stuck on the flats. Then we were too, but just momentarily, as I lucked out again. Phew.
We made it home, bundled up, snuggled on the couch and did a little reading. Dad made it out safely a few hours later and surprised me with a week's worth of Indian food. What a guy. Ate a little and promptly froze the rest.
So now, off to bed I go, safe, sound, and looking forward to the wild dreams that always follow an extra hot vindaloo.
Thursday, February 26, 2004
Movie binge
We rented Whale Rider for the girls and watched it last night. We had seen it in the theatre, but they enjoyed it so much they've been begging for it again. I'm rooting for Keisha Castle-Hughes as best actress this year.
G also brought home To Kill A Mockingbird, which I was hoping to have them read first, but it's one of his favorite movies, so I guess we'll give it a go.
Two nights ago, the girls and I watched Shakespeare in Love. I'd seen it in the theatre with my friend Alex a few years back on an earlier movie binge. G can't stand sitting still for more than hour, so Alex and I would head out for a midnight movie after G and the girls were all tucked in and sound asleep. I wasn't really impressed with it at the time, I thought Elizabeth was more Oscar worthy, but this time I appreciated it so much more. I knew it was rated R, but couldn't remember why. Oops. Thank goodness the girls seemed nonplussed by the sex scenes. Aside from the acting which was very good, I'd just finally finished an article on Miramax and Bob and Harvey Weinstein (in Vanity Fair, maybe?), so watching it with an eye toward contracts and production negotiations was additionally entertaining. I'd forgotten Ben Affleck was in this, and his and Matt Damon's experience with the Weinsteins reminded me that I need to also see Good Will Hunting, but alas, our rinky-dink video shop doesn't have it. Instead I picked up The Shawshank Redemption.
That should keep me busy for awhile.
G also brought home To Kill A Mockingbird, which I was hoping to have them read first, but it's one of his favorite movies, so I guess we'll give it a go.
Two nights ago, the girls and I watched Shakespeare in Love. I'd seen it in the theatre with my friend Alex a few years back on an earlier movie binge. G can't stand sitting still for more than hour, so Alex and I would head out for a midnight movie after G and the girls were all tucked in and sound asleep. I wasn't really impressed with it at the time, I thought Elizabeth was more Oscar worthy, but this time I appreciated it so much more. I knew it was rated R, but couldn't remember why. Oops. Thank goodness the girls seemed nonplussed by the sex scenes. Aside from the acting which was very good, I'd just finally finished an article on Miramax and Bob and Harvey Weinstein (in Vanity Fair, maybe?), so watching it with an eye toward contracts and production negotiations was additionally entertaining. I'd forgotten Ben Affleck was in this, and his and Matt Damon's experience with the Weinsteins reminded me that I need to also see Good Will Hunting, but alas, our rinky-dink video shop doesn't have it. Instead I picked up The Shawshank Redemption.
That should keep me busy for awhile.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Mardi Gras
Just to show you how out of it I am, I thought Mardi Gras was last week. We inadvertently celebrated it last night, in conjunction with G's b-day, when she made us all silly paper hats to wear for her party. Earlier in the day, the girls threw a masquerade ball for Orlando, our marmalade, and ever so patient, cat, and Jack the hedgehog. The poor things were forced to wear crowns and masks, while they all danced to Bach.
We had a change of plans for the birthday cake. I couldn't locate my recipe for the lemon chiffon cake, but did find one for a lemon pound cake with lemon glaze that I had saved on my computer. We decided to triple the recipe, technically getting our math in for the day, and share one of the cakes with Mr. and Mrs. N in appreciation for all the yummy treats they send our way. It was challenging, trying to blend a triple-sized batch of batter a mano, but I figure I burned enough calories to enjoy a guilt free second helping. Oh my, was it good.
I realized yesterday how much I miss my cookbooks. My all time favorite is a Depression era cookbook that belonged to G's grandmother. Only have two eggs? One? None? No butter? No sugar? Need to bake a cake? No problem! All the substitutions you could ever need and more, plus Mom D's notes in the margins.
The girls hiked over to deliver the cake, and just as I was getting a little nervous about the length of time they'd been gone, they came trudging across the yard with three bags in their hands. Books! The Ns had culled their library and prepared three large stacks of books for Goodwill...until mine showed up. G giggled that they only have one medium size stack now, and how it was like getting another birthday present.
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My nieces left yesterday. So? Weren't we thinking about leaving the country and all our extended family for two years ourselves? Well, yeah, but we were going as one big happy family. These poor kids aren't going to see their dad but three times a year now.
I woke up at some point last night, probably after Letterman when the TV clicked itself off, and was wide awake for hours with a strong sense of foreboding. I hope they're OK. As bad as things have been over the past two years for those kids, they've always had, in addition to their dad of course, my mom or my other brother, or even me, to pop in on them up in NJ, or bring them down for a visit here, and provide some sort of comfort. Now they're gone.
It'll hit my brother hard this weekend when they don't show up.
We had a change of plans for the birthday cake. I couldn't locate my recipe for the lemon chiffon cake, but did find one for a lemon pound cake with lemon glaze that I had saved on my computer. We decided to triple the recipe, technically getting our math in for the day, and share one of the cakes with Mr. and Mrs. N in appreciation for all the yummy treats they send our way. It was challenging, trying to blend a triple-sized batch of batter a mano, but I figure I burned enough calories to enjoy a guilt free second helping. Oh my, was it good.
I realized yesterday how much I miss my cookbooks. My all time favorite is a Depression era cookbook that belonged to G's grandmother. Only have two eggs? One? None? No butter? No sugar? Need to bake a cake? No problem! All the substitutions you could ever need and more, plus Mom D's notes in the margins.
The girls hiked over to deliver the cake, and just as I was getting a little nervous about the length of time they'd been gone, they came trudging across the yard with three bags in their hands. Books! The Ns had culled their library and prepared three large stacks of books for Goodwill...until mine showed up. G giggled that they only have one medium size stack now, and how it was like getting another birthday present.
------------
My nieces left yesterday. So? Weren't we thinking about leaving the country and all our extended family for two years ourselves? Well, yeah, but we were going as one big happy family. These poor kids aren't going to see their dad but three times a year now.
I woke up at some point last night, probably after Letterman when the TV clicked itself off, and was wide awake for hours with a strong sense of foreboding. I hope they're OK. As bad as things have been over the past two years for those kids, they've always had, in addition to their dad of course, my mom or my other brother, or even me, to pop in on them up in NJ, or bring them down for a visit here, and provide some sort of comfort. Now they're gone.
It'll hit my brother hard this weekend when they don't show up.
Ash Wednesday
How well I remember the giggly whispers in church, "I hope I don't get Monsignor!" The poor old guy would just bump you on the forehead with his giant thumb. He didn't dip as frequently either, so you were doomed to receive a very faint, sprawling smudge. Our pastor, Father M., on the other hand, gave a very crisply defined cross. People were known to jump to his line.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Sophie's World
S is a little creeped out by this book. We made it through the first three chapters last night and she is not sure she wants to continue. She says the questions Sophie is wondering about are the ones she has been thinking of lately. It is frustrating to her that there are no clear cut answers.
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OK, my computer just notified me that Bush has approved a constitutional amendment barring gay marriage. Why should this be included in our Constitution?! This is outrageous.
The Amendments are added protections for the people against an intrusive government. Who is this protecting?
How far have we strayed from the original intent of our founding fathers?
Everybody, sing it:
We, the people [of the UNITED STATES], in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
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OK, my computer just notified me that Bush has approved a constitutional amendment barring gay marriage. Why should this be included in our Constitution?! This is outrageous.
The Amendments are added protections for the people against an intrusive government. Who is this protecting?
How far have we strayed from the original intent of our founding fathers?
Everybody, sing it:
We, the people [of the UNITED STATES], in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
Today will be a short school day, thanks to the fact that most of their work was completed yesterday, and also because it is G's birthday. Yeah, I'm a mean mom, making her do some schoolwork today. We are on a serious schedule to finish up so that we can go off on our big Colonial American expedition ASAP.
My little late-night buddy is nine today. I had the pleasure of being the first to wish her a happy birthday just after midnight, as we finished up a chapter in Harry Potter.
Her wish for today was to bake a cake, so a little later, when we know what time Dad and L will return, we'll get busy whipping up a lemon chiffon cake with apricot coulis.
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Warning: Birth Story Ahead...
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The Friday she was born, I'd had a morning appointment with my OB/GYN, who told me nothing was happening yet, but it would probably be over the weekend. Being that he was a friend of ours and he would not be on duty that weekend, and he had missed the birth of our first daughter, he told us to be sure and have the nurse call him at home so he could be there for us.
My MIL offered to babysit my oldest, giving us a chance to enjoy a nice dinner out and we managed last minute reservations at our favorite, wildly popular restaurant. Labor started halfway there. Big ones, less than two minutes apart. So much for dinner.
At the hospital, I decided I'd like to try an epidural this time, but because we were cash customers (read no insurance), the hospital required payment in advance. I told them I would be glad to go back down to my car RIGHT NOW and fetch my checkbook. My husband chuckled, "She must be in transition..." Ha ha, Mr. Funnyman.
