In a Puff

Just a typical after school Playdate with some 

Swingin'

Chillin' (are we actually going to have a brown eyed girl?)

                                                             Chicken seed tossing

                                             Chicken catchin' (fourth try)

Gamin'

Love that Bean came up with this game himself. 

And one of our end of evening rituals.

When Handy Man and I were in Ohio a million years ago in June, we went into a Victorian shop in a big, old, beautiful Victorian home.  It smelled so lovely.  The source of the smell was a french milled powder accompanied by  these luscious powder puffs.  I know smells are great at prompting memories.  Anytime I smell an old building where coal heat has been used, it instantly takes me back to  my Papaw's.  Due to it being French, it is now the special Paris Powder.  Bean and Bugg spend the night after Playdate and our last activity before heading to bed is being swirled with the puff and a prayer/blessing/wish

Powder powder everywhere

Give those frightening dreams a scare

Send them oh so far from here

invite one’s sweet and full of cheer

To wrap me up and round me creep

In peaceful, gentle sleep so deep

And in such rest i’m sure to find

God is watching all the time.

Of course, my hope is that powder,  or that soft, sweet smell, will remind them of all our good times.

Goodnight!

Corn Chucking and Creeking

Wow, it must already be Saturday again.  A dear friend is considering the position of instructional assistant, and not a moment too soon.  I feet like I've been drowning since the week before school started.  I will so love having some help.
I have about ten kids who are very high in math. Honestly, they've already mastered most of fifth grade standards in math. I have a handful that are where you would expect them to be and an equal size handful that have not yet mastered fourth grade math.  Keeping them all on track and moving on is exhausting.
 Last night, I came home, took a nap, got up and heated up leftovers, and very soon went back to read the evening away.
Up early this morning to get a package off to the Captain, and then plan meals, wash clothes, grocery, and all the chores the weekend brings.
First though, a bit of reflection on fun.
While the boys were off on an adventure somewhere around the place, the girls, Grandfather and I pulled the very last of the summer corn, and "chucked" it for supper.  Still delicious-sad it is gone.




Giddy-up wanted to travel through the troll tunnel to the creek. He is very into rock throwing.

 Bean found a wood worm that we all needed to take a closer look at.

 I love this picture with the sun shining through the troll tunnel.

 You know that bigger rocks, are, well, bigger, therefore better somehow.

 It is mosquito fighting time. They've been worse than usual all year, but late August is always thick with them and now we've learned West Nile has reached our area. Bah-humbug.  Baby Boy, and Giddy-up are mosquito magnets I fear.
A fun Playdate in spite of the fog of bug repellant.

Cherished Chubbiness

Just curious, is there anyone besides me who is weary of dealing with the frustrations of insane folk who have nothing better to do than to create messes for me.  I'm talking here about people who hack or destroy other's computer information, causing me to have to decipher some crammed together, whack-a-mo text in order to leave a reply TO MY OWN MESSAGES, ON MY OWN BLOG!!!!!! I have in the past, literally given up on trying to leave a message on someone's blog because I could never figure out what I was supposed to re-type.
Shall we move on to something more pleasant?
Chubbiness, ah yes, now there is a smile. Sticky, grape juice chubbiness.
I was at Rae's this week, slicing grapes for Giddy-up as fast as I could go, when he spotted my camera and indicated that he wanted to see it. I showed it to him and proceeded to snap a few pictures.  This  picture is too close and blurry, but still captures the idea, though I'm sad it doesn't fully portray the moment, as you can't see the enthusiasim, or hear the smack of the clap, when Rae says, "Time to pray."

Next a big cheesy grin.
So I think I'm done, but alas, the sign for "more,"
coupled with my inability to tell my gramerlings "No," so I continued to snap away and he continued to sign "more."  I love, love, love this stage. I will say again, no one can uncheered by this little sprite.
So, off on another tangent, hold tight.  This is long, because I still don't have an instructional assistant, and may not surface again until, well, who knows when, so I have to get it all down while I'm here.
Did ever I tell you that I have an intense dislike for children's gaming systems?  I believe, whole heartedly, that their one and only attribute is stealing children's minds and attention, oh, and making someone a lot of money. Wait, that's two, but I digress.  I have applauded my children for not having such items for the gramerlings.
So, they grow up running, playing, creeking, drawing, painting, climbing and other such bizarre activities.  But one day,  it becomes a social issue. I thought I could have cried when Bean told me that there is no one to talk to on the bus, because as soon as the kids get on the bus, they get out their games.  I so know that feeling, like when your away somewhere with friends, and each person is in their own world texting, or checking up on their five hundred and sixty two Facebook friends, ignoring the friend sitting beside them. It's weird, uncomfortable.
Bean turned eight a few weeks ago and received a DS gaming system.  Yee, haw! I get it. I don't like it, but I get it.
I pick them up on Thursdays and they spend the night.  There it was, that little black box, in all its glory.  Also, my friend Gardener E., under another crazy clean and purge spell, left a pair of stilts on my porch, used by her own boys, who are my age. The little black box was forgotten, as Bean was determined to master those stilts and I smiled big!

