Letters to Sailors

I had the kids dictate their letters to me, then I wrote them out and they copied them with their best penmanship. I love what Jake wrote here.

I thought this was a pretty good likeness of Jake, don't you? See the circles around his eyes due to allergies? The messy hair due to homeschooling? The sword and the shield he uses to defeat laundry monsters? (I'll have to tell you about laundry monsters later.)

Josie's handwriting was beautiful. At the bottom she drew some whales.

This is such a great way to teach my kids letter writing, improve their penmanship, teach them compassion, and maybe give a soldier or sailor a little laugh. If you want to do this with your kids, go to www.anysoldier.com and pick somebody from the list. Put a stamp on your letter just like you would if you were sending domestic mail.

I Love Scott Adams.

Hubby and I were talking about how nice it would be to invent a Shrinkerator. It would take all the big things that get in your way and make them nice and small. Like when you moved to a new house, you could just shrink all your stuff and carry it over. Storage would be such a snap. I reminded Dear Husband that any time a convenience item is invented that we just can't live without, it will become regulated and taxed. He said "No, because we could just Shrinkerate Congress and put them in the Cuisenart. Rurrrr! Rurrr! Rurrr!"

Then I read todays Dilbertblog. It would be much more fun to keep Congress actual size, that way it would be easier to get that field of rakes scene in HD.

This Would Scare Me.

Family set upon by angry bicyclists in San Francisco.


The other side of the story.

Here's some video of one of these protests.

Do these people want to change minds, or just piss everybody off?

Just watch it all if you have the patience. There's a very sensible motorist towards the end who gets treated like crap. They are driving against traffic in several places, and creating mayhem in general. I doubt the cause is to promote eco-friendly transportation. I'm actually pretty impressed with the patience level of motorists in San Francisco. Nobody made target practice out of these guys.

To Fritz:

I agree that everyone should chill out.

What I saw on that video wasn't chilling out. There were people stopping traffic, driving the wrong way, daring motorists to hit them by standing in front of their bumpers and blocking their way, throwing beer bottles in their car windows. I get the sense this this is not how you personally behave, but I think many of these people in Critical Mass go too far and are out there on bicycles joyfully inciting frustration, fear, and rage on innocent people who are simply trying to get from point A to point B without hurting themselves or anybody else.

I would certainly be inclined to have a reasoned debate on the issue of cyclists and motorists being able to abide by the laws and safely share the road. I have an immediate family member who once was an avid cyclist and is now an amputee, because of a senseless accident with a truck full of idiots.

But the way to fight idiocy is not with more idiocy.

What's Up With the Cost Thing?

I don't know why these health studies always tell us how much of a cost a particular ailment is to the greater society. In this case the study is about autism. If we catch it early we can create a whole bunch of new expensive programs and special schools and how much is that going to cost? I'm truly searching for a reason why parents of autistic children need to feel that responsibility for their child being such a burden on society's wallet, they have much more immediate and personal needs to attend to.

Can I Just Say Something?!

I'm just so freaking tired of my kids talking talking talking talking when I'm trying to tell them to do something, I could just put duct tape over their non-stop lip-flapping mouths! Or put superglue on their precious little lips and just smash. them. together.

Or I could do what Dharma doeswhen she gets really desperate and get out the broom and spin it around me in a circle and say "Out! Out! Out! OF MY SPACE!" Take that barking dog with you too! AND Get A JOB! But they wouldn't hear me because they keep talking talking talking.

Now, if you tell them to be quiet (with extreme prejudice) they start to cry. Then it's just crying crying crying. You can only stand the spray of your own spittle so much as you shush them for the fourty-seventh time in three minutes. Oh and they never hear you when they're crying.

Oh goodness! Now the dog is barking barking barking. I need a drink.

Once I get past the aluminum wonderbra, and the makeup, I so hear what this lady is saying. She must be a mother. God help her.



I'm just venting here. No actual children or animals were harmed in the making of this post, or even shushed, believe it or not.

On a good note, my niece just informed us that she is ready to babysit now. She may have a down payment on a home of her own by the years' end.

Our First Roller Derby

Last night we went to our first roller derby bout. I took pictures but they didn't really come out all that well. So I just posted this one from Wikipedia, because it's super cool. Dad couldn't come because he and his fellow keyboard mercenaries were saving America from the ravages of poorly trained web developers.

Well he missed out, because his favorite things are heavily made up death chicks in fishnet hose. He prefers them accessorized with automatic weaponry, but I don't think he would have been too let down. These girls may have to get permits to carry around their own hips and shoulders if a democrat gets wind of their lethal nature. The EMT had to come out to the center of the rink at one point. A few times the children had an opportunity to study the effects of speed, rotation, inertia, and deflection, and what a nasty run a girl can get in her stocking when she goes careening into a crowd on a waxed floor at 50mph. I also pointed out to them how people in crowds naturally revert into a sort of fetal position when this happens. My kids were on the other side of the wall, because I don't believe they use that instinct enough.

