Not a rainbow in the traditional sense.
I am a lame blogger, that’s for sure. Summer is upon us. I looked at last summers blogging and it was pretty lame as well, so par for the course.
In all reality I am tossing my hands up and saying “maybe not” to a lot of things lately. We’ll see what fall brings, but I might decide to be one of those homeschoolers who just hangs out with her kids and her friends and doesn’t jump on the class bandwagon. I would like to do some travelling this fall with the kids, go see my folks in SC, visit West Virginia friends, do some camping. Maybe go to DC? Don’t know, but I do know that registering for a bunch of classes is going to put a cramp in my style and keep us tied to a schedule. I gotta be free, man!
I know my last post about ending GS has been up for ever, so no need to rehash the subject, but it is still resonating, that the huge thing that I’ve done every fall is no longer something I have to do! What will we do? I am looking forward to it, whatever it is.
We are off to Iowa for more summer. Flat views of corn, soybeans, corn, corn, soybeans, corn, soybeans will be what we see tomorrow, but we usually get some pretty excellent sky views on our way to almost South Dakota and just beyond Minnesota. Last year we saw a circumhorizontal arc (which is the technical term for a really pretty rainbow with no rain in sight.)
here’s the technical details on that one:
“the arc isn’t a rainbow in the traditional sense—it is caused by light passing through wispy, high-altitude cirrus clouds. The sight occurs only when the sun is very high in the sky (more than 58° above the horizon). What’s more, the hexagonal ice crystals that make up cirrus clouds must be shaped like thick plates with their faces parallel to the ground.
When light enters through a vertical side face of such an ice crystal and leaves from the bottom face, it refracts, or bends, in the same way that light passes through a prism. If a cirrus’s crystals are aligned just right, the whole cloud lights up in a spectrum of colors.”
from National Geographic News
Juliette, are you reading my blog?
I am no longer a girl scout leader. Imagine that! For the last five years a large portion of my brain has been reserved for all things scout. My daughter has been a Girl Scout all of this time as well, but about midway through this past year made the realization that she was probably coming to the end of her GS path, which led me to the end of it as well, for now anyway. Someday I’ll be a leader again, but not for a long time. Maybe when I’m old, and maybe for neighborhood girls, who probably don’t get much chance to go camping with crazy hippy ladies.
For five years I have planned activities, field trips, camping trips, ceremonies and games. I have typed up hundreds of explanatory bits of paper, handed out permission slips, organized rosters and calendars, set up and maintained email groups.
I have been able to see an amazing group of girls grow up, from little skinny 6,7 and 8 year olds to teens. I have seen some girls join the troop, stay for a while and leave. I’ve taken girls on Amtrak trains, schoolbuses, canoes, vans , horseback, and walking trips. I’ve laid on a tarp with 40 girls and women, staring up at the starry sky. I’ve sledded down hills, and rolled down hills and climbed up hills with girls carrying all of their gear, 3 times a year for the last 4. I’ve shopped and packed and sorted and stacked. I’ve budgeted and bounced and lost track. I’ve collected and saved and ordered and awarded. I’ve worried and wondered and created and solved.
I’ve been fortunate to see girls, to have fun with them, to act crazy with them and dance with them. I have taught them how to build fires and cook on fires and put out fires. I let girls do things for themselves. I expected girls to do things for themselves. I expect that they will go on doing things for themselves.
Here is what I will miss:
camping with girls, playing games with girls, walking around with girls. thinking about them, carrying them around with me wherever I go and whatever I do. It will be strange to have this space in my life, where there used to be a troop. I think I will put my own kids in that space and see what happens when the three of them get to take all of it for themselves, plus some for me, and for John too.
Thank you Louise, Gaby, Athena, Monica, Fiona, Myra, Emily, Claire, Claudia, Clare K, Ania, Sydney,Katie P, Maia, Riley, Katherine, Rachel, Liz, Amelia, Julia, Meeja, Angelina, Mariaha, Rachel,Xanath, Sage, Zoie, Jenna, Zola, Raven, Pickles, Chloe, Anna, Lydia, Wonder L, Camille, Alexa, Veronica, Lindsey, Teaghan, Kieran, Saffron, Xena, Iliana, Helena, Risa, Rainey, Gwen, Lois, Aphra, Iris, Nadia, Emma, Mia, Amy Lynn, and some that I’m missing, I’m sure.
and Juli, of course.
like a brickwall. in my brain.