They hooked me up on the table and out she popped. Start to finish, 45 minutes, completely natural, no time for our OB friend to arrive. I must say, she was perfectly beautiful and very alert and I felt great, ready to hop off the table and go home, but very hungry, so G ran out and brought back stacks of mini brick oven pizzas for everyone. She could have easily been named Margherita (mmmmm, fresh tomato and garlic...) Several doctors, also fans of our favorite dining spot, expressed regrets over our forfeited dinner reservations.
My little late-night buddy is nine today. I had the pleasure of being the first to wish her a happy birthday just after midnight, as we finished up a chapter in Harry Potter.
Her wish for today was to bake a cake, so a little later, when we know what time Dad and L will return, we'll get busy whipping up a lemon chiffon cake with apricot coulis.
-------------
Warning: Birth Story Ahead...
-------------
The Friday she was born, I'd had a morning appointment with my OB/GYN, who told me nothing was happening yet, but it would probably be over the weekend. Being that he was a friend of ours and he would not be on duty that weekend, and he had missed the birth of our first daughter, he told us to be sure and have the nurse call him at home so he could be there for us.
My MIL offered to babysit my oldest, giving us a chance to enjoy a nice dinner out and we managed last minute reservations at our favorite, wildly popular restaurant. Labor started halfway there. Big ones, less than two minutes apart. So much for dinner.
At the hospital, I decided I'd like to try an epidural this time, but because we were cash customers (read no insurance), the hospital required payment in advance. I told them I would be glad to go back down to my car RIGHT NOW and fetch my checkbook. My husband chuckled, "She must be in transition..." Ha ha, Mr. Funnyman.
They hooked me up on the table and out she popped. Start to finish, 45 minutes, completely natural, no time for our OB friend to arrive. I must say, she was perfectly beautiful and very alert and I felt great, ready to hop off the table and go home, but very hungry, so G ran out and brought back stacks of mini brick oven pizzas for everyone. She could have easily been named Margherita (mmmmm, fresh tomato and garlic...) Several doctors, also fans of our favorite dining spot, expressed regrets over our forfeited dinner reservations.
Monday, February 23, 2004
This morning I told L, as I tell her almost every morning, that she can not turn on our TV, which is hidden in an antique Hoosier cabinet, because her sisters have schoolwork to do and they would be distracted. This was her solution...
Fortunately, G was heading back over to the east coast for the day and overnight, and offered to take her with him. In the relative peace and quiet, the girls finished all of today's work and got a headstart on tomorrow's as well.
We're getting ready to pop some brownies in the oven and enjoy our new read-aloud, Sophie's World.
Fortunately, G was heading back over to the east coast for the day and overnight, and offered to take her with him. In the relative peace and quiet, the girls finished all of today's work and got a headstart on tomorrow's as well.
We're getting ready to pop some brownies in the oven and enjoy our new read-aloud, Sophie's World.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
SW Florida Media
Because we have a TV with rabbit ears and spotty reception, these days I get most of my news from the Internet. Our local CBS affiliate comes in clearest, so that's what I watch if I need a weather forecast. The coverage used to drive me crazy. After years of Miami's slick, cranked-up, Newsplex-style, I had to put up with leash law and road closure stories. Hokey, hometown stuff. National? International? Forget it. G would call me up and ask if I had heard about the latest Big News Story. Nope, not here.
Bowling For Columbine made the point that all factors considered, it is the American media which creates and perpetuates our culture of fear and violence. I think it was Neil Postman in Amusing Ourselves to Death, who said that real news is only that which actually effects you, causing you to alter your plans in some way.
This is certainly the real thing.
Aside from watching the weather occasionally, I usually skip the local news, but I have developed a new appreciation of their coverage. By promoting good news, they have eliminated the anxiety promoted in other markets.
Tonight, prime time, they were broadcasting, live, the Edison Festival of Lights Parade from Fort Myers. I love it.
Bowling For Columbine made the point that all factors considered, it is the American media which creates and perpetuates our culture of fear and violence. I think it was Neil Postman in Amusing Ourselves to Death, who said that real news is only that which actually effects you, causing you to alter your plans in some way.
This is certainly the real thing.
Aside from watching the weather occasionally, I usually skip the local news, but I have developed a new appreciation of their coverage. By promoting good news, they have eliminated the anxiety promoted in other markets.
Tonight, prime time, they were broadcasting, live, the Edison Festival of Lights Parade from Fort Myers. I love it.
Waffle No More
G was at his favorite store, Home Depot yesterday, purchasing the materials to complete the screened porch addition, when our realtor, Bob, called us with yet another full price offer. Quick closing, cash. Since G was in sell mode, he reshelved his plywood and headed over to Bob's office to set the terms. I was trying to hide my disappointment at his decision, after ditching school and spending a picture perfect day at the beach with the girls, but I just wanted him to be happy.
My husband, in addition to being a builder, also has his real estate license and comes from a family of realtors and developers, so he just can't help himself when it comes to checking out the market. Bob showed him several projects that are getting underway in our immediate vicinity. Well, that's all it took. We're staying.
G had been worried about job prospects. Yeah, we've got a high quality of life out here, but we'd be struggling financially. G wants to reduce his stress level, get out of contracting, and had been considering operating a barge service. We'd be lucky to keep the lights on.
Supposedly this place is ready to bust wide open. Investors plan to create a new Naples or Palm Beach in our little ol' corner of the world. Not that I want that...but it sure makes earning a living a whole lot easier.
Hurray!
My husband, in addition to being a builder, also has his real estate license and comes from a family of realtors and developers, so he just can't help himself when it comes to checking out the market. Bob showed him several projects that are getting underway in our immediate vicinity. Well, that's all it took. We're staying.
G had been worried about job prospects. Yeah, we've got a high quality of life out here, but we'd be struggling financially. G wants to reduce his stress level, get out of contracting, and had been considering operating a barge service. We'd be lucky to keep the lights on.
Supposedly this place is ready to bust wide open. Investors plan to create a new Naples or Palm Beach in our little ol' corner of the world. Not that I want that...but it sure makes earning a living a whole lot easier.
Hurray!
Friday, February 20, 2004
Apologizing for the past
First let me say, I'm against the idea of reparations. My point of view lumps it in there with frivolous lawsuits; it smacks of something for nothing, a free ride. Slavery was a horrible thing, still is, but so many people have been subjugated throughout history, how far back do you go?
Reparations for American Slaves?
Suing Swiss banks for treasures stolen during the Holocaust?
Returning the Elgin Marbles?
I cannot think of one successful civilization whose wealth was not built on the backs of others. If everyone were to hand over their ill-gotten goods, wouldn't everything end up back somewhere, say, around the Golden Crescent, the Cradle of Civilization? Where do you draw the line?
In the Atlantic, Ben Birnbaum takes an amusing tongue-in-cheek look at Egyptian reparations for the Exodus.
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A quick aside, Slaves in the Family by Ed Ball is a fascinating, well-researched book on the saga of his ancestors and the people they owned on their South Carolina rice plantations.
It is my hope to one day complete a similar research project.
Reparations for American Slaves?
Suing Swiss banks for treasures stolen during the Holocaust?
Returning the Elgin Marbles?
I cannot think of one successful civilization whose wealth was not built on the backs of others. If everyone were to hand over their ill-gotten goods, wouldn't everything end up back somewhere, say, around the Golden Crescent, the Cradle of Civilization? Where do you draw the line?
In the Atlantic, Ben Birnbaum takes an amusing tongue-in-cheek look at Egyptian reparations for the Exodus.
------------
A quick aside, Slaves in the Family by Ed Ball is a fascinating, well-researched book on the saga of his ancestors and the people they owned on their South Carolina rice plantations.
It is my hope to one day complete a similar research project.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
Busy
My parents came out for the night Tuesday. The kids were glad to see them, especially L. My mother, a retired early childhood specialist, brought out some first grade reading primers and a Harcourt Science text for L. I know that she's reading ready, but I disagree with my mother that L "needs" to be in school. Yes, she's obviously lacking for some attention, but to just stick her in preschool seems to validate my theory that preschool is nothing more than glorified babysitting. L was in preschool for a short time over on the east coast when I wanted to spend more time on her sisters' studies. She enjoyed it, but her father and I were less enthused. There were bake sales, and pumpkin patches, and holiday parties, and being Snack Mom a week at a time. After notifying the office that she would miss school for some reason or another, we were still cross-examined upon our return. Ummm, I thought that since I was paying for it, in school or not, it shouldn't matter. Silly me.
Anyway, Grandma spent every minute reading to L, which was very nice. She loved every minute of it. I pointedly ignored the See-what-a-great-job-I'm-doing-you-need-to-spend-more-time-with-her looks I kept getting after L correctly responded to every comprehension question posed by my mother in her sing-song elementary school teacher voice.
What really amazes me is how much L adores my mother. The other two were never overly affectionate towards her, and now can see through most of her pretense, but L just LOVES her Grandma. Again, this is the child that she believes is payback for my childhood. If one was a conspiracy nut, one might wonder.
