Paper Bridges
just another Jesus freak, homeschooling mom with a blog
Posts tagged ‘things I want to remember’
4H fair: summer 2009
Once again we have conquered the 4H fair and all it’s dust, heat and all-around summery goodness. It was much like last year, except now, we have a personal interest with Susan’s club, Sew, Bake and Bloom. It’s a club for those interested in sewing, baking and gardening. Like, duh, Monica.
There is much to remember here, but I’ve been unmotivated to write. The summer is almost over and yet it feels like it’s finally begun. Too much rain!
A pause button on life would be welcome right now.
Quickly, Fair Thoughts. Because if I don’t jot them down, I know 20 years from now I’ll wonder what it is I can’t remember:
1. We love the food. Funnel cake ($5 each!), ice cream, cotton candy.
2. We love the rides. Merry-go-round and that “fake car” ride for Lucy. She kept running back and forth between the two. Big kids getting into the faster rides now. The fair is small enough to let the three of them go free-range. Niiiice.
3. When it rains the night before, all the straw in the world won’t keep the mud at bay. Wear old shoes or boots next time. Remind myself kids are washable.
4. When it rains the night before, beware parking in the field. Van not too keen on thick mud.
5. When it rains the night before, having Uncle John with us helps tremendously when the van gets stuck. He’s great at preventing further emotional meltdowns. (Don’t mention Susan’s tearfest here; she won’t like it. Write about my own frustration.)
6. A beautiful summer Sunday is no guarantee the fair will be a popular place to be. Where were all the kids? The teens? Moms and Dads and grandparents? The fair grounds not at all well populated. Sad. Will the fair survive or is it a dying tradition?
Goodbye, 4H fair! See you next summer….
Seen and heard: unprompted love
Susan and Edmund the other day, and for no apparent reason that I could detect:
I love you, Edmund!
I love you, Susan!
And a mutual bear hug as if to convince the sibling.
Cool, huh?
Team Brand: we work well together (which is convenient since we’re married)
What began as a lame Saturday, even with me writing a whiny journal entry, turned into a really, really good day. Really! A ton of work accomplished on the back porch and yard, stuff I didn’t think would get done, because of the way the day started. It was a happy Saturday surprise.
Are you like me? I love to see a large section of work accomplished. Dramatic “before” and “after” photos. I’ve noticed I’m totally that way with homeschooling too. I have a stack of papers from when Susan was nine. Why I still have those papers, when we don’t need to document here in New Jersey (thank you, Lord! it makes life easier) is a matter of me keeping memories in a box.
I look at that stack, weigh it in my hands. “Look at what she did.”
Same feeling today. I look at my improved porch, yard, and have that satisfied, happy sigh. “Look at what we did.”
Yes, I’ve learned nothing new regarding finding contentment. Some days are better than others; I’m still looking outward at the physical. But we won’t harp on the negative. Let’s review all Doc and I did today:
- Gutted the back porch of all the junk that was dumped there.
- Swept same back porch of dirt and rabbit poop (we let the bunnies run free there for a day while the hutch was under construction.)
- Moved all good wood scraps into basement for future use (I suspect most of it will be confiscated by A Boy for his own schemings.)
- Moved various other tools and whatnots into basement too (now the basement is more of a disaster, but at least I don’t have to look at it from my house.)
- Removed junk that had accumulated in yard just beyond back porch (antique Singer sewing machine, paint brushes, rollers, toys. Gah. Am I really admitting this on the web?)
All of that plus we took a few iced tea breaks. We work well together, Doc and I. Glad we can do that – I know some couples can’t. There might have been a couple of times when we didn’t and I think those all involved the car and a new GPS system, so that doesn’t count. Married couple + car + new technology = it doesn’t count on my blog.
A day like today – us with a pick-up truck and elbow grease – yeah, we’re good.
So sorry there are no pictures. Will someone please invent solar powered camera batteries? Actually, I’m kind of glad I have no pictures of our trash and evil pile of accumulated junk. It’s one thing to describe all of this in words, but do I really want to share the photo evidence too?
Yeah, I love all this web confessional stuff, so I probably would.
The Age of the Hammer
And so it begins.
Friends – behold, the interesting creature known as The Nine-Year-Old Boy. He runs everywhere. He plays computer games obsessively. This Boy, he who will only be nine once (”Thanks be to God!” says his mother), engages occasionally in behavior we won’t speak write of again. Ahem. The Legendary Peeing on the Grill Incident, for example.
Then there are the days when The Nine-Year-Old Boy gets is right.
Today my version of this boy-man child made his father breakfast in bed, then proceeded to build this quite lovely and extremely functional foot/bike bridge. It’s the Age of the Hammer. Building, creating, pounding wood with nails. No wood scrap is safe from The Boy looking to create a bike ramp. Or tree fort. Whatever captures his imagination.
You did good today, kid.
Tomorrow? You never know with the creature known as the Nine-Year-Old Boy. As the mother of said Nine-Year-Old Boy critter, I’m gonna just go with it, no matter what he choses to create: a mess or a work of art, because that’s what you do when you’re the mother of a mostly domesticated/always entertaining Nine-Year-Old Boy.
Pray for me!
And be jealous.
As of 11:05 am
I will be forty years old.
Can some one please explain to me how the heck this happened?? Because in my head, I’m still not a day over 35 25.
More later; for now I’m doing minimal house chores, taking the kids to the park where I’m going to chat with another home schooling mom while my kids hunt for snakes and crayfish. I’ll read and write and wish some one else would cook me dinner.
Have a great day, readers. I know I will…
