October 11, 2010

Here is my day, beginning after lunch - the life I swore I'd never live:)


1:10 Thomas to gym class
1:50 pick up Thomas
3:15 pick up Rachel from school
3:40 pick up Connor from school
4:00 Thomas to dance
4:15 pick Connor and Rachel up from home
4:30 Connor and Rachel to dance/snag Thomas
5:00 pick up Connor from dance
5:15 take Thomas to soccer
5:30 drop Connor off at friend's house.
6:30 drive to Dunbridge soccer fields to have Brenda Shope sign Robin Hood paperwork
6:45 pick up Thomas from Carter Park soccer fields
7:00 pick up Connor from friend's house
7:15 dinner with boys (no Thad)
8:00 pick up Rachel from Elsassers
9:00 leave to pick up THad's mom from Megabus bus stop in Toledo.

June 3, 2008

"Where do your kids go to school?"

"I homeschool them."

"Really? I think that is wonderful! That is fantastic!"

"Um. That's not the usual response I receive," I replied with a smile.

I was at a high school graduation party, chatting with a woman who also happened to be a former high school classmate of mine. Our paths crossed at this party, and it was fun to touch base.

I have been homeschooling for five years. During the first year (or maybe even two), I am quite sure I was far too outspoken about this seemingly radical educational choice we have made for our children. It took me a while to figure out that folks aren't generally all that interested in why we do school from home. When I (finally) stopped bringing it up myself, I was fascinated to realize how few questions folks ask about homeschooling.

Or, maybe I just didn't give them a chance:)

Recently, however, I have found myself engaged in a number of conversations about homeschooling.

Culturized

December 16, 2007

I don't know that I've heard or seen that word made into an adjective. Its sound reminds me faintly of pasturized:)

But, with all the performance-related field trips we have attended this last month, I believe my children are getting "culturized." Yesterday, we went to see the local dance studio's production of The Nutcracker. I probably wouldn't have chosen to do this, but Connor and Rachel saw the ad for it and asked if we could all go. So,we did. It really was quite good - I'd like to make it an annual event, if Julie does it again. Even Thomas enjoyed (the first hour of) it. It was about 90 minutes long. The set backgrounds were quite colorful and the costuming fantastic. The dancers were talented and prepared in this jazzy version of a ballet that I usually find to be a bit of a yawn.

How I spent one hour this morning

January 16, 2012

I have chronic "tennis elbow" from working on my work laptop. It is sporadic and treatable (with Advil, and Vicodin when it gets really bad), but annoying.

I'd never had problems until I worked on a keyboard that was up too high. So, last year, when it got really bad, I searched the Internet for a portable desk that I could use at home and at work that would put my laptop at the EXACT height I need (23 inches) to prevent the pain. Well, long story short, that didn't work. Regardless, I found a way to sit at work that reduced the pain and, for the most part, I haven't had an unrelenting problem for a while.

Until yesterday. Oh.My.Goodness. That searing, burning pain is really quite uncomfortable. So, this morning, I was back on the Internet, looking for solutions, since throwing money at a problem is my first line of defense:) Nothing. Everything I looked at failed in some requirement: It must be adjustable to 23 inches; my feet and chair have to be able to get all the way underneath it; I have to be able to prop my feet up about two inches. Ridiculous, I know. But, at least I know what works, right?

Working against my brains preference for throwing money at problems, I stopped surfing and started thinking. Was there anything around the house that already fit all these requirements? Aha! I remembered the little kid table that I bought years ago - that would be perfect. Except then I'd have a table in the middle of my already-cramped office and I know full well that I would never move it in and out. Also, it was being effectively used as a holder of stuff in the attic. Ugh. I do not want to do that.

I continued thinking and looking around. Wait! The hutch we use to store winter accessories was originally designed as a computer hutch. It has pull out shelves! Yay! After measuring and thinking and pondering, I figured I could move the one shelf down 2 inches and, voila', I would have the exact same keyboard setup that I have with my desktop.

Now, I am a competent person. I was single until I was thirty and have worked with my share of power tools. We did all the painting and staining of our house. I can figure things out. Right?

I unscrewed the shelf "guides" that the shelf moves in and out on. Grrrrr. They did not use wood screws. I wonder why? If you have pointy screws, then all you have to do is hammer a little hole with a nail and then force the screw into the cheap wood. Well, I'll assume there was some reason.

So, I go in search of the drill. Again, I am a competent person, but I have been married for 17 years to a man who is far more competent than I, and I have been happy to relinquish to him all power tool activities. Where is the drill. I do know that he bought a cool cordless one. But, I have no clue where it is. So, I found my old drill (yes, I came to the marriage with a drill:), the bits (which were spilled out in the bottom of a file cabinet drawer), and the bit-loosening thingy (I said I was competent; I never claimed to remember the names for all the thingys:)

I know enough to know that the secret to these kinds of repairs is to start small and work up. I do not want to have to find different screws. So, three bit sizes later, I got the perfect hole. My husband would be proud to know I measured twice before I drilled. Personally, I think it is quite impressive that it only too me three holes to get two that worked perfectly. One side done. Whew. I even attached the guide and checked the shelf on the one side, just to make sure I had done that side correctly. Looked good.