L is very bright (her first word at 11 mos. was "coconut") and will probably begin to read, like her sisters, at an early age, without any pressure from me. A preschool is certainly not going to encourage her to read. Why go then? My mother's defense is that she needs school to learn, and that little ones learn through play. True, but she has that ability here. I must try and remember that my mother comes from an era where parents believed school was the only place for a child to be. After all, if it was good enough for her...
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I spent my free time rethinking my plan for next year and organizing my history studies on the computer (in between the You-spend-too-much-time-on-the-computer-no-wonder-your-little-one-runs-away looks from You Know Who.) This time around we'll be using A History of US as our spine for American history, supplementing with George Washington's World and Abraham Lincoln's World for a world history view, all of which are already on our bookshelves.
Much of my extensive book list has been pared down, since A History of US sufficiently covers topics that I initially thought needed additional reading material. Tapestry of Grace worked out OK for us this year, but I never maximized its potential and the additional expense could best be spent elsewhere. I also want to include more literature than TOG recommends and return to Write With the Best, which I already own, rather than TOG's writing, which I was not crazy about.
This looks to be a cheap year.
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Trying to finalize my plans for our end of the year, giant Colonial America field trip. My parents will be traveling up north with the girls and me. My father loves visiting historical sites, She Who Must Not Be Named is a big stick-in-the-mud, but will be useful in helping to manage the baby.
Our itinerary so far:
St. Augustine
Jamestown
Williamsburg
Philadelphia - Independence Hall/Liberty Bell
Boston - Freedom Trail
Plimoth Plantation
Provincetown
(maybe Nantucket and/or Martha's Vineyard, just for the heck of it)
Salem
We have family in Boston, Salem and Cape Cod, so the schedule's skewed to spend time visiting those places. We'll also spend some time with my brother in NJ, visiting museums in NYC and on the return trip plan to see:
Mystic Seaport
Washington DC
Monticello
Mount Vernon
Yorktown
and hopefully, Greenville
Greenville is the tobacco plantation that my father's family established in Virginia in 1753 after receiving the land as a crown grant. They lived there for more than 100 years, through the Revolutionary War, where my ancestor bought his way out of the fighting by sending someone to fight in his place, being the Loyalist he was, right on up to the beginning of the Civil War. My great-great grandfather, the last generation raised there, moved to Baltimore after the death of his father and ended up supporting the north, receiving a commission as a naval engineer in the Union Navy. My parents have his commission and sword on display in what my brother affectionately calls, the Tacky Museum.
Years ago on a past trip up the coast, I was able to locate it, but didn't have time to do any in depth research. There is supposed to be a family plot somewhere on the property, which at that time was still being operated as a farm, but may now be a housing development. The present house was built in 1860 by the next owner. It is a magnificent old ruin and you can almost see the ladies in hoop skirts twirling around, although as the war progressed, that area saw intense fighting and I don't know if the new owners ever spent much time in the house. I'd like to find out if the 'new' house was built on the foundation of the old, and if not, where that was located. The kitchen building is still out back, but I didn't see any evidence of slave cabins. Last time, I brought some pictures back for my dad, but I'd love to take him to see it and find the family plot.
Trying to schedule this trip so that we don't hit Spring Break or summer vacation.
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Tonight we are in for a special treat. Our neighbor, the one L went AWOL to the other day, and who eerily resembles my mother, is a professional folklorist and storyteller. She is heading up to an annual storyteller meeting in Orlando next week before embarking on a tour of their local public schools, and wants to practice her story on the girls. We'll be enjoying an Uncle Remus, Brer Rabbit tale. Fun!
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Since we took the island off the market, we've received three offers. One good one and two full-price. G is willing to consider them and we may have a bidding war on our hands. The contract for the big house doesn't officially expire until the end of this month, even though we notified the seller that the deal was dead, so we could still end up moving in that direction. G wants to take the money and run if it's an easy deal.
I don't care either way at this point. Whatever works for him. I just want to feel some permanency.
I watched The Hours last night. The woman defends her decision to leave her life and family in the 'burbs saying, "That was death, I chose life." As stultifying as our option to move back to civilization may seem, I'm looking at it as an opportunity to have a base and do some traveling. I choose life too, even if I'm destined to be surrounded by pea-brains. We have standing invites from friends to visit their homelands in Turkey and India and we'd finally have the ability to take them up on their offers. Plus, next week my dear nieces will be moving to England for two years.
-----------
As I've mentioned before, education has never been a priority with my ex-sister-in-law. She is planning to have her girls attend an American school in London. Why? Because they may not be able to understand their teachers and because they don't know the metric system. Huh? Does she not realize they speak English in England?! I could see if they were going to a country where they were unfamiliar with the language, but even then, what a great opportunity for immersion! And the metric system, that's even easier than our own. (sigh)
------------
I tore through The Da Vinci Code, what a fun story that was! I am now very interested in symbology and I must go visit the Louvre one day, not to seek the Grail, just to admire its fabulous architecture. Just a quick trip through the Chunnel...
Anyway, Grandma spent every minute reading to L, which was very nice. She loved every minute of it. I pointedly ignored the See-what-a-great-job-I'm-doing-you-need-to-spend-more-time-with-her looks I kept getting after L correctly responded to every comprehension question posed by my mother in her sing-song elementary school teacher voice.
What really amazes me is how much L adores my mother. The other two were never overly affectionate towards her, and now can see through most of her pretense, but L just LOVES her Grandma. Again, this is the child that she believes is payback for my childhood. If one was a conspiracy nut, one might wonder.
L is very bright (her first word at 11 mos. was "coconut") and will probably begin to read, like her sisters, at an early age, without any pressure from me. A preschool is certainly not going to encourage her to read. Why go then? My mother's defense is that she needs school to learn, and that little ones learn through play. True, but she has that ability here. I must try and remember that my mother comes from an era where parents believed school was the only place for a child to be. After all, if it was good enough for her...
------------
I spent my free time rethinking my plan for next year and organizing my history studies on the computer (in between the You-spend-too-much-time-on-the-computer-no-wonder-your-little-one-runs-away looks from You Know Who.) This time around we'll be using A History of US as our spine for American history, supplementing with George Washington's World and Abraham Lincoln's World for a world history view, all of which are already on our bookshelves.
Much of my extensive book list has been pared down, since A History of US sufficiently covers topics that I initially thought needed additional reading material. Tapestry of Grace worked out OK for us this year, but I never maximized its potential and the additional expense could best be spent elsewhere. I also want to include more literature than TOG recommends and return to Write With the Best, which I already own, rather than TOG's writing, which I was not crazy about.
This looks to be a cheap year.
-----------
Trying to finalize my plans for our end of the year, giant Colonial America field trip. My parents will be traveling up north with the girls and me. My father loves visiting historical sites, She Who Must Not Be Named is a big stick-in-the-mud, but will be useful in helping to manage the baby.
Our itinerary so far:
St. Augustine
Jamestown
Williamsburg
Philadelphia - Independence Hall/Liberty Bell
Boston - Freedom Trail
Plimoth Plantation
Provincetown
(maybe Nantucket and/or Martha's Vineyard, just for the heck of it)
Salem
We have family in Boston, Salem and Cape Cod, so the schedule's skewed to spend time visiting those places. We'll also spend some time with my brother in NJ, visiting museums in NYC and on the return trip plan to see:
Mystic Seaport
Washington DC
Monticello
Mount Vernon
Yorktown
and hopefully, Greenville
Greenville is the tobacco plantation that my father's family established in Virginia in 1753 after receiving the land as a crown grant. They lived there for more than 100 years, through the Revolutionary War, where my ancestor bought his way out of the fighting by sending someone to fight in his place, being the Loyalist he was, right on up to the beginning of the Civil War. My great-great grandfather, the last generation raised there, moved to Baltimore after the death of his father and ended up supporting the north, receiving a commission as a naval engineer in the Union Navy. My parents have his commission and sword on display in what my brother affectionately calls, the Tacky Museum.
Years ago on a past trip up the coast, I was able to locate it, but didn't have time to do any in depth research. There is supposed to be a family plot somewhere on the property, which at that time was still being operated as a farm, but may now be a housing development. The present house was built in 1860 by the next owner. It is a magnificent old ruin and you can almost see the ladies in hoop skirts twirling around, although as the war progressed, that area saw intense fighting and I don't know if the new owners ever spent much time in the house. I'd like to find out if the 'new' house was built on the foundation of the old, and if not, where that was located. The kitchen building is still out back, but I didn't see any evidence of slave cabins. Last time, I brought some pictures back for my dad, but I'd love to take him to see it and find the family plot.
Trying to schedule this trip so that we don't hit Spring Break or summer vacation.
-----------
Tonight we are in for a special treat. Our neighbor, the one L went AWOL to the other day, and who eerily resembles my mother, is a professional folklorist and storyteller. She is heading up to an annual storyteller meeting in Orlando next week before embarking on a tour of their local public schools, and wants to practice her story on the girls. We'll be enjoying an Uncle Remus, Brer Rabbit tale. Fun!
