Pemmican to Beaver Hats

Did anyone else watch James Burke's "Connections" series?

Unschooling is a strange thing, it means that we are always in school and always "on vacation" simultaneously. So now, while we are actually on vacation, it feels like we're prepping for an appearance on Jeopardy...starting with Pemmican. A mini-lecture brought on by mommy validation of Philip's beef jerky breakfast decision. Which led to an exploration of the north american fur trade (http://eh.net/encyclopedia/article/carlos.lewis.furtrade )...the concept of bartering, a discussion of property rights, small Eddie Izzard reference ("do you have a flag?"), how great a deal the Louisiana Purchase was, and ultimately a long discussion about beaver hats in the pre-umbrella, pre-plastic era.

Is this how everyone spends their mornings? Sometimes it's hard to gauge what actually constitutes "normal" breakfast conversation.

Drakes vs. Roosters

Birds...check
Beautiful...check
Yummy...check
Special abilities...swimming vs. kicking the crap out of everything else in the barnyard (hmmmm)
The kicker...roosters require a 1:12 mating ratio or their hens start losing their back feathers but ducks are good with a 1:1 ratio (although apparently not averse to 1:5)

I dig ducks :P

Grown-Up Coloring Books

This week I got to re-visit the little kid stage of family life. Lessons learned: (1)If you never actually say "No" 4-5 year olds are too literal to understand the no they get with the word "later" (2) parenting with all of the related schedules, life lessons, and need to avoid danger and stomach aches is much harder than grand-parenting where the aforementioned "no" is completely optional (3) coloring rocks! If I was standing in an airport store contemplating the selection of gossip mags and puzzle collections and I saw a coloring book (not geared for the under 5 set) with an attached pack of markers...I would be all over that, hunched over the tray table with my little overhead light coloring my way across the Atlantic! Anyway, hanging out with the kids watching TV, I decided to sketch out a sample page of what I would look for...feedback welcome :)

Clearly the problems I have updating my blog are related to the incredibly poor lighting conditions I exist under. I find myself both under & overwhelmed by this social-networking thing, the blog at least should be less pressure and yet somehow is another chore added to my list. If I work under the assumption that no one will read this, updates will (ok...might) be more frequent.

Apparently I find shrimp and steak fajitas very exciting. I mean, EXCITING! Or I just need to remember that Chris only takes one picture of anything and good or bad or truly horrendous never creates the possibility of a second picture...so I better be well-lit, one-shot perfect everytime. No pressure.

Spa Day for Mom

Around 6 pm Philip asked me if I had ever been to an all-day spa. He wanted to know what one cost and I told him about $100 (I could be wrong) but suggested that he could get a mani-pedi for about $40. Ends up our whole bizarre conversation was a prelude to one of the those mother-son moments when you realize that the eight hours spent at the amusement park slowly turning into a giant freckle while paying out the nose for greasy amusement park food made your only boy want to treat you to a spa day for being the best mom in the world. Not a terrible end to a day that started with me chopping off locks of his hair (by request) so that the swim goggles would be easier to put on. I think that Philip is my gift from the Universe for learning patience.

The Virginia Renaissance Faire

Outings that include corsets, ax throwing and a purse full of chain mail bits tend to work well for us. In spite of some initial complaints (all Philip) about the heat, the sun, the "why do we have to do this hot boring thing?" moments... we still managed to enjoy ourselves. Next year we're aiming for Pirate weekend...argghh.

Reine treated herself to a braid called the huntress.



Philip got to throw an ax, something I never allow him to do at home, much to his chagrin.

Emile and I tried on corsets. Note what seems to be missing from the pictures Emile took of me (in fact there was no picture available with my head), what do you suppose that means?



While I was getting cinched in, I had a terrible moment of claustrophobia. I think I was imagining the impossibility of a quick exit if I suddenly felt incapable of breathing. Sips of water and actual breathing helped. It's surprisingly comfortable even if a deep breath isn't possible. I suppose the choice is perfect posture and a tiny waist over full lung capacity.

Establishing a transatlantic World Cup pool has elevated procrastination to a whole new level in this household. At least for the grownups. I accomplish almost nothing from 7 AM to 4 PM daily. In theory this will pass as we move out of the group round because I have tests to take and papers to write and a kid summer schedule of pools and amusement parks that beckons.