I am the most calendar challenged person I know. As we know, the calendar is basically a grid. A big grid, with very clearly defined symbols signifying the days of the week, and in turn, the month.
I bought some Cubs tickets, for a game that I thought was going to played this Sunday. I had this big plan that involved biking with Win to the bus, putting our bikes on the bus bike rack, and after the game heading down to the lake for a little ride, you know mom and lad- a day out on the town.
So I pulled out the tickets, just to make sure I knew where they were and that I hadn’t yet misplaced them (that would be my other disorder) and, hmmm. They said “Wednesday May 14th. 7:05 pm.” That’s today! and we just wasted an hour of our lives watching American Idol, which means that we missed the game entirely.
I think I need to lie down.
5ive in pictures
Once upon a time there was a little blondy baby.
Then five years passed, and he turned into this great kid:
There are no more babies in my house. Now we just have kids. Benji is 5 today! he wanted to celebrate by “not leaving the house at all”… which translates into not driving anywhere. We baked a chocolate cake and cupcakes, then the boys made giant water balloons, which we weighed on the scale, the heaviest was almost 30 lbs! We are going to pop them later and see how deep 100 lbs of water is. Sounds homeschooly, but was actually just spontaneous birthday fun.
Then the boys scootered and Louise and I walked to Pollo Campero for lunch and then to Target where Ben shopped for a Ben 10 Watch with his birthday money.
When we got home Ben’s friend from next door was ready to play. He ran in the house and grabbed the $5 his great grandma sent him and bought them both some ice cream from the ice cream man
Then, the kids drew with sidewalk chalk
It’s been a pretty low key day, and we will have a birthday dinner of spagetti with red sauce, garlic bread and salad, with chocolate cake for dessert. Tonight is orthodox good Friday, and there will be the parade of parishioners on our street with all of the regalia and incense. I hope it doesn’t rain on their sad parade.
I can’t believe my once little baby is now 5- life is zooming along at a pleasantly slow pace.
Go
My middle child has a brain that works in mysterious ways, many of which aren’t entirely clear to me. I wonder what sort of compartment he would be filed in if he were in school, what those folks would make of him. He has described his thought process to John and I at various times in his life, the most memorable was his description of a series of screens inside his mind that he pulls down to access the information he needs. When my schooly nerves kick in and we attempt to do something along those lines, he acts as though he’s being required to push a boulder up a rocky hill. If he weren’t so interested in history and science, and nature and didn’t get excited about all sorts of new skills and information (blacksmithing! photography! drawing!) I would worry about him, but I don’t. He is like his Dad, I suspect, smart in ways that I can’t really see, because I am not smart in those ways (don’t worry, I know I have plenty of other kinds of smart)
One thing that he really loves is to play Go. John and Win play almost daily, and spend time together working out Go problems. John started playing with a friend a while back, and was given a nice wooden board (called a Goban) as a gift and taught Win to play. Just recently they bought a new set of stones which are curved on both sides and therefore easier to pick up, they are stored in these cool red plastic bowls with lids, the whole thing is very aesthetically pleasing. They play a 9 x 9 game, which is more suited for beginners, and Win started with a handicap of I think 5 stones, but that has decreased as he’s gotten better. During his work day John sends Win problems to work out, and Win plays on the computer and spends time watching the computer play.
here is the quick Wikipedia definition of the game:
Go is played by two players alternately placing black and white stones on the vacant intersections of a line grid. The standard size of this grid is 19 × 19, although the rules of Go can be freely applied to any size: 13 × 13 and 9 × 9 are also popular choices for simpler and more tactic-oriented games as well as a way to introduce Go to new players. The objective of the game is to control a larger part of the board than the opponent. To achieve this, players strive to place their stones in such a way that they cannot be captured, while mapping out territories the opponent cannot invade without being captured. A stone or a group of stones is captured and removed if it has no empty adjacent intersections, the result of being completely surrounded by stones of the opposing color.
On one hand, placing stones close together helps them avoid capture, as they can support each other and capture attacking stones before they are themselves captured. Placing stones far apart, on the other hand, influences more of the board. Part of the strategic difficulty of the game stems from finding a balance between such conflicting interests. Players strive to serve both defensive and offensive purposes, and choose between tactical urgency and strategic plans. The game ends, and the score is counted when both players consecutively pass on a turn, indicating that neither side can increase its territory or reduce its opponent’s.
