I had Jane (the rabbit) out grazing in the back yard, and decided it was time to put her back in her hutch. I put Z down on the floor in the porch where the hutch is located and went out to get Jane.
Finley grabbed Jane, and as we headed back onto the porch, there was Z sitting in the hutch, stealing a carrot from Jane's food bowl.
Why didn't I run inside and grab the camera before easing her back out of the 8 by 8 inch hole she crawled though, I don't know. I'm kicking myself now.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A Southern Gardening Tip
Never, never, never, never, never let your husband till up the burmuda grass then 'just rake it out' for an 'easier' way to prepare more ground for a garden.
I knew it was a bad idea. You see, half of the way burmuda propagates is by runners through the soil, and one teeny bit of runner can produce a new plant. So when Chris decided to 'help' me in the expansion of our garden plot this spring and ended up tilling all that burmuda grass into the soil, my stomach sank, and I was tempted to not speak to him for a week. However, knowing that it would have taken me half the summer to dig up and shake out all the soil from all of that grass, I bit my tongue and prayed that I was wrong and he was right.
Well, it turns out I was right. A few weeks ago, I successfully weeded the old section of the garden fairly easily and even planted some fall crops. Then when I went back a few days ago to tackle the new section and found that the roots and runners of the weed grass were so networked deep into the soil, I threw up my hands in despair and called it quits.
I've decided we are going to till up the new section, smooth it out and let the burmuda take it back as lawn territory. I figure if we put the house on the market, having a weedy garden plot in the back yard would not be a selling point. And next time I want to start a garden plot on virgin soil, we are going to do it my way: slow and steady wins the race in the long run.
I knew it was a bad idea. You see, half of the way burmuda propagates is by runners through the soil, and one teeny bit of runner can produce a new plant. So when Chris decided to 'help' me in the expansion of our garden plot this spring and ended up tilling all that burmuda grass into the soil, my stomach sank, and I was tempted to not speak to him for a week. However, knowing that it would have taken me half the summer to dig up and shake out all the soil from all of that grass, I bit my tongue and prayed that I was wrong and he was right.
Well, it turns out I was right. A few weeks ago, I successfully weeded the old section of the garden fairly easily and even planted some fall crops. Then when I went back a few days ago to tackle the new section and found that the roots and runners of the weed grass were so networked deep into the soil, I threw up my hands in despair and called it quits.
I've decided we are going to till up the new section, smooth it out and let the burmuda take it back as lawn territory. I figure if we put the house on the market, having a weedy garden plot in the back yard would not be a selling point. And next time I want to start a garden plot on virgin soil, we are going to do it my way: slow and steady wins the race in the long run.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Daydreaming
Lately, I've been daydreaming.
The probability of finding the perfect old farm in the country for the price we would want to pay is probably slim to none. More likely is a fairly raw piece of property on which we plop a trailer if it doesn't already have one. And then we build.
So I've been daydreaming about what it is we could build. I've been making a list of all the features our new house would have.
One of the first things on my list is a large greenhouse/sun room on the south side of the house. A room in which I could bask in the warm sun during the winter and where I could leave my house plants in one place all year long.
A one car garage off the kitchen will make carrying groceries in convenient and running through the rain a non-issue.
There will be a wood stove or two.
I'm envisioning built-in bookshelves and curious nooks and crannies.
Next, the master bath will have two sinks so that I won't have to a) peer through Chris's toothpaste splatter or b) clean his toothpaste splatter all the time. (Not that I do now.)
The kids will have built in loft beds. Chris and I would, too, but I'm afraid we wouldn't have the energy to climb up into it after a long day's work in the gardens. At least we can build a frame out of 2x4's so that the bed doesn't move when he turns over at night.
There will be a urinal for Chris and Joe. Hopefully that will limit the amount of drippage needed to be cleaned off the bathroom floors.
A separate building out back will have convenient access to all my gardening supplies, and there will be a second story with large windows for the art studio (if the art room is not in the house) .