They understood only the basic rules, because I taught them while we were in the car all the things I had learned on Wikipedia 15 minutes before we left.

We were proud to have our own jammer friend to cheer for. She was fast too. Like butta. Josie told our jammer at the end of the bout that she won it for her team. It looked that way to me too. Josie says she'd like to be in roller derby when she grows up. I had to remind her that she couldn't issue death threats to people when they pushed her from behind. She has to work on that, you know.

Unfortunately for Dad, there was a burlesque show during the break. Unfortunately for me I had no help sheilding their innocent little eyes from buxom women ripping each other's clothes off. I told him to cover his eyes. This is his half-hearted attempt. Nothing was really exposed, and the kids had their backs turned. I hear the roller derby will be getting more family friendly.

I thought in the car about how fun it would be to be a roller derby girl. I could do it if I wasn't scared of pain, could skate really fast, had no problems showing my black panties to strangers, didn't cry when I got a run in my stocking, and was any good at sports. Yep. Then I could do it.

Found Nancy Sinatra's Website

Here's one of my favorites.

The Kitchen's Done!

Here's a "before" shot. It was really not such a bad kitchen, but me and white have a big problem with each other. Mainly, white likes to be clean. I also can't stand melamine because it delaminates when something steamy sits beneath it, and if water gets on the toe kicks they warp and buckle. That's what was going on here.

Another thing is that our house is loaded with pretty woods: hardwood floors and cherry window surrounds. A white kitchen like this seemed like an afterthought. So since we're going to live in this house until we die of old age, we figured we would fix it the way we like it.

Here it is!

Whew. We won't be doing that again.

New Picture

Since my daughter told me I looked like a rock star in this picture, I decided to add it to my profile.

Dear Husband,

I guess you can see the laundry is still on the pool table, but I have a very good reason today that has nothing to do with reading blogs, emails and magazines. It has nothing to do with worrying over my kids' education either.

I got up this morning and fed the kids and got Jake to do a page of math. After that, I went out and cleaned the dog poop out of the back yard.

The grass was very high so I mowed it first on the highest setting, then I mowed again with a lower setting. I got out the leaf blower and blew all the grass and debris off the driveway, sideporch, and basketball porch.

Then I moved the dishwasher over to the corner of the side porch because we are only closet Tennesseans, and I'm too damn lazy to put it on the front porch anyway. I gathered all of the sticks and put them in the fire pit, and took the grill cover round to the trash.

Did you know how mildewy the swingset is? Well, I put tilex all over it and scrubbed it real good, just in case anybody ever decides they want to use it. Then I cleaned the floor of the screened in porch with the push broom and the hose.

Then it was noon, so I knew the kids needed to eat. We went to McDonald's, then we went to the post office to pick up boxes to send our soldier stuff. Oh, I forgot, before that we went to the comic book store and let the owner pick out a stack of comics that he thought the soldiers would like. After the post office, we did some grocery shopping.

When we got home, and after I put the groceries away, I moved some of the dishes that were crowding our downstairs bar up to the kitchen since we will have a sink up there tonight. Yay! I also picked the living room up.

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you why our room is so messy and the pool table is still covered with clothes, and ask you what you wanted for dinner. Oh, and I'm afraid I won't be performing the dance of the seven veils tonight. I hope you understand.

Love,
Your Sweetie

P.S. The air in my left side back tire is low.

Carnival of Homeschooling

The Carnival's up.

I don't know how many of my homeschooling homies read this, but it's weekly. It's not just homeschoolers talking about why they're homeschoolers, which I like.

Rest in Peace Petey

Rats are greatly under-appreciated as pets, but our family really loved this little guy. I think he loved us too. Yesterday we were holding him and feeding him from a spoon because he was too weak to get up on his hind legs and eat with his own "hands". After he was done eating, he washed his face, kind of laying on his side as we pet him. Then he groomed my hands too, just to make sure I was clean.

At a potluck last night, a lady was cutting flowers in the kitchen to be put in the church sanctuary. She gave me a clipping from her forsythia to take home. As we pulled in, we picked a spot to plant it on the side of the house. This morning, we buried our little friend in that spot, and planted the forsythia there too.

Josie Tickling Petey the Rat

How Do Kids Like This Go to School?

Ate breakfast. Did a math page. Then read them the fable "Fox's Snack".

Jake wanted to act it out. Josie didn't. I sent Jake upstairs to get a bag for a prop. Then Josie decided she wanted to play. We used an afghan for the bag.

First Jake was the fox, I was the lady of the house, and Josie was all the other characters. The dog acted the part of the dog in the story. You should have seen her all wrapped up in the afghan, struggling to get out and "eat" the "fox". Next we played it so that Jake got to be all of the other characters in the story.