It’s one of those games that you can learn quickly and then spend the rest of your life studying. I know it is really good for Win to play. He loves to play chess and any other sort of strategy games as well. I plan to play Go with him again, but like so many things in family life, when there is someone else who already perfectly fills that role, there isn’t a need for everyone else to do it too. I don’t find myself in the path of the Go board very often.
While we were at Clam Pass Beach in Naples John made a Go board at the beach, and then collected small white and black shells to play. The first board was made too close to the waters edge, and got washed away, so Win and I moved farther up the beach and flattened out a spot in the dryer sand.
We all wondered if anyone else came across the Go board and shells and sat down to play, or was curious about what it was and who had made it. I’m sure they will make another one when we go to Shalda Creek, up in Michigan this summer.
Sand, sun and easy listening
We are off to Naples tomorrow, to visit with TannyII, the woman who married John’s dad a few short years before he passed away. We decided to keep her. So, we’ll be swimming and going to the beach, and probably to Corkscrew Swamp, which is where the above photo was shot. It’s a cool place, and hopefully we’ll see some good wildlife. In the past we’ve seen lots of gators and all sorts of birds and turtles. One time we saw a hawk swoop down and catch a snake, amidst a flock of woodstorks. Nature overload!
The other side of that coin is Naples, which is the land of easy listening, fancy cars, impeccable landscaping and gated communities. Not to mention inground swimming pools, out on the lanai.
hmmm. just for the record, we take pictures of all of our kids when we are on vacation
wow, brown hair!
it’s supposed to get to 70 in Chicago next week…. please tell all flowers not to bloom until I get back.
Geocachaholic
most recent GB column: (update 4/8: my editor, for whatever stupid reason, thought that he should retitle my column “Treasure Hunting The Woods” which is just bad. So, don’t be alarmed if you visit gapers block and see those four random words at the top of my column. I am a little annoyed.)
Nature Hotline
Lori Upchurch
I can’t confirm that this winter was any longer than past winters, but it sure seemed like it, and most everyone I know seems to agree. The late March snow was most disheartening, prompting us to take a stand. We cut out a paper snowflake and a big red x and taped it to the front window. It hasn’t snowed since, and I’m leaving it right where it is to make sure the bad thing doesn’t come back. That’s right, mother nature, I’m talking to you. Towards the end there (and let’s all agree that we have reached the end) on one of the semi pleasant days between snowstorms, a friend and I dragged a bunch of kids out to the Harold “Hal” Tyrell Trailside Museum, tucked away in Thatcher Woods, along the mighty Des Plaines, bordering tony River Forest.
The best thing to do in the face of late winter/early spring mental health issues is to team up, and pick a low stress activity. Kids in the woods need very little parental interaction, and fresh air does everyone a bit of good. Given the freedom to roam, to pick up sticks and bash things with them, to scramble down muddy embankments, to locate all manner of wildlife from the lowliest slug to the regal goose, kids can expel months of pent up energy and parents can take a breather. After visiting with the rescued wildlife (talking crow, grass snake, robin with a broken wing, owl) we hiked along the river a bit and found a sunny meadow next to the trail. We picked a central location to watch the kids from and turned them loose. After a good stretch of haphazard running amok, the kids divided into shifting teams and began building shelters with fallen branches, the girls building what appeared to be some sort of moon lodge, and the boys an encampment and weapons storehouse.
As my friend and I sat on our log, we lamented the approaching winter/spring storm; we could feel it moving in from the west. The afternoon was growing chilly, the blue sky slowly turning back to that particular shade of white; the color of late winter depression. Who knew when we’d be able to get out and play next? The forecast for the coming days was grim. We agreed that it was vitally important to our collective sanity, to take advantage of whatever semi- pleasant weather was afforded us. Thus, the Nature Hotline was established. Should one of us, peering out of our window, spot some blue sky, she would call the other, rally the children and we’d form our own little flash mob, a small group running outside to take advantage of whatever edge of the slowly approaching spring happened to be showing.
So, this week, when the sun beaming in through the bedroom windows woke us up, I expected to open the curtains to find a leafy green morning, and not just because my son greets every dawn with the words “it’s summertime!”. The birds were up- cardinals, robins, the flock of mourning doves… all had a lot to say about the sunny day, the pleasantness of the breeze. Of course, upon opening the curtains, all of the branches were still bare, and though the mountain of plowed snow over in the church parking lot was greatly diminished, there was still a little left. When I stepped out to get the paper it was pretty cold, but no matter, that’s what jackets are for. It was a gorgeous, sunny day, it was time to call the Nature Hotline.