-----------
Since we took the island off the market, we've received three offers. One good one and two full-price. G is willing to consider them and we may have a bidding war on our hands. The contract for the big house doesn't officially expire until the end of this month, even though we notified the seller that the deal was dead, so we could still end up moving in that direction. G wants to take the money and run if it's an easy deal.
I don't care either way at this point. Whatever works for him. I just want to feel some permanency.
I watched The Hours last night. The woman defends her decision to leave her life and family in the 'burbs saying, "That was death, I chose life." As stultifying as our option to move back to civilization may seem, I'm looking at it as an opportunity to have a base and do some traveling. I choose life too, even if I'm destined to be surrounded by pea-brains. We have standing invites from friends to visit their homelands in Turkey and India and we'd finally have the ability to take them up on their offers. Plus, next week my dear nieces will be moving to England for two years.
-----------
As I've mentioned before, education has never been a priority with my ex-sister-in-law. She is planning to have her girls attend an American school in London. Why? Because they may not be able to understand their teachers and because they don't know the metric system. Huh? Does she not realize they speak English in England?! I could see if they were going to a country where they were unfamiliar with the language, but even then, what a great opportunity for immersion! And the metric system, that's even easier than our own. (sigh)
------------
I tore through The Da Vinci Code, what a fun story that was! I am now very interested in symbology and I must go visit the Louvre one day, not to seek the Grail, just to admire its fabulous architecture. Just a quick trip through the Chunnel...
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
A.D.D.?
That must be what it is. I simply don't have enough attention to concentrate on three children simultaneously.
Yesterday, as we did our lessons, I watched L toddle off behind her father as he was showing some people the available properties in our area. The problem was, I assumed he knew she was tagging along. Well, you know what they say about assuming, right? We all raced out of the house in a panic after he returned without her and indicated he had no idea where she was. Dad checked the water near the docks, S ran to the beach, G ran to the neighbors', and I stayed combing our yard and the yard of the house next door. It turned out OK, she had traipsed through the woods over to a neighbors house for a visit. Her sister arrived just as the neighbor, Mrs. N, began to walk her back home. We, Mrs. N, Dad, me and the sisters, all gave her a talk about how serious that was and how worried we were.
This is my danger baby. The only one who's been to the hospital, to have her stomach x-rayed after she refused to tell us whether or not she had swallowed the Legos we found her choking on; the one we had to call Poison Control for when she proudly exclaimed that she "dwank the bwown bottle" (hydrogen peroxide); the one who climbs and likes to hide... I was about to post how I thought she may have finally passed through this horrible stage (PLEASE let it be a stage) and then this.
It was embarrassing enough, looking like a completely neglectful parent, then she did it again.
At dusk, she snuck out of the house with a flashlight. Dad was repairing the water pump which had gone out and instructed her to go back in because he was working with electricity and it was dangerous, but the little bugger had other plans. She went back over to the same neighbors' house. This time Mrs. N told her that she would not let her in, because she had broken the terms of their agreement by arriving alone.
This is the child my mother believes is revenge for my high-spirited youth. I can't have been that bad.
Yesterday, as we did our lessons, I watched L toddle off behind her father as he was showing some people the available properties in our area. The problem was, I assumed he knew she was tagging along. Well, you know what they say about assuming, right? We all raced out of the house in a panic after he returned without her and indicated he had no idea where she was. Dad checked the water near the docks, S ran to the beach, G ran to the neighbors', and I stayed combing our yard and the yard of the house next door. It turned out OK, she had traipsed through the woods over to a neighbors house for a visit. Her sister arrived just as the neighbor, Mrs. N, began to walk her back home. We, Mrs. N, Dad, me and the sisters, all gave her a talk about how serious that was and how worried we were.
This is my danger baby. The only one who's been to the hospital, to have her stomach x-rayed after she refused to tell us whether or not she had swallowed the Legos we found her choking on; the one we had to call Poison Control for when she proudly exclaimed that she "dwank the bwown bottle" (hydrogen peroxide); the one who climbs and likes to hide... I was about to post how I thought she may have finally passed through this horrible stage (PLEASE let it be a stage) and then this.
It was embarrassing enough, looking like a completely neglectful parent, then she did it again.
At dusk, she snuck out of the house with a flashlight. Dad was repairing the water pump which had gone out and instructed her to go back in because he was working with electricity and it was dangerous, but the little bugger had other plans. She went back over to the same neighbors' house. This time Mrs. N told her that she would not let her in, because she had broken the terms of their agreement by arriving alone.
This is the child my mother believes is revenge for my high-spirited youth. I can't have been that bad.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Friday the 13th
I know it was yesterday, but yesterday was a big day. We did it, we canned the deal on the big house and don't have to worry about a lawsuit. The island it is! We called the realtor and instructed him to take this place off the market. My Valentine's Day present is sitting out on the dock right now. Approximately one ton of lumber for our new screened in porch. Woohoo! We'll be up to 700 sq. ft in no time!
Also began surgery on my lap top. Most of the day, and a good portion of the evening was spent trying to save HUGE files on floppies. It's critical, but stable, thanks for asking.
------------
Hmmmm. Wondering about the use of the F word in the previous post. Is vulgarity acceptable? When? Is it better to be true to the quote, or censor for decency's sake?
Also began surgery on my lap top. Most of the day, and a good portion of the evening was spent trying to save HUGE files on floppies. It's critical, but stable, thanks for asking.
------------
Hmmmm. Wondering about the use of the F word in the previous post. Is vulgarity acceptable? When? Is it better to be true to the quote, or censor for decency's sake?
Parental Advisory - Explicit Content
Last night, G and I watched Bowling for Columbine. (I forgot to get The Hours again.) Thought provoking, to say the least. This summed it all up for me:
-----------------
Michael Moore interviewing Marilyn Manson, on Manson's music being blamed for the incident...
Manson:
The two by-products of that whole tragedy were violence in entertainment and gun control, and how perfect that that was, the two things we were going to talk about with the upcoming election... And also then we forgot about Monica Lewinsky and we forgot about the president who's shooting bombs overseas... Yet, I'm a bad guy, because I sing some rock-n-roll songs. And who's a bigger influence, the president or Marilyn Manson? I'd like to think me, but I'm gonna go with the president.
Moore:
Did you happen to know that the day Columbine happened, the United States dropped more bombs on Kosovo than any other time during that war?
Manson:
I do know that and I think that's really ironic, you know, that nobody said, well, maybe the president had an influence on this violent behavior. No, because that's not the way the media wants to take it and spin and turn it into fear. 'Cause then, you're watching television, you're watching the news, you're being pumped full of fear: There's floods, there's AIDS, there's murder, cut to commercial, "Buy the Acura," "Buy the Colgate," if you have bad breath they're not gonna talk to you, if you got pimples, the girl's not gonna fuck you. And it's just this... It's a campaign of fear and consumption... And that's what I think that it's all based on, is the whole idea, that, keep everyone afraid, and they'll consume. And that's really as simple as it can be boiled down to.
Moore:
Right. If you were to talk directly to the kids at Columbine and the people of that community, what would you say to them if they were here right now?
Manson:
I wouldn't say a single word to 'em... I'd listen to what they have to say. And that's what no one did.
------------
Don't judge a book by it's cover. Manson is a master showman, and once you get beyond the surface, his values are not so different from many thinking parents. He knows why kids are disaffected. He understands American culture.
Jorge and I have seen Marilyn Manson a couple times: once in 1993 at a Halloween Eve show in Miami Beach at the Cameo Theatre and again ten years later at Ozzfest '03 in West Palm Beach (after learning that my childhood friend and schoolmate, "Skipper," was the keyboardist for the band and having to see it with my own eyes.)
-----------------
Michael Moore interviewing Marilyn Manson, on Manson's music being blamed for the incident...
Manson:
The two by-products of that whole tragedy were violence in entertainment and gun control, and how perfect that that was, the two things we were going to talk about with the upcoming election... And also then we forgot about Monica Lewinsky and we forgot about the president who's shooting bombs overseas... Yet, I'm a bad guy, because I sing some rock-n-roll songs. And who's a bigger influence, the president or Marilyn Manson? I'd like to think me, but I'm gonna go with the president.
Moore:
Did you happen to know that the day Columbine happened, the United States dropped more bombs on Kosovo than any other time during that war?
Manson:
I do know that and I think that's really ironic, you know, that nobody said, well, maybe the president had an influence on this violent behavior. No, because that's not the way the media wants to take it and spin and turn it into fear. 'Cause then, you're watching television, you're watching the news, you're being pumped full of fear: There's floods, there's AIDS, there's murder, cut to commercial, "Buy the Acura," "Buy the Colgate," if you have bad breath they're not gonna talk to you, if you got pimples, the girl's not gonna fuck you. And it's just this... It's a campaign of fear and consumption... And that's what I think that it's all based on, is the whole idea, that, keep everyone afraid, and they'll consume. And that's really as simple as it can be boiled down to.
Moore:
Right. If you were to talk directly to the kids at Columbine and the people of that community, what would you say to them if they were here right now?