On to the next side. WOrking on the right was a lot more awkward. My back started to hurt more than my arm, from all the twisting and turning. I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't going to mess something else up on my body in an effort to eliminate the tennis elbow. I gave thanks that no one was video taping my contorted efforts. I laughed. Then, I realized if I just took out the shelf that I was wrapping my body around, it would be a LOT easier. Duh. I crawled into the bottom of the hutch and drilled straight holes. The first one worked. Yay. I got the second hole drilled (oops, all the way through the wood). Oh, well.

I proceeded to screw the guide in and somehow all my pre-measuring didn't work out. quite. right. Still, six holes for four screws. I'll take it. I slid the shelf onto the guide. Worked like butter. Yay.

Now, I'm pretty sweaty and my back is killing me from all the circus moves. But, I'm not stopping now. I set up my laptop, turn it on and...blue screen. What? You've got to be kidding me. That lasted about three seconds and I reminded myself of one of my favorite sayings, "It's not a thing till it's a thing." I pulled the battery and restarted the laptop. All was well. Yay.

I had already checked to make sure my laptop cord would reach to an easily accessible outlet. I hadn't thought about checking the INternet cord because of COURSE that would be long enough. (I don't use the wireless with my work laptop because it isn't quite reliable enough.) Well, it was NOT long enough. More tugging and twisting of the cable (that comes from the basement and up through the floor (hope I didn't mess anything up down there) and it.just.reaches. Yay.

So, that's it. Six holes. Four screws. Tight cable. Working laptop. It only took me an hour:)

Our RV Adventure

June 25, 2015

We had such a wonderful time on our RV adventure.   I took notes as we traveled, and my notes morphed into this (kinda long) post/essay/journal.

****************************************************************************

Thad and Rachel retrieved the RV from Labadie RV on Thursday afternoon.   Thad found the RV orientation/explanation lacking, but we muddled through the few hiccups we encountered.  I think Thad also found the width of the vehicle difficult to adjust to, but he was a professional RV driver by the end of the weekend.

I spent exactly twenty four hours packing, minus the six hours I slept between Thursday and Friday.  I constantly balanced “do we really need that?” with “oh, just throw it in there.”  In the end, I’m really glad we took our electric griddle.  I’m also happy I took an abundance of laundry baskets.  Actually, my obsession with all-things-baskety came in very handy.  On the flip side, I wish I would have known we could just pack our clothes in the closets (and not put everything in suitcases first). 

The trip to Hocking Hills was uneventful.  In fact, the drive down was a bit anti-climactic.  It turns out that sitting in the passenger front seat of an RV is EXACTLY LIKE sitting in the front seat of a van.  Plus, I didn’t even have to use the bathroom during the drive!  What is the benefit of a mobile potty if you don’t use it?  Add that to the momentary panic I felt as we exited the highway in Logan – WHAT EXACTLY ARE FIVE ADULT-SIZED PEOPLE GOING TO DO IN THREE HUNDRED SQUARE FEET FOR THREE FULL DAYS???

We pulled into our campgrounds and I felt like I had been transported to the set of the movie Deliverance.  Long-term residents housed rusty campers on teetering cement block.  The view of the pool through the fence slats revealed hues of brown and green that should really not exist in a chlorinated pool.  The word “brackish” comes to mind.  We found one of the two pull-through campsites reserved for large RVs.  Only one of them had working water and electric, so we got our beast situated.

Have you ever been on the BGSU intramural soccer fields after a heavy rain?  We once set up our sports chairs on the sidelines in four inches of water; there were tadpoles navigating blades of grass… and our ankles.

This describes our campsite. 

We knew southern Ohio had been rainy, and we knew the forecast was for more weekend rain.  We also have lived much of our lives in Bowling Green, Ohio, so we understand “swamp.”

But.  Gross.

It got better.  And, I mean this in all snarkiness. The “office” was mostly empty, except for a few shelves sparsely stocked with miscellaneous camping stuff.  There were also many spider webs.  Clean was not a priority here.  We did find a $1 pair of flip flops for Connor, so that he did not have to wear Rachel’s backup pair of fluorescent, tangerine-colored water shoes.  We had that going for us.

At nightfall, we managed a soggy fire, mostly fueled by a neighbor’s pine wood that he insisted we take.  Now, I felt like I was in the movie Fargo. We finished our first night to the blaring sounds of Neil Young, which lasted long after one am.

We departed this first campground, with no intention of returning, and headed out to hike Hocking Hills.  The state park is stunning and well-run.  The trails are marked dirt paths; bridges and walkways constructed of natural materials improve the safety and ability to navigate the forest.  The trees hang paternally, creating a protective canopy.  Our mantra for the weekend became, “Don’t forget to look up!”

This is an excellent mantra on any day.

The predicted rain fell, but because Thad is Thad, we were covered in plastic.  Our garage sale ponchos were the perfect attire for the summer precipitation.  It never stormed, and the continuous drizzle only magnified the verdant lushness.  Gorges, waterfalls, caves, and hills.  It was spectacular.

