School.

1 day completed, 179 to go.  So far so good.

And we finally got our photos onto the PC, made a flicker account, and soon, very soon, will enter Dorian & Bearing’s contest.  There’s sort of a lot of photos, because two girls wanted to enter.  And I had to let them, since I needed to borrow a camera from one of them.  And then there’s a lot of photos, because, well, you wanted a photo of the cat, right?  And three stuffed hippos?

Ah, look, I see the 100% sign down on my tool bar.  Getting back to work now.  I’ll make a post of my version of the homeschool tour.  Ev put descriptions on her photos (some of which are mine, ahem, thief), and LEL’s are un-captions because of this:

Me: “What do you want me to write next to that photo”.

LEL: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Well, why did you take that photo?”

LEL: “So I could be in the contest and win a prize.”

 

White Fang Update

I’ve learned a useful writing tip:  If you have a really whiny character, go ahead and let the wolves eat that one.  Your readers will thank you.

Except now I’m kinda rooting for the wolves.

***

PS: Our dog is doing GREAT.  Completely better.  Hurray hurray hurray.  We seriously thought we were going to have a dead dog by the end of the week.  And now she’s fine.  Perfectly normal happy dog.  Yay veterinarians.  Yipee yay yay.

Simmering.

Thank you to Bearing for linking to this free pdf booklet by Fr. Longenecker on St. Benedict for Busy Parents.  I have been so desperate for something to read . . . desperate enough to crack the pages of White Fang, which does not interest me in the least, but it’s on my shelves for certain schoolchildren, and what else was I going to read?  Now I’ve got 25 pages of reprieve from that monster.

–> The library is right out, because I absolutely cannot keep track of one more thing right now, and the library means about twenty more things, all hidden under mattresses and stuck behind dressers by the time the third renewal comes around.  Sometimes, being a person who is simply not interested in television is maybe not all it’s cracked up to be.  Even if actually Eric Sammons is right.  (He is.)

****

In other news, if you had were one of the people (contacted privately) praying for the best dog in the world in her recent illness, she is home and looking  a little better.  Looks like a case of thyroid gone AWOL, guess that happens to middle-aged ladies of many species.  Venison and rice and a big bone boiling on the stove for her now, the rest of us I think are having frozen pizza.

Out in the real world . . .

I’m submerged.  (All good, more or less.)

Also very grateful for the contributions thus far in the “what to do with the accused” discussion below.  Please join in if you have not already, though I’m going to be in and out over the next week or so, so if you are brand new to posting here, just wait patiently until I sneak online and get your comment approved.

If you want something useful to read, check out Christian LeBlanc’s post on how Bible translations are used to support the theology of the translators.  Required reading for, mmn, everyone.

If you’re a shameless Tollefsen fan, gee I’m only 10 days late in pointing out Chris T’s latest on Public Discourse.  It’s him explaining to other philosophers about why one ought to continue to care for severely severely disabled persons.  [No opinion of my own on the merits of the arguments presented.  I tend to stick to whatever the catechism says.  So of course I come to the same conclusion, though more directly if less profoundly.]

And look: John Hathaway’s having a CD sale.

Lotta other good stuff happening on the internet, I’m sure.  Feel free to post links in the combox, because wow I don’t think I’m going to have time to write any of the 10,000 things I wish I had time to write right now.  Have a great week.

Home again.

Momcation successful.  More news later.  If your e-mail to me is sitting all sad and lonely in my inbox, I promise to dust it off and respond soon.  Ish.

Two notes for now:

1.  Wow, it is really neat to have a place that is home.  To be able to go off on vacation someplace superior in weather, scenery, traffic-planning — generally better in every way –, and then come home to a hot, muggy, concrete-laden, weed-infested corner of suburban sprawl and just grin with happiness at being HOME.  And have no desire to live anywhere else.

I like that a lot.

2. Please pray for John Hathaway and his family.  I want very much to keep him in exile here in this fallen world a little longer (a lot longer), but he threatens once again to make his escape. Please pray.

my life.

Prelude: How to get the people to eat lunch.

It’s one o’clock.  The little people have lost momentum and scattered to various activities that are neither school nor chores.  They seem unaware of the checklist.

“Okay, everyone, it’s one o’clock.  Let’s do a clean up.”