Manson:
I wouldn't say a single word to 'em... I'd listen to what they have to say. And that's what no one did.
------------
Don't judge a book by it's cover. Manson is a master showman, and once you get beyond the surface, his values are not so different from many thinking parents. He knows why kids are disaffected. He understands American culture.
Jorge and I have seen Marilyn Manson a couple times: once in 1993 at a Halloween Eve show in Miami Beach at the Cameo Theatre and again ten years later at Ozzfest '03 in West Palm Beach (after learning that my childhood friend and schoolmate, "Skipper," was the keyboardist for the band and having to see it with my own eyes.)
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Made my reservation for the FPEA Homeschooling Convention in May, but not convinced I really need to go...
On one hand I can check out curricula, be inspired and regain motivation and focus in the seminars, visit with Stephanie, enjoy a nice hotel...
On the other, it's expensive, and many of the speakers and vendors are faith-based.
Last year, I took in a seminar or two purely for entertainment purposes, the titles were just too intriguing to pass up. My favorite was not just interesting, but jaw-droppingly, mind-bogglingly bizarre: "Dinosaurs: Jehovah's Park vs. Jurassic Park" by Catie Frates. I wanted to share the astonishingly illogical science presentation with my family when I got back up to our room, but she raced through her proofs so quickly, my frantic notetaking couldn't keep up (I eventually bought the CD.) The crowd was all pumped up, hootin' and hollerin' and shoutin' "Amen!" It was a little frightening -- I had visions of the crowd detecting an unbeliever and turning on me -- and then, this was more than a bit unnerving, at the end of it all, a little girl came up to me and asked me, perhaps after observing my mad scribbling, what was the one most interesting thing I had learned during this seminar. Oh, honey, where to start?!
That one was worth the price of admission.
----------------
G arrived on the island today with plans to stay through the weekend. He asked L where all those new freckles on her nose came from and she giggled, "Dey just gwoad dayah, silly! Like a plant."
She certainly keeps us amused.
When her big sisters studied the Dutch painters a few weeks back, she had to get in on the act. They were looking up Rembrandt's home in the atlas, when L jumped up, ran to the wall map and saying, "I know, I know! Bwim-bwam lives heeyah!", and pointed to Arizona.
On one hand I can check out curricula, be inspired and regain motivation and focus in the seminars, visit with Stephanie, enjoy a nice hotel...
On the other, it's expensive, and many of the speakers and vendors are faith-based.
Last year, I took in a seminar or two purely for entertainment purposes, the titles were just too intriguing to pass up. My favorite was not just interesting, but jaw-droppingly, mind-bogglingly bizarre: "Dinosaurs: Jehovah's Park vs. Jurassic Park" by Catie Frates. I wanted to share the astonishingly illogical science presentation with my family when I got back up to our room, but she raced through her proofs so quickly, my frantic notetaking couldn't keep up (I eventually bought the CD.) The crowd was all pumped up, hootin' and hollerin' and shoutin' "Amen!" It was a little frightening -- I had visions of the crowd detecting an unbeliever and turning on me -- and then, this was more than a bit unnerving, at the end of it all, a little girl came up to me and asked me, perhaps after observing my mad scribbling, what was the one most interesting thing I had learned during this seminar. Oh, honey, where to start?!
That one was worth the price of admission.
----------------
G arrived on the island today with plans to stay through the weekend. He asked L where all those new freckles on her nose came from and she giggled, "Dey just gwoad dayah, silly! Like a plant."
She certainly keeps us amused.
When her big sisters studied the Dutch painters a few weeks back, she had to get in on the act. They were looking up Rembrandt's home in the atlas, when L jumped up, ran to the wall map and saying, "I know, I know! Bwim-bwam lives heeyah!", and pointed to Arizona.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Anti-momism
After reading the excerpt from The Mommy Myth: The Idealization of Motherhood and How it Has Undermined Women, I think the book will make a great baby shower gift for my sister-in-law. She may not get it, but it's my duty to try and enlighten her.
I personally do not succumb to the pressure of being an uber-mom. Want to raise the perfect child? My recommendation: brainwashing techniques. It really is that simple.
Counting down to an empty nest...14 years, 148 days to go!
I personally do not succumb to the pressure of being an uber-mom. Want to raise the perfect child? My recommendation: brainwashing techniques. It really is that simple.
Counting down to an empty nest...14 years, 148 days to go!
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Misc.
This weekend, the girls read Dangerous Journey: The Story of Pilgrim's Progress to their dad. They LOVE this book and wanted to share it with him. Poor G was so tired though, he kept dozing off.
-----------
S finished The Hobbit and is tearing through The Fellowship of the Ring. We're continuing our read-aloud of The Three Musketeers, with renewed interest after watching The Man in the Iron Mask. Still trying to catch G up on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I've discovered a hidden talent... I can read aloud, in character, in my sleep. When I finally come to a snoring halt, and get a nudge from the girls, I find that I have gone on for up to three pages without any recollection of the story.
-------------
After all her schoolwork was finished yesterday, G continued her new game of school with little sister, L. The lessons included place value flash cards, counting money, first declension Latin chants, and a history-themed art project. They converted an empty case of beer into a castle and created a whole cast of royal characters, while listening to a CD of medieval music and discussing monks.
She is in there now, reviewing the money lesson and planning to read some of the miniature Peter Rabbit books aloud for L.
--------------
Our neighbor came by yesterday for a book swap. We let her borrow The Golden Compass, and I got The Da Vinci Code. Not sure when I'll get to it, but I'm looking forward to it...
--------------
My MIL officially gave me this laptop. I felt bad, because I haven't been successful in extracting the files from my real laptop, and it's taken much longer than I planned, although I think I may finally have a way to do it and will maybe work on it this evening. She told me to keep this one, and when I insisted that I will return it, because I'm close to fixing my other one, she half-jokingly wondered if hers wasn't good enough. OK, OK, I'll keep it! Thanks!! Told you she was cool.
------------
Meanwhile back at the ranch:
G is packing and moving furniture out of the east coast house. It seems very strange to be moving and not involved in the physical end of it. Can't say I miss it, but I do feel sorry for G, just more work and stress for him.
After closing the second deal there, he came across a few odds and ends from the first deal that were unresolved, mostly having to do with additional charges overlooked in the closing costs. The buyer wanted his portion of the deposit money returned but didn't want to pay for the additional expenses incurred. G, never one to nickel and dime it, gave it all back, with a stern lecture on good faith business practices. He's a softy. He also makes deals on a handshake, which is noble, but in my opinion, insane, given this overly litigious society we live in. He decided on principle that he was not going to be a jerk like this guy was to him, and back out of the agreement to buy the big house (which we could legally do.) We will go ahead and close on it, try living there and if we can't stand it, stick a For Sale sign on it and pursue island life again. We can't have our cake and eat it too. One or the other is going to have to go, but since we will have both for the short term, we might as well give it a try...
-----------
S finished The Hobbit and is tearing through The Fellowship of the Ring. We're continuing our read-aloud of The Three Musketeers, with renewed interest after watching The Man in the Iron Mask. Still trying to catch G up on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I've discovered a hidden talent... I can read aloud, in character, in my sleep. When I finally come to a snoring halt, and get a nudge from the girls, I find that I have gone on for up to three pages without any recollection of the story.
-------------
After all her schoolwork was finished yesterday, G continued her new game of school with little sister, L. The lessons included place value flash cards, counting money, first declension Latin chants, and a history-themed art project. They converted an empty case of beer into a castle and created a whole cast of royal characters, while listening to a CD of medieval music and discussing monks.
She is in there now, reviewing the money lesson and planning to read some of the miniature Peter Rabbit books aloud for L.
--------------
Our neighbor came by yesterday for a book swap. We let her borrow The Golden Compass, and I got The Da Vinci Code. Not sure when I'll get to it, but I'm looking forward to it...
--------------
My MIL officially gave me this laptop. I felt bad, because I haven't been successful in extracting the files from my real laptop, and it's taken much longer than I planned, although I think I may finally have a way to do it and will maybe work on it this evening. She told me to keep this one, and when I insisted that I will return it, because I'm close to fixing my other one, she half-jokingly wondered if hers wasn't good enough. OK, OK, I'll keep it! Thanks!! Told you she was cool.
------------
Meanwhile back at the ranch:
G is packing and moving furniture out of the east coast house. It seems very strange to be moving and not involved in the physical end of it. Can't say I miss it, but I do feel sorry for G, just more work and stress for him.
After closing the second deal there, he came across a few odds and ends from the first deal that were unresolved, mostly having to do with additional charges overlooked in the closing costs. The buyer wanted his portion of the deposit money returned but didn't want to pay for the additional expenses incurred. G, never one to nickel and dime it, gave it all back, with a stern lecture on good faith business practices. He's a softy. He also makes deals on a handshake, which is noble, but in my opinion, insane, given this overly litigious society we live in. He decided on principle that he was not going to be a jerk like this guy was to him, and back out of the agreement to buy the big house (which we could legally do.) We will go ahead and close on it, try living there and if we can't stand it, stick a For Sale sign on it and pursue island life again. We can't have our cake and eat it too. One or the other is going to have to go, but since we will have both for the short term, we might as well give it a try...