I want a tower. One where I can climb up and see the lightning in the sky no matter what direction it is in. I also would like a small shelter on top of a hill in which I could camp dry and snug in the middle of a downpour.
The kids (and I) will have a killer tree house/fort to which a very fast and long zip line will be attached.
The house will have lots of windows that let in lots of light and a sink next to the washing machine.
And I can't forget the porch...
The probability of finding the perfect old farm in the country for the price we would want to pay is probably slim to none. More likely is a fairly raw piece of property on which we plop a trailer if it doesn't already have one. And then we build.
So I've been daydreaming about what it is we could build. I've been making a list of all the features our new house would have.
One of the first things on my list is a large greenhouse/sun room on the south side of the house. A room in which I could bask in the warm sun during the winter and where I could leave my house plants in one place all year long.
A one car garage off the kitchen will make carrying groceries in convenient and running through the rain a non-issue.
There will be a wood stove or two.
I'm envisioning built-in bookshelves and curious nooks and crannies.
Next, the master bath will have two sinks so that I won't have to a) peer through Chris's toothpaste splatter or b) clean his toothpaste splatter all the time. (Not that I do now.)
The kids will have built in loft beds. Chris and I would, too, but I'm afraid we wouldn't have the energy to climb up into it after a long day's work in the gardens. At least we can build a frame out of 2x4's so that the bed doesn't move when he turns over at night.
There will be a urinal for Chris and Joe. Hopefully that will limit the amount of drippage needed to be cleaned off the bathroom floors.
A separate building out back will have convenient access to all my gardening supplies, and there will be a second story with large windows for the art studio (if the art room is not in the house) .
I want a tower. One where I can climb up and see the lightning in the sky no matter what direction it is in. I also would like a small shelter on top of a hill in which I could camp dry and snug in the middle of a downpour.
The kids (and I) will have a killer tree house/fort to which a very fast and long zip line will be attached.
The house will have lots of windows that let in lots of light and a sink next to the washing machine.
And I can't forget the porch...
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Finley Quotes of the Day
"If there was nothing, who made God?"
Then a minute later:
"Dad, I wish the Titans get 89 and 100."
F: What's for supper?
Me: Pasta.
F: Pasta? Yum! But don't forget. Don't put any of that cow in it."
Then a minute later:
"Dad, I wish the Titans get 89 and 100."
F: What's for supper?
Me: Pasta.
F: Pasta? Yum! But don't forget. Don't put any of that cow in it."
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Introducing... Jane the Rabbit
Finley made me promise when we were harvesting carrots that I would save hers for the rabbit.We didn't have a rabbit, nor was I thinking about getting one.
But the Baggetts had a rabbit, so I told her we could save them for a rabbit.
Turns out the Baggetts got another rabbit or two, then ended up with babies.
So we brought one home yesterday.
See Jane.
If you come over, you can see Jane hop.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Tuning Your Antennae
Watched a documentary called For an Audience of One the other night. It made me groan and cringe. In short, it was about a pentecostal preacher that believed God called him to start a cutting edge movie company. I won't go into detail, but the first thing that was glaringly obvious to me was that he wasn't willing to admit that he might be wrong. And no one was willing to point that out to him. In a paraphrase from one of his congregants, it was obvious that he was sometimes wrong about things, but it was better to leave it alone and let God correct him. Scary.
Anyway, that got me thinking about something I've been thinking about. What I like to think of 'spiritual antennae'. I sat next to a guy on a plane once, that at first glance, thought was a biker. He turned out to be much more interesting than that. I can't remember exactly how he put it, but he was being harassed in his stream of consciousness by people and/or spirits that didn't like him, and he couldn't keep them out of his head. Paranoid schizophrenic or clairvoyant? I won't be the judge, but I wish I knew at the time to tell him that there was hope of blocking that station, so to speak.
Most of the time, we have our antennae turned only to receive our own station. A radio program that is all about self. I have met people that are really good at tuning into something else...