“But I haven’t had lunch yet!”

Three more people surface, suddenly starving.

“Okay.  Eat lunch and then we’re cleaning.”

***

Part 2: Purgatory.

I’m making my own lunch. (Well, I had breakfast at 11.  Did I say I was organized?  No I did not.)  Female child squeals “Ow!” in the eating area.  I look over to see what Mr. Usually Guilty is doing this time.

He’s just standing there.  And there is no female child in sight.

I look under the table.  Sure enough, eldest daughter is hidden among the chairs.  Other two girls are down the hall.  “What are you doing under there?” I ask.  Still trying to find out what her brother has done this time.

“We’re hiding from the bomb!”

Ah.  The bomb.  That would be the microwave.  Every time it beeps, it’s a bomb going off.  You have to run down the hall to be safe.  Don’t ask me how this one started.  I have no idea.

Microwave beeps.

“Ahh!  The bomb!  You’re dead mom!  You and Mr. Boy are dead!”

Death looks eerily like my kitchen.  Well, the boy is right here with me. “I’m afraid we’ve died and gone to Purgatory.”

***

Things homeschoolers do. So the Kolbe lady calls me today, because she’s packing up the books I ordered, and everything is single copies except for two copies of the student workbook for Famous Men of Rome.

“Well, both kids are going to do Roman history next year, so I got them both a workbook.”

“Okay.  Well I saw you also got the Greek history . . .”

“Umm.  That was just because my history-nut child wanted to look at it for fun.”

A little more back-and-forth, confirming order is correct.  Friendly lady tells me books will be shipping out this afternoon, should arrive late next week.

I have to tell you: It felt very weird yesterday, buying textbooks.  For one, they’re expensive!  I’m not used to having to by that exact book.  I usually just get the one that someone’s selling real cheap and it looks pretty good.  And then: A whole year (or more) of school in just one book? You mean I won’t have to go to the library? That’s the point, of course.

New experience for me.  I guess it’s the way people feel about sending their child to kindergarten.You know it’s the right thing for right now, and you hope it will work out, and it’s exciting, but it’s . . .  so much.

***

Children are dispersing again.  They seem to have forgotten that whole “clean-up” thing we talked about forty-five minutes ago.  Better strap on my dictator powers and see what we can do.

How I came to love Thursday.

My internal dialog today:

Jennifer: I’m hungry.

Jennifer: You are supposed to be hungry.

Jennifer (wincing): Oh, that’s right.

 

 

 

Craft Idea: Painting Fans

I don’t do crafts.  But sometimes, yeah, I do crafts.  This was our activity for the 9 y.o.’s birthday party, but it would lend itself to a VBS project.  So I share.

Who were the artists? 18 Girls at the party, ages 3-13.  Two of the girls (ages 4 & 6) played on the back porch the whole time, the others painted.  All 16 painters, including a few very energetic ones, seemed to enjoy the project and stay focused on their work.

What we did: We painted folding fans.  We acquired a box each of these white fabric ones, and these wooden ones.  You find them in the wedding section of the craft store, and these were 18-count boxes.   We used bottles of washable tempera paint, and also offered markers and glitter-glue (already on hand).   For the paint we purchased six-packs of small bottles in metallic and glittery colors, and I think this worked well because no matter how hapless the artist, your paint selection was guaranteed to coordinate.

VBS Themes? This would be a great project if you are studying a saint who lived in a time and place where folding fans were widely used.  One of our guests ran back home and brought a list of Japanese words she had from school, and two painters used that for their design.  –> For any VBS lesson, you could provide a selection of possible design elements that suits your theme for the day.

Paint Control: Each artist received a cheap saucer-sized paper plate for a pallette.  I squirted nickel-sized samples of desired colors on each girls’ plate.  The girls got the message, and when they re-filled their paint, they took just a little at a time.  I issued new plates on request to a couple artists who needed larger or refreshed pallettes.

Brush Protection: Our array of brushes included old toothbrushes, cheapo kids’ water color brushes, good quality kids’ brushes, and really nice adult painting brushes.  I handed out the better kids’ brushes to the girls (one thin, one thick for each to start), but they were free to help themselves to anything on the table.  No brush damage!  I think that fan-painting lends itself to good brush technique because of the small surfaces.