The Talk
Thinking about this after reading Darby's posts...
I don't know what my girls know exactly. I've never sat down them down and gone through the whole thing (soup to nuts?!), but have pointed out pertinent facts when applicable. They've got a copy of The Care and Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls, so they know plenty about that. Once they left that book at my parents' house and my father, opening it up to the wrong page, nearly had a heart attack, thinking he had discovered some kind of porn after seeing the cartoon of the little girl demonstrating tampon insertion.
My parents are a little on the uptight side. Sex was explained to me in a very perfunctory, clinical way when I was about six. A cousin, 15 years older, loves to remind me how, at that age, I asked her if she wanted to hear something really weird, and then launched into the whole reproduction story. Just a few years later though, I remembered none of it. After seeing someone stick their middle finger out, I asked my mother what it meant and she explained that it represented what a husband and wife do when they want to have children. I grew up thinking it was a secret code, some hand signal you flashed to someone when you wanted to have sex, and your potential partner would flash it back to you. She also left me unprepared for my first period, which had the misfortune of making its appearance when she was out of town, and I was staying with my grandfather.
So, I began my sex ed, in earnest, as an autodidact. Between the "R" volume of World Book and my grandfather's collection of Harold Robbins novels, I learned more than enough.
I want my girls to be at ease with their bodies, and understand that sex is normal and natural and even enjoyable; not purely an act of procreation between a husband and wife. I may not be approaching this the right way however, because the other day, after hearing of another of S's friends who have started their periods, I casually broached the subject of puberty with S and G, and they both went running out of the room with their fingers in their ears, "Lalalalalalalalalalala! I can't hear you!!"
On a positive note, I now know how to instantly clear a room.
I don't know what my girls know exactly. I've never sat down them down and gone through the whole thing (soup to nuts?!), but have pointed out pertinent facts when applicable. They've got a copy of The Care and Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls, so they know plenty about that. Once they left that book at my parents' house and my father, opening it up to the wrong page, nearly had a heart attack, thinking he had discovered some kind of porn after seeing the cartoon of the little girl demonstrating tampon insertion.
My parents are a little on the uptight side. Sex was explained to me in a very perfunctory, clinical way when I was about six. A cousin, 15 years older, loves to remind me how, at that age, I asked her if she wanted to hear something really weird, and then launched into the whole reproduction story. Just a few years later though, I remembered none of it. After seeing someone stick their middle finger out, I asked my mother what it meant and she explained that it represented what a husband and wife do when they want to have children. I grew up thinking it was a secret code, some hand signal you flashed to someone when you wanted to have sex, and your potential partner would flash it back to you. She also left me unprepared for my first period, which had the misfortune of making its appearance when she was out of town, and I was staying with my grandfather.
So, I began my sex ed, in earnest, as an autodidact. Between the "R" volume of World Book and my grandfather's collection of Harold Robbins novels, I learned more than enough.
I want my girls to be at ease with their bodies, and understand that sex is normal and natural and even enjoyable; not purely an act of procreation between a husband and wife. I may not be approaching this the right way however, because the other day, after hearing of another of S's friends who have started their periods, I casually broached the subject of puberty with S and G, and they both went running out of the room with their fingers in their ears, "Lalalalalalalalalalala! I can't hear you!!"
On a positive note, I now know how to instantly clear a room.
Monday, February 09, 2004
Re: Poll posts
Here are some miscellaneous replies/thoughts. Thank you for your comments. This is a real, difficult decision that we will have to make, on our own, but the input of people with similar values is important to us, since we are surrounded by family and friends who just don't get us.
Waffling is a word we use all the time around here. Options are great, but too many options can cripple decision making, that's what's happened here. From our original decision to relocate to Australia, to staying in the US, to WHERE in the US, to staying in South Florida, to WHERE in South Florida. We're not cookie-cutter-walled-subdivision-type people. My MIL, who never interferes, practically begged us not to take the girls away from her. We've even waffled on whether or not she has the right to impose on our future like that, but ultimately, she's been good to us and we can't bear to do that to her. She's also advised us, wise real estate investor that she is, to always buy the best address you can afford, even if you have to live in the basement. That would be A, although she'd like to see us in a real house.
Decluttering, ha! I could teach the Flylady a thing or two. We're not terribly materialistic, most of our belongings have been in storage over two years and there's little we miss, but I do miss a few items that we just don't have room for, like my great grandmother's china.
G needs to reduce his stress level. He's a candidate for a heart attack. We want him to be more of a participating member of our family vs. the cash cow.
Money in the bank would be nice (me being a pessimist about the economy) and would enable us to travel more, but I suppose we've managed plenty of traveling so far with no money in the bank. G's resourceful enough to keep the lights on, no matter what he ends up doing. And who need lights anyway, right?
As to expansion/renovation plans, well, G is a builder, so that means our construction factors should be multiplied by four! You know that old saw, "The cobbler's children have no shoes." Come to think of it, my little barefoot crackers don't have a decent pair of shoes either.
Let's see, other considerations: Culture -- at least an hour away from both. Security -- A, definitely, just for its inaccessibility; Demographics -- A: blandly homogeneous; B: diverse.
I'm naturally a hermit and G's very extroverted, but he prefers to personally distance himself from the prole masses. Living in town would be an exercise in limiting involvement with neighbors, and the B property is conducive to that, but we'd probably be singled out as snobs.
We've even considered years down the road: A big, empty house when the kids are gone, or a smaller, more manageable place? Where would the children, even grandchildren, rather come back to visit? A.
A hardships, aside from extra work involved in any regular venture, include salty well water, crummy plumbing, loads of interior-dwelling bugs and critters (carpenter ants made a nest in my printer last year and the other day inside a roll of tinfoil, but mostly the lizards take care of the insect problems), the ever present, powdery sand, occasional red tide and subsequent fish kills, you get the picture... BUT, for all its drawbacks, heading across the bay on a glorious day can make doing the most mundane tasks feel like a vacation.
Our biggest concern is obviously the children. Are we building strong character or animosity by living such a pared down, rough existence? As they get older and more independent, wanting to spend more time with various in-town activities, how will we manage that from offshore?
It all boils down to quality vs. quantity.
Waffling is a word we use all the time around here. Options are great, but too many options can cripple decision making, that's what's happened here. From our original decision to relocate to Australia, to staying in the US, to WHERE in the US, to staying in South Florida, to WHERE in South Florida. We're not cookie-cutter-walled-subdivision-type people. My MIL, who never interferes, practically begged us not to take the girls away from her. We've even waffled on whether or not she has the right to impose on our future like that, but ultimately, she's been good to us and we can't bear to do that to her. She's also advised us, wise real estate investor that she is, to always buy the best address you can afford, even if you have to live in the basement. That would be A, although she'd like to see us in a real house.
Decluttering, ha! I could teach the Flylady a thing or two. We're not terribly materialistic, most of our belongings have been in storage over two years and there's little we miss, but I do miss a few items that we just don't have room for, like my great grandmother's china.
G needs to reduce his stress level. He's a candidate for a heart attack. We want him to be more of a participating member of our family vs. the cash cow.
Money in the bank would be nice (me being a pessimist about the economy) and would enable us to travel more, but I suppose we've managed plenty of traveling so far with no money in the bank. G's resourceful enough to keep the lights on, no matter what he ends up doing. And who need lights anyway, right?
As to expansion/renovation plans, well, G is a builder, so that means our construction factors should be multiplied by four! You know that old saw, "The cobbler's children have no shoes." Come to think of it, my little barefoot crackers don't have a decent pair of shoes either.
Let's see, other considerations: Culture -- at least an hour away from both. Security -- A, definitely, just for its inaccessibility; Demographics -- A: blandly homogeneous; B: diverse.
I'm naturally a hermit and G's very extroverted, but he prefers to personally distance himself from the prole masses. Living in town would be an exercise in limiting involvement with neighbors, and the B property is conducive to that, but we'd probably be singled out as snobs.
We've even considered years down the road: A big, empty house when the kids are gone, or a smaller, more manageable place? Where would the children, even grandchildren, rather come back to visit? A.
A hardships, aside from extra work involved in any regular venture, include salty well water, crummy plumbing, loads of interior-dwelling bugs and critters (carpenter ants made a nest in my printer last year and the other day inside a roll of tinfoil, but mostly the lizards take care of the insect problems), the ever present, powdery sand, occasional red tide and subsequent fish kills, you get the picture... BUT, for all its drawbacks, heading across the bay on a glorious day can make doing the most mundane tasks feel like a vacation.
Our biggest concern is obviously the children. Are we building strong character or animosity by living such a pared down, rough existence? As they get older and more independent, wanting to spend more time with various in-town activities, how will we manage that from offshore?
It all boils down to quality vs. quantity.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
After reading Mental Multivitamin this evening, I remembered, only too late, what that movie was that I've been wanting to see for such a long time.