After that, Josie wanted to write Part Two of the story. So she paced all around the room while I wrote what she dictated. She added a cat to the story. Four pages later, I asked if she wanted to draw a picture for part 2. She said she didn't. So I did. At that point she thought drawing a picture was a grand idea, and drew two, embellishing the story a bit while she doodled. She went upstairs to take a shower, and Jake asked if he could write Part Three. He dictated three pages to me and then he illustrated his story.

Whew. This was about 3 hours of narrating, writing, reading, drawing, acting, reciting, and dictation, with a little math thrown in.

A school teacher would have to get past the fact that my daughter says "no" to something. Just begin doing it anyway, and she'll join in. A teacher would have to accept that my kids dislike writing at this time. No way I would ever expect her to sit down and take dictation. A teacher would have to let my kid put another kid in a bag and attack them in order to act out a story! Heaven forbid! Running in the classroom? No way. Would I want them to do any of these things in a real classroom situation? Never.

So, did they far exceed their former public school's and my own expectations of them today? Yep. Am I proud of them and hopeful? Yes indeedy.

So Far, Today Rocks.

It's 12:23.

The kids are dressed.

Their rooms are cleaned.

The rat cage is clean.

The banana orange smoothie recipe has been made.

Breakfast was eaten.

The "Tower of Babel" was told.

Story questions were answered.

Drawings were made (did you know the tower had window boxes with flowers? Me neither.)

Summaries were written in cursive by both children. Jake wrote an especially long paragraph.

Josie ran upstairs. "What are you doing, Josie?".... "I had to finish cleaning my room!"

No whining, fighting, or complaining.

KNOCK. ON. WOOD.

Josie's Evangelism

"Mama, did you hear about the fish that plays soccer?!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes! There really is a Koi fish that plays soccer!"

"That can't be true."

"Yes, Mama." (She opens her Ask magazine.) "Let me read about him to you so that you can believe!"

Desperado

Listen.


Here's the CD.

Think You're Overworked?

I was looking up pictures of Burros for my kids. There was one in the storybook we were reading and they weren't sure what they looked like. We came across this picture, and they wanted me to blog it. Poor thing.

Kitchen Update

It's been 10 weeks since the cabinets came. They spent five weeks as strange furniture in my living room. They've been halfway installed in my kitchen for another five weeks while we wait for countertops. The countertops have arrived at the installers. They are being inspected. Monday they will call to set up an installation date.

I don't know if I will jump for joy when my kitchen is finished. I think I will just be glad it's finally over.

Of course I will invite my friends over for cocktails (or tea) and hor d'ouvres when I'm better acquainted with my new kitchen, and relearn how to cook.

I'll post photos soon of the whole process.

That Video Down There and Some More Ramblings About Gender My Husband is Sick Of

That video down there is by a band called Mika. I heard them on the local radio station and thought it was Queen. This got me thinking about Freddie Mercury and his quite palatable gayness. Except for the short-shorts. But that's just bad taste for any man, you can almost give him the gay pass for it. I would be more troubled by a straight man in short shorts than I would be around a gay man in short shorts. Could you imagine some guy in aerobics wear hitting on you at a bar? I can feel the Killian's Irish Red coming out my nose just thinking about it. Otherwise Freddie Mercury's gayness was just part of the entertainment, and he pulled it off in a fairly masculine way compared to some.

Strangely enough I will admit that Tim Curry was oddly alluring in Rocky Horror Picture Show. I wouldn't say he was palatable because the character was a bit disconcerting as well. Sex itself was a bit troubling to the teenage me who went to the movie with my sister. (Add to that the whole Rocky Horror Virgin thing, made me wish I had a fake ID, and some clue about how to mix something that would knock me out.) Anyway, he sure could sing in that corset, with the garter belts, and the fishnets.

Rock is full of androgeny. Robert Palmer, Roger Daltry (bee-ooo-tee-ful), Adam Ant, Duran Duran, Mik Jagger, David Bowie....I could go on and on. Girls fell all over themselves for these lovely guys with puffy shirts and ribbons in their hair. What is that all about? You know the straight guys did it because the girls loved it. Girls buy records. Girls fueled the whole Rock and Roll industry. As the music got harder sounding, the boys seemed to get softer looking. It's some Rock n' Roll sexual conspiracy I think. Someone in the industry got the whole psychology of attraction figured out. I don't really think women want to emasculate men, but maybe women want to see a little of themselves up there on stage with the testosterone.

None of this offers me any clue as to why I have a problem with female drummers.

P.S. I know I misspelled "Freddie" on that post. But heaven help me, this HTML bullcrap won't let me change anything. Well, so what your image of me as perfection incarnate has been a bit sullied?