 The girlies, still delighted by collecting rocks.

 Time for supper. Straight from the stalk to the boiling water yields the sweetest, tenderest, most delicious corn.  But first you have to collect it.  I see a little garden fairy peeking around.

 Oh, there's another one.

 Yummy, warm, sweet and juicy tomatoes.

 And another castoff enjoyed by Bean.  He said, "Take a picture of my dog and send it to her (Gardener E.) and see if she can come over sometime and see me walk on the stilts."  That I will do.

Lastly, our morning conversation before heading to school was hysterical.  Bean was asking about our move to a balanced calendar (where fall, winter and spring breaks are longer and summer is shorter) and I was trying to explain the reason behind it.  I failed completely at presenting a winning argument. He asked how long summer would be and when I told him six or seven weeks, he shook his head in disgust and loudly proclaimed, "That is just ridiculous, I'm going to have to call someone about this!"

 He just might.

Decisions, Decisions

Ah, this blog business is an interesting one.  No one's life is always peachy, and I sort of feel a responsibility to be real when real is knocking at my door, but I am personally worn out of being weepy and I imagine others are pretty worn out with me too.  I've had some things to say of late, but seriously thought that maybe I was just too sad to blog anymore.  I really started this to keep my kin up on Kaye and my chicken adventures.  Well, Kaye is gone and I don't know how much longer I'll have anything to say about the chickens either.  Then my sister tells me of an old friend who enjoys keeping up with our family through the blog, so here I am with one more sad story.My sweet Arwen was terrified of storms.  We had a little pop-up storm on Thursday just a very few minutes before Handy Man pulled in the drive. My panic stricken pooch tried to jump the fence, but didn't make it and consequently, didn't make it.  Ahh, law, more tears.
 With no protector for the chickens, who knows?

On the other hand, no one could be uncheered by this little dumpling.  Looks like he's going love Legos like his Papa.

 School is well underway and we've been as busy as usual.  We wandered into the dry creek bed for a bit of sketching and to see if life could be found in a dry creek.

 After experimenting with bubbles of plain soap and bubbles with an addition of corn syrup, we met our reading buddies and had a big, bubble blowing time.

 With Captain off across the deep blue sea, and my students having already met him and tried on his 70 pounds of gear and writing to his team, I decided to just do a geography/cultural project titled "Indiana to Afghanistan" with my kidlets.  The girls are wearing head wraps and you can see them here in our faux marketplace.  A fun coincidence, I got a postcard from Captain this week showing women in full coverage with just a net like piece to see through.  My girls are always happy to take theirs off at the end of our lesson.

A Birthday Remembrance

Today is Kaye's birthday.  Sixty-four years ago on this day, my Mama delivered a wee babe, two months early, and thought by the doctors till that day,  to be a tumor.  My granny kept her going with round the clock feedings with an eye-dropper.  You would never know from these pictures, I'm guessing about ten months later, of her difficult start. Is she not the most adorable baby.  And there is my SuZQ, just eleven months older.

This picture was made in 2008, at Rae-rae's bridal shower.

And this one at Rae's wedding.  The earliest I'd ever known Kaye and Pete to arrive at an event.  A good one of Christmas I've posted before, and these two are the last pictures I have of her before the events that changed those sparkling eyes and beautiful smile.  She made her signature cheese balls for the wedding reception. 

The past couple of weeks I've sort of relived, in a ticker tape of mental snapshots, her last 3 and one half years.  Not pretty.

I'm posting these pictures here, so they are handy.  I intend to look at them until they imprint over the Rocky Horror Picture show of my mind.

But for today, I still grieve her, will always miss her and will celebrate, in her memory, with some of her very favorite garden flavors of salsa, fried corn, pesto and Chocolate-Mocha Cake, with Carmel Pecan Filling.

Happy Birthday to My Big Sister, Second Mom, Friend

And additionally,  Ceece and I will raise a toast to my committed, hard working boy, who far, far from here is having his own celebration and  after today, will no longer be referred to as 1st Lt., but Captain.

Congratulations Captain K. Adam Paris

Oh, such sweet memories.

Back to work today.