See, we finally got a video rental membership at our local outlet (welcome to the 20th Century) and today when I went to return The Man in the Iron Mask, and found Whale Rider unavailable, I drew a blank and grabbed the first movie I saw. I stink under pressure. It turned out to be The Patriot, which is probably not too bad, but there's always a few of those really interesting movies that I missed the first time around, and now may actually get to see.
Not only is The Hours one of those movies that my husband would actually watch and enjoy (he's not afraid of his feminine side), it's one we've been wanting to see ever since they filmed part of it in our old neighborhood. The segment with Julianne Moore playing a 1940s woman, in what I guess is supposed to be Hollywood, California, was filmed in a house two streets over from us, in Hollywood, Florida. We watched them film the scene where someone's out driving and has a near collision. That was one street over from ours. Fun to see all those old cars speeding around. Some excitement in the 'burbs.
By the way, reading that post on the 'burbs, I felt a little like ol' Charlie Manson must've felt, listening to The Beatles... ;)
See, we finally got a video rental membership at our local outlet (welcome to the 20th Century) and today when I went to return The Man in the Iron Mask, and found Whale Rider unavailable, I drew a blank and grabbed the first movie I saw. I stink under pressure. It turned out to be The Patriot, which is probably not too bad, but there's always a few of those really interesting movies that I missed the first time around, and now may actually get to see.
Not only is The Hours one of those movies that my husband would actually watch and enjoy (he's not afraid of his feminine side), it's one we've been wanting to see ever since they filmed part of it in our old neighborhood. The segment with Julianne Moore playing a 1940s woman, in what I guess is supposed to be Hollywood, California, was filmed in a house two streets over from us, in Hollywood, Florida. We watched them film the scene where someone's out driving and has a near collision. That was one street over from ours. Fun to see all those old cars speeding around. Some excitement in the 'burbs.
By the way, reading that post on the 'burbs, I felt a little like ol' Charlie Manson must've felt, listening to The Beatles... ;)
These guys are at it again
Poll
This should be simple. A or B...
A)
-- A way too small cottage, with the promise of future expansion into an adequately sized house, possibly within two years. Need for outside storage rental.
-- A pristine environment in an unusual, isolated location.
-- Continual logistical challenges to everyday living.
-- No extra money.
-- Dad changes to a less stressful, much lower paying career and is available every day.
-- Sky high property values.
B)
-- Your family's absolute dream house/estate. More than enough room.
-- A small farm town that you will never really fit into or like much.
-- Convenience of living in-town.
-- Two years worth of income in the bank.
-- Dad remains in stressful position for a while before establishing new career, has long commute and is available partial weekends until then.
-- Stable property values.
Which would you pick? Why?
A)
-- A way too small cottage, with the promise of future expansion into an adequately sized house, possibly within two years. Need for outside storage rental.
-- A pristine environment in an unusual, isolated location.
-- Continual logistical challenges to everyday living.
-- No extra money.
-- Dad changes to a less stressful, much lower paying career and is available every day.
-- Sky high property values.
B)
-- Your family's absolute dream house/estate. More than enough room.
-- A small farm town that you will never really fit into or like much.
-- Convenience of living in-town.
-- Two years worth of income in the bank.
-- Dad remains in stressful position for a while before establishing new career, has long commute and is available partial weekends until then.
-- Stable property values.
Which would you pick? Why?
Friday, February 06, 2004
Carlie Brucia
Horrible.
How do you teach your children to be safe? Is it possible to ever really be safe?
We're not homeschooling to hide away from the world (that's just added value), so I don't hide reality from my girls. Most likely, they will grow up to be as much a cynic as I am. On one level, that's sad, on another, it might save their life.
My three year old wanted to know about the bad man that took the little girl, after I snapped on the news to hear of any updates. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know if he was brown. The latter comment startled me, not just for its racist implications, but because in her mind, bad guys should look a certain way. That scares the hell out of me.
A friend and I were nearly abducted when we were about 9 years old. We were walking along the wall behind her house that separated our subdivision from the commercial properties beyond, when a normal-looking man approached us from the business side of the wall and offered to pay us $5.00 each if we would wash his car. We didn't see any car. We were nervous. He assured us his fancy, red sportscar was just out of sight, around the side of the bank building. We told him no thanks, we thought we better get going home, and that's when he reached up and grabbed my friend by the arm. Paralyzed with fright, she never resisted. I thought about running back to get her mom, but I knew she wouldn't be there when I got back. I tried to scream, and after a few self-conscious attempts, finally got a good one out, after which my friend finally came back to her senses and joined in. The guy took off.
A few years later, a girl disappeared walking from our neighborhood to the drug store, on her way to buy posterboard for a school project. She was last seen crossing a vacant lot, adjacent to that same wall. Related? Who knows. It obviously made a lasting impression on me.
Sure, my mother had given me Never Talk to Strangers, but she also taught me to be quiet, polite and respectful, to the point of obsequiousness, to adults. She never taught me that strangers can be young and handsome, that they don't have to look like bad guys (or camels with bony knees.)
Teach your children to be suspicious and aware. Teach them that bad guys don't look like the boogeyman; they might look like the friendly old man two doors down. Teach them to yell and scream, to be defiant and fight back; not to worry about manners and hurt feelings, or being nice and quiet.
A terrible lesson.
How do you teach your children to be safe? Is it possible to ever really be safe?
We're not homeschooling to hide away from the world (that's just added value), so I don't hide reality from my girls. Most likely, they will grow up to be as much a cynic as I am. On one level, that's sad, on another, it might save their life.
My three year old wanted to know about the bad man that took the little girl, after I snapped on the news to hear of any updates. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know if he was brown. The latter comment startled me, not just for its racist implications, but because in her mind, bad guys should look a certain way. That scares the hell out of me.
A friend and I were nearly abducted when we were about 9 years old. We were walking along the wall behind her house that separated our subdivision from the commercial properties beyond, when a normal-looking man approached us from the business side of the wall and offered to pay us $5.00 each if we would wash his car. We didn't see any car. We were nervous. He assured us his fancy, red sportscar was just out of sight, around the side of the bank building. We told him no thanks, we thought we better get going home, and that's when he reached up and grabbed my friend by the arm. Paralyzed with fright, she never resisted. I thought about running back to get her mom, but I knew she wouldn't be there when I got back. I tried to scream, and after a few self-conscious attempts, finally got a good one out, after which my friend finally came back to her senses and joined in. The guy took off.
A few years later, a girl disappeared walking from our neighborhood to the drug store, on her way to buy posterboard for a school project. She was last seen crossing a vacant lot, adjacent to that same wall. Related? Who knows. It obviously made a lasting impression on me.
Sure, my mother had given me Never Talk to Strangers, but she also taught me to be quiet, polite and respectful, to the point of obsequiousness, to adults. She never taught me that strangers can be young and handsome, that they don't have to look like bad guys (or camels with bony knees.)
Teach your children to be suspicious and aware. Teach them that bad guys don't look like the boogeyman; they might look like the friendly old man two doors down. Teach them to yell and scream, to be defiant and fight back; not to worry about manners and hurt feelings, or being nice and quiet.
A terrible lesson.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Speaking of Survivor...
If Rupert doesn't win this time, I say let's start a campaign to all send him a dollar.
Just one dollar. We get enough people, he could still be a millionaire, he deserves it. Are you with me on this one?!
Just one dollar. We get enough people, he could still be a millionaire, he deserves it. Are you with me on this one?!
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Our buddy Crady made the news yesterday. If you know him, wait, it's for a GOOD thing... Northbound on I-95, he witnessed a car go off the road about two-hundred yards ahead of him. When he arrived, there was a crowd standing there watching the car, upside-down and sinking, in a canal. Crady saved the day. He dove in, smashed the window, pulled out the elderly man and then went back for the man's wife. FHP then arrived and assisted him in pulling the woman from the water.
Wildlife
We have a new friend, a white heron the kids are calling Skipper. He's been hanging around for the past few days, and while we were afraid at first that his unusually friendly behavior might indicate illness, he seems to be fine, and is no doubt hanging around for the big bag of shrimp the girls talked me into buying.
They're almost able to hand feed him. I know, bad for the wildlife, but HE came to us.
This tiny guy was named Squirt. I found him stranded on the sand during a morning walk and brought him home. He had some red, goopy stuff hanging from his belly, and at first it seemed something, a raccoon maybe, had attacked him, but a call to the turtle patrol rep in our area assured us it was unabsorbed egg sack; he had simply hatched a little early. They came down, picked him up and promised to release him in several days when the sack absorbed.
They're almost able to hand feed him. I know, bad for the wildlife, but HE came to us.
This tiny guy was named Squirt. I found him stranded on the sand during a morning walk and brought him home. He had some red, goopy stuff hanging from his belly, and at first it seemed something, a raccoon maybe, had attacked him, but a call to the turtle patrol rep in our area assured us it was unabsorbed egg sack; he had simply hatched a little early. They came down, picked him up and promised to release him in several days when the sack absorbed.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Labels
Most people claim to despise labels. Not me. I agree that in a classroom situation they can be detrimental, when your only choices are good, better, and bad, for example, but otherwise, I think labels can be a very helpful way of pinpointing exactly the kind of person being described.