Rinse Water Management: I used short, heavy mugs and glasses for the rinse water, and filled them no more than half-way.  Girls shared cups placed in the center of the table, and I renewed the water on request.  Low center of gravity pays off: no water spilled.

Budget: Ours fans were on sale for well less than $1 a piece, but suggested retail was something like $18.99 for an 18-count box.  So shop around if your budget is tight.  I spent about $10 on paint, and used perhaps a third of it.  You could no doubt do much better on paint prices.  –>  We will use our leftovers on other projects, but for VBS, half-used paint bottles can easily turn into waste.  If you need to strictly control the budget, pick just a few colors, and don’t open a new bottle of a color until you’ve finished the old one.

I can’t remember what the paper plates cost, but they were the super cheap ones, and for 16 painters we went through maybe 20 plates.  I passed out napkins or paper towels on request, used a handful of those.   I already owned the other supplies — brushes, rinse water cups, markers and glitter glue.  Most people just used paint. On the wooden fans, this project could be done exclusively with markers if desired.

The paint needs to dry! I used old shower curtains to cover the carpet initially, and then used them to cover the shelving where the girls put out their fans to dry while we had birthday cake.

Project Time:  I estimate we spent about 30 minutes on this project?  In a classroom setting, you would want to have a second activity on hand for students who finish quickly.   It would also be nice to have a come-back-later option for students who chose a very detailed design and ran out of time.

Caution: Everyone wants an extra fan.  Just say no.

Wake up! Hey, Wake up!

That’s what my then two-year-old used to shout at his baby sister in the next seat when we arrived at our destination.  The parents were not amused.

These two articles might not amuse you, either.  But if you need to be really grumpy, these’ll do it.

–> I’m continuing with the regular-life-requires-my-attention-theme, so outsourcing my invective to ‘things that showed up in my inbox’.

From Christian LeBlanc, interesting link to an essay on contraception and the fall of the west.

The West lasted from AD 732, when Charles Martel defeated the Muslims at Tours, until 1960, where it fell without a battle. In 1960, the birth control pill became widely available. Many think of it as heaven, sexual nirvana, the route to self-expression, wish fulfillment, and liberation for millions of women. I think of it as Auschwitz in a bottle. It was and is genocide, as, using it, the women of my generation happily traded off 1,200 years of unparalleled growth, wealth, security, stability, scientific and ethical progress for a second BMW in the garage.

I’m not persuaded of author’s provocative conclusion (“Islam is the only way”), but the irony is there.  In the 19th century the French quit reproducing — yes, before effective contraception became widely available — and by the late 20th were wringing their hands over the cultural impact of all the muslims they’d imported to do the labor of the children they’d never had.  Germany has followed suit, and the US isn’t far behind.

(Though, luckily for our culture, we are importing truckloads of macho catholics with their awesome mariachi masses.  Maybe God does love us more?  Kidding.  Really.  The French have Brie — if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.  But yes, I do like a rousing Spanish mass now and again.  Perks up the excessively-somber soul.   And as much as I am moved by the beauty and devotion of faithful muslims at worship, no, I can’t slip down to the corner mosque for a mini-revival.)

Anyhow, key point of link for me is this:  You can’t refuse to bear children, then get all shocked and horrified at the presence of the people you imported to do the work of the offspring you never had.  You want someone t0 mow your lawn and do your dishes?  Either rear yourself a pair of middle-schoolers, or hire someone else’s.

[Teenagers everywhere are now saying aha!  You really did raise me to be a slave! The mother points out that she does a thing or two for her own children that she doesn’t do for the random low-wage stranger.  Indeed, here may lie a bit of the problem: rather than a steady flow of youngsters who do the grunt work for a decade and then move on to greater work, we attempt to create a society divided between perpetual overlords and perpetual economic-teenagers.  And then are shocked, just shocked, when the daring, hard-working, self-sacrificing immigrants turn out to be just like our own children — ready to move up in the world after a spell.]

****

Your other link is this article from the HSLDA, from Swedish parents who moved to Finland in order to homeschool.  I will use this as my cue to get off the internet educate a few fresh faces of my own.

****

PS, castle news: We got a new roof.  Looks a lot like the old one, only much, much younger.