There was a guy named Andy that went to the church we used to go to. He liked to talk about the Holy Spirit as being something like the Easter bunny. The Easter bunny hides eggs for us to find, and these eggs are like little missions of love for other people. I have a good example of what he meant... When I was in college, I went through a rough patch. I remember sitting on the bottom floor of the science building early in the morning, trying to catch up on some work before class started, feeling depressed and lonely. The building was usually deserted at that hour. Andy, who was in the habit of walking the campus and praying in the mornings, got what he would call a little nudge from the Holy Spirit, the random thought to enter the basement of the science building. He had no idea I would be there, but because he was listening, I received some much-needed encouragement.
If God is love, then isn't that good news? Instead of being grumpy people that get upset about every little 'injustice' done to us, wouldn't it be more fun to try to spread some happiness? I've been trying to re-tune myself and be on the lookout. Instead of being upset at the non-attentive cashier, I am trying to be the one that smiles and is thankful (in spite of my unruly children). And I'm trying to remember to be on the lookout for Easter eggs.
Tying this train of thought into the documentary I mentioned at the beginning, it just seems that it is too easy to get wrapped up in what you think might be the 'call of God' for your life, when the most obvious call is to love your neighbor as yourself. Anything else that detracts from that most likely is not 'of God'.
Anyway, that got me thinking about something I've been thinking about. What I like to think of 'spiritual antennae'. I sat next to a guy on a plane once, that at first glance, thought was a biker. He turned out to be much more interesting than that. I can't remember exactly how he put it, but he was being harassed in his stream of consciousness by people and/or spirits that didn't like him, and he couldn't keep them out of his head. Paranoid schizophrenic or clairvoyant? I won't be the judge, but I wish I knew at the time to tell him that there was hope of blocking that station, so to speak.
Most of the time, we have our antennae turned only to receive our own station. A radio program that is all about self. I have met people that are really good at tuning into something else...
There was a guy named Andy that went to the church we used to go to. He liked to talk about the Holy Spirit as being something like the Easter bunny. The Easter bunny hides eggs for us to find, and these eggs are like little missions of love for other people. I have a good example of what he meant... When I was in college, I went through a rough patch. I remember sitting on the bottom floor of the science building early in the morning, trying to catch up on some work before class started, feeling depressed and lonely. The building was usually deserted at that hour. Andy, who was in the habit of walking the campus and praying in the mornings, got what he would call a little nudge from the Holy Spirit, the random thought to enter the basement of the science building. He had no idea I would be there, but because he was listening, I received some much-needed encouragement.
If God is love, then isn't that good news? Instead of being grumpy people that get upset about every little 'injustice' done to us, wouldn't it be more fun to try to spread some happiness? I've been trying to re-tune myself and be on the lookout. Instead of being upset at the non-attentive cashier, I am trying to be the one that smiles and is thankful (in spite of my unruly children). And I'm trying to remember to be on the lookout for Easter eggs.
Tying this train of thought into the documentary I mentioned at the beginning, it just seems that it is too easy to get wrapped up in what you think might be the 'call of God' for your life, when the most obvious call is to love your neighbor as yourself. Anything else that detracts from that most likely is not 'of God'.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Speaking of Collage...
After checking out the pathetic art sections that came with some of the traditional home school curriculums (envision 'cut out pre-drawn shape and glue to tongue depressor'), I bought a book called Artistic Pursuits. Once a week, you read the lesson that discusses a certain aspect of visual art, such as composition. Then you look at a picture of a masterpiece and talk about that work of art and how the discussed aspect is incorporated in that piece. The student then uses 'real' materials to create her own piece that relates to the lesson.
This week was about composition and using subjects from real life in your art. We learned about the Ebony pencil and the different ways to use it. This is what Finley came up with:
Flowers from my garden and Finley's hands holding a dirty worm. She took extra care to make sure she had five fingers on each hand.
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