From various board discussions, I've heard that "homeschooling" carries a distinctly Christian connotation; "classical" has been co-opted by Christian groups, when the two are mutually exclusive; secular use of the trivium does not guarantee a "classical" education either. The marketing value of "classical" is becoming apparent and its misuse by the media, a certainty. What label then best describes our curriculum?
Let me think...
Liberal Arts sounds good, but most people when they ask, wouldn't get it. College Prep? Well, I'm not making any promises or claims that is where they're headed after this, so that's not entirely accurate. A Great Books study? Maybe later, we're only studying Pretty Good Books at this time.
I like the idea of classical, but we're only studying Latin, no Greek. Does backtalk count as Socratic dialogue? True classical focuses only on those ancients (well, duh), so modern history shouldn't technically be included. But Greek and Roman learning evolved over the years to include contemporary ideas, no? Neo-classical? Their knowledge of the world was not nearly as broad as ours, but would they have ignored it had they known more? I doubt it. Classical-style, maybe? Getting closer...
Then there's our approach: Eclectic? Eccentric? Semi-unschool? Too complicated...
---------------
Speaking of labels, my thanks to Phil Hendrie for the _____-style qualifier. The master button-pusher riled up a lot of listeners the day he insisted that there were no "African-Americans", or "Cuban-Americans", but only "African-style Americans" and "Cuban-style Americans." I can only take him in small doses, but if you haven't heard him, give him a try. Even with the frequent disclaimer added to protect his liability, he still manages to pull the wool over so many ignorant eyes. One of his funniest, in my opinion, was when Margaret, the socialite, was describing her charitable duty one Thanksgiving, donating complete turkey dinners to the needy, but nervously, because the neighborhoods were the type with carports and chain-link fencing in the front yards. She had to leave the food at the curb and honk, before speeding off.
And here's an instance where labels are important: When there is a serial rapist on the loose in North Miami Beach, and the press will only describe him as having brown hair and brown eyes. Come on! At the risk of offending anybody, the public service announcements only serve to protect the rapist. The fact is, in most cases, there are some distinctly identifiable racial characteristics. Why is everyone so afraid to mention it?
Maybe labels won't be so important in the future: My MIL says everyone will be tea-colored in 50 years anyway...
----------------
And speaking of MIL:
For Christmas she told the girls that their presents were two books each, that they could order themselves on Amazon.com, when they come up to her place. Dad just called and said the books are in!
If I remember correctly, their choices were:
S - Lyra's Oxford and The Only Coloring, Puzzle, Game, Dot-to-Dot Activity Book You'll Ever Need
G - Spring-heeled Jack and The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
L - The Miniature World of Peter Rabbit: 12 Miniature Original Tales and Olivia Counts
From various board discussions, I've heard that "homeschooling" carries a distinctly Christian connotation; "classical" has been co-opted by Christian groups, when the two are mutually exclusive; secular use of the trivium does not guarantee a "classical" education either. The marketing value of "classical" is becoming apparent and its misuse by the media, a certainty. What label then best describes our curriculum?
Let me think...
Liberal Arts sounds good, but most people when they ask, wouldn't get it. College Prep? Well, I'm not making any promises or claims that is where they're headed after this, so that's not entirely accurate. A Great Books study? Maybe later, we're only studying Pretty Good Books at this time.
I like the idea of classical, but we're only studying Latin, no Greek. Does backtalk count as Socratic dialogue? True classical focuses only on those ancients (well, duh), so modern history shouldn't technically be included. But Greek and Roman learning evolved over the years to include contemporary ideas, no? Neo-classical? Their knowledge of the world was not nearly as broad as ours, but would they have ignored it had they known more? I doubt it. Classical-style, maybe? Getting closer...
Then there's our approach: Eclectic? Eccentric? Semi-unschool? Too complicated...
---------------
Speaking of labels, my thanks to Phil Hendrie for the _____-style qualifier. The master button-pusher riled up a lot of listeners the day he insisted that there were no "African-Americans", or "Cuban-Americans", but only "African-style Americans" and "Cuban-style Americans." I can only take him in small doses, but if you haven't heard him, give him a try. Even with the frequent disclaimer added to protect his liability, he still manages to pull the wool over so many ignorant eyes. One of his funniest, in my opinion, was when Margaret, the socialite, was describing her charitable duty one Thanksgiving, donating complete turkey dinners to the needy, but nervously, because the neighborhoods were the type with carports and chain-link fencing in the front yards. She had to leave the food at the curb and honk, before speeding off.
And here's an instance where labels are important: When there is a serial rapist on the loose in North Miami Beach, and the press will only describe him as having brown hair and brown eyes. Come on! At the risk of offending anybody, the public service announcements only serve to protect the rapist. The fact is, in most cases, there are some distinctly identifiable racial characteristics. Why is everyone so afraid to mention it?
Maybe labels won't be so important in the future: My MIL says everyone will be tea-colored in 50 years anyway...
----------------
And speaking of MIL:
For Christmas she told the girls that their presents were two books each, that they could order themselves on Amazon.com, when they come up to her place. Dad just called and said the books are in!
If I remember correctly, their choices were:
S - Lyra's Oxford and The Only Coloring, Puzzle, Game, Dot-to-Dot Activity Book You'll Ever Need
G - Spring-heeled Jack and The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
L - The Miniature World of Peter Rabbit: 12 Miniature Original Tales and Olivia Counts
Monday, February 02, 2004
Kicked out
I got the boot from our local homeschool support group, sort of. They posted a new rule yesterday, intended to spur participation, that if you do not actively attend at least one of the scheduled events in a three month period, you will be deleted from the group mailing list. When we were able, we'd occasionally join the craft class, or visit the park day on alternate weeks, when it was in our neighborhood. This was not enough, I guess, so, I advised them this morning that we are unable to dedicate any more time to the group and will cease to be members.
That's OK. So far their field trips have included two visits to Chuck E. Cheese, one to Krispy Kreme and one to Rainforest Cafe (the latter presumably to learn about the rainforest, the first two locations, who knows.) Call me Howard Hughes, but I hate, and I use that word sparingly, those horrible, kiddy carnival germ factories, and besides, my kids have been to the rainforest. A real one.
I was already planning to use our imminent relocation as an opportunity to leave, lest you think "sour grapes," because the main topics of conversation on the list for the last few months have focused on tattoos (both the children's and parents'), the parents' sex life, what are the best mood enhancing drugs to feed yourself and your children, and at what optimal dosages. Not much homeschooling support there. This gave me the perfect out.
Back to being a support group of one.
That's OK. So far their field trips have included two visits to Chuck E. Cheese, one to Krispy Kreme and one to Rainforest Cafe (the latter presumably to learn about the rainforest, the first two locations, who knows.) Call me Howard Hughes, but I hate, and I use that word sparingly, those horrible, kiddy carnival germ factories, and besides, my kids have been to the rainforest. A real one.
I was already planning to use our imminent relocation as an opportunity to leave, lest you think "sour grapes," because the main topics of conversation on the list for the last few months have focused on tattoos (both the children's and parents'), the parents' sex life, what are the best mood enhancing drugs to feed yourself and your children, and at what optimal dosages. Not much homeschooling support there. This gave me the perfect out.
Back to being a support group of one.
Sunday, February 01, 2004
Super Bowl Sunday
Bah humbug.
We're not a TV sports-watching kind of family. It is always fun to attend sporting events, but purely as an exercise in people watching. It's hard to beat the entertainment value of watching sports fans (just thinking of auto racing fans brings a big smile to my face -- cars, driving around in circles, for HOURS, that always brings out the creme de la creme.) Hmmm, my last big game? 1985 when the Dolphins ruined the Bear's chance at tieing their 1972 undefeated season record, Monday Night Football, the crowd so loud the players couldn't hear the plays being called, THAT was fun.
The only interest today's game holds for us is waiting for the final score, because we have a few bucks in a pool that G's guys have going and because Survivor will finally be on. The halftime entertainment, ick. Marching bands making goofy patterns on the field are way better than whoever, whatever shows up this evening. And the commercials? We usually watch for these, since my brother, a CGI (Computer Generated Image) artist, usually has one he's worked on scheduled to run during the game, but not this year.
How many hours is this thing?
We're not a TV sports-watching kind of family. It is always fun to attend sporting events, but purely as an exercise in people watching. It's hard to beat the entertainment value of watching sports fans (just thinking of auto racing fans brings a big smile to my face -- cars, driving around in circles, for HOURS, that always brings out the creme de la creme.) Hmmm, my last big game? 1985 when the Dolphins ruined the Bear's chance at tieing their 1972 undefeated season record, Monday Night Football, the crowd so loud the players couldn't hear the plays being called, THAT was fun.
The only interest today's game holds for us is waiting for the final score, because we have a few bucks in a pool that G's guys have going and because Survivor will finally be on. The halftime entertainment, ick. Marching bands making goofy patterns on the field are way better than whoever, whatever shows up this evening. And the commercials? We usually watch for these, since my brother, a CGI (Computer Generated Image) artist, usually has one he's worked on scheduled to run during the game, but not this year.
How many hours is this thing?
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