Those of you with multiple children can relate to the challenge of accommodating various hiking preferences.  While Rachel can continue…um….continuously, the boys are inclined to the indoors.  This is fine.  Instead of doing the six mile trail, we walked a four mile loop, drove the RV to the far end of the park, left the boys with their books and air conditioning, and headed out to Crystal Falls with Rachel. 

We were amused to find a wedding party taking pictures at the waterfall.  The bride hitched her dress, revealing cowboy boots which got soaked in the calf-deep creek.  The groom and his men were in full military regalia.

It was cool.

We eventually left the forest and quickly found a lovely new campground with dry grass, working utilities, and a real office.  I was no longer living in an imaginary movie.

We had a delightful conversation with our kids about how, apparently, campsite pricing is analogous to hotel pricing.  In the same way there is a difference between a $60 hotel and a $120 hotel, $30 campsites are not the same as $60 campsites.  Go figure.  I loved Rachel’s reasoning about the experience.  Even though the three-day cost of the first campsite was non-refundable, we were really only out $30, if you compare our total expenditures to what it would have cost for three nights at the nice campground.

She is awesome that way.

We were able to build a nice, arid fire, which did not eclipse the light of the fireflies.  En masse and from a distance, firefly bellies glow white.  Their twinkling luminescence appears like descended stars.  We looked up.

Sunday dawned sunny and hot.  Again, the forecast was gloriously wrong, but the local rivers had crested at flood stage.  We ended up canoeing and kayaking on Lake Logan.  We explored the coves, enjoying the families of swans, geese, and ducks we encountered.   After our water fun, we headed to the buffet restaurant recommended by the canoe people.  My teenagers definitely get our money’s worth out of those placesJ.

We headed home on Monday morning, got the RV in tip-top shape, and returned it in plenty of time.  Unpacking took less time than packing, but the laundry still lives on, unfolded.  I cannot do laundry while “looking up” so it will just have to wait.

Some other random thoughts from the trip.

Our kids don’t bicker very much – at least not compared to the seemingly constant antagonistic conversations I remember during our bi-yearly travel as a child.  I recall Christopher Darden saying in his book, In Contempt, that unless you grow up in it, you cannot understand the “claustrophobia of poverty.”  I suspect much of the positive nature of our kids’ relationship is because they don’t have to be “touching each other” during a non-air-conditioned, three-day drive in a compact Subaru.  RV travel is luxuriant.  Everything is within a step’s distance, except your siblings, but including the bathroom.  Yes, I used it during our non-stop trip home.

I read a lot.  In an effort to gain a modicum of insight into what my older kids read, I finished John Green’s Looking for Alaska.  In my opinion, this book glorifies teenage drinking, smoking, and sex as a solution to contemporary teenage angst.  Still, it describes THE BEST PRANK EVER, which was hilarious, despite my objection to pranks in general.  And, the dialog is witty, the characters complex enough, and the plot compelling as the first person narrator divides the story into “days before” and “days after.”  I had fun talking to Connor about the nature of adolescent drama - whether it is a modern construct or truly inherent in human nature.  He quoted Socrates as evidence of the timelessness of adolescent anxiety.  I questioned his memory of the quote, and recalled it (indeed more accurately) as an adult’s lament about the behavior of youth.  Here is the quote:

“The children now love luxury. They have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise.”  (Socrates)

Traveling in a recreational vehicle IS a luxury, and my kids DID love it.  But, they displayed decent manners, and no contempt or disrespect…that we saw or heardJ.

In response to those who point out the misbehavior of the "other side"...

It really isn't all that difficult to come up with long lists of bad behavior on both sides:)

But, that is the point that I took from Fischer's writing. We'd all be a lot better off if we took a good hard look in the mirror and fixed the stuff that we (or our side) could improve upon and less time with a magnifying glass on others:)

Personally, I'm quite fond of my" magnifying glass" which I find much more enjoyable to use than the "mirror":) But God calls us to hoist that log-viewing mirror around (and ditch the speck-finding magnifying glass) for a good reason. When we are focused on the magnifying glass, we lose sight of what we are supposed to be doing in the first place.

Well, at least I do:)

Food fight

My kids fought over dinner tonight. I don't mean they fought with each other. I mean they argued over who would get to finish the main meal.

You don't understand.

This. Does. Not. Happen.

I **really** did not feel like making dinner tonight. This eight o'clock meal time is difficult to generate enthusiasm for. I sat and stared at the computer until it was almost too late to put something together. I had a plan - I always have a plan:) It was going to be Beef and Noodles. Well, can't blame the kids. **I'm** sick of my food. Part of my doldrums stemmed from the unappetizing nature of the dinner plan.

So,I took the round steak and sliced it super thin. Then, I took some potatoes and sliced them paper thin, too. It really didn't take very long. I simply pan fried both entities in tons of yummy olive oil and spared no salt. After both were cooked, I combined for a hash-y looking mess.

That they devoured.

It really was pretty good.

Next time, I think I'll plan ahead and trim the meat and take it to Meijer for thin slicing. I'll also use my food processor to get the potatoes thin. The cheese grater makes me nervous:)