I would have been content to drag everyone up to the pond and poke around with sticks, but my friend, being more energetic and better at creative activity planning than I had already formed a geo caching plan. She presented me, via email, several options, three of which were out in Schiller Woods. We would go to Schiller Woods then, out west on Irving Park Road, past Cumberland, and we’d take the dog with us. She needed a day out sniffing around in the woods too, and one of the best reasons to have a 100 lb dog is so that you can go into the forest preserves feeling relatively safe.
As I’ve mentioned in the past, it is often difficult to get my youngest child to leave the house, since most of the time he has to go someplace, it means transporting his siblings from point A to point B, or picking up or dropping off a child that isn’t his playmate, but rather some boring girl, or older boy who can’t be bothered with him. I can’t blame the kid, I usually don’t want to go either. On this morning, he was laying on the floor, neck deep in lego’s, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of power ranger underpants. I said “hey, let’s go treasure hunting!”. He started to protest and put up the usual fight, but then the words “treasure hunt” sunk in and he asked what that meant. I told him we were going to go hunt around in the woods for some kind of hidden treasure. Magic words, apparently, we were dressed and out the door in five minutes. Within the hour we were deep into the woods.
I haven’t participated much in the geo caching craze, which probably isn’t really a craze, unless you are nature loving, puzzle solving, adventurous techno nerds, which clearly describes not only my family, but many of the people we know. So it’s a small craze. I’ve only had the opportunity to experience geocaching at a Girl Scout camp, when my troop hid a geocache on the property for other troops to discover. The concept, in case you don’t know, is that all over the world there are people hiding things in secret spots, posting their coordinates on the internet, and then other people get their GPS devices strapped around their necks and march all over trying to track down the treasures, following the coordinates on the GPS device. Sometimes there is a theme, or a clue hidden in the name. Usually what you’ll find is a buried or securely hidden, weatherproof container, often an ammo can. Inside you will generally find a notebook and pen or pencil, some small items for trading such as little toys or things relating to the theme. Some geo caches are “micro-caches”, so small that they don’t have actual items in them besides information about a web page to log onto to post your findings.
Geocaching is one of those great family activities, as it’s a great way to explore some areas that you might not normally, and once you acquire the GPS, it’s free. If you don’t want to shell out for a GPS but are interested in this type of thing, Letterboxing may appeal to you. Letterboxing is the same basic idea, but more old school, as you are given map coordinates and text based clues. Letterboxers often have a personalized stamp made, both to share with those who find their letterboxes, and also to stamp the book stored inside the found letterbox with their symbol. People who hide a geo cache (or letterbox) are responsible for the maintenance of the cache, periodically coming back to check on it, to make sure it’s still weather proof, and that all of the items in the cache are in good working order and supply. And not buried beneath 8 feet of river water.
We followed the directions given to us by the GPS, and walked north, looking to find the path leading to the Des Plaines River and then south to find treasure. We had the woods to ourselves, there wasn’t another soul around, aside from one man back in the woods, scavenging beer cans. ( note: we did not have the parking lot to ourselves, just the woods. The forest preserves, particularly the secluded parking lots, are notorious spots for um… cruising. If you head out there, consider yourself warned. Those guys aren’t interested in a van filled with women and children, though, so don’t be scared to go for a hike. ) We counted 21 deer, many who seemed completely unpreturbed by our presence. We found the river and walked the trail alongside and above it, looking down at the water line, which had risen to half the height of many trees. It was difficult to tell exactly where the actual river banks once were, half of the forest appeared to be submerged. The river had flowed well past it’s western bank, where the first of the caches lay hidden. We quickly scratched that one off of our list and proceeded onward on our search for the other two. According to Kim, who has spent many an hour hunting caches with her family, not just around Chicago but all around the country, her family had to learn a hard lesson- sometimes you don’t find what you are looking for, so best not to make the outing all about finding the cache. A couple of adults can still enjoy the process of hunting, exploring new terrain, seeing some wildlife even if they don’t end up finding anything. With children in tow, however, an unfound treasure can be a huge let down. I was beginning to get an inkling of what might be in my very near future when, about 100 yards ahead of us on the path, we discovered that the Des Plaines had breeched the eastern bank as well, scratching cache #2 off of the list as well.
For curiosities sake, we hiked to the very last possible speck of trail that we could before it became river. We all stood on our little peninsula, the kids tried to measure the depth of the water by hurling several logs and sticks into it. I kept the dog from going for a swim, and we turned back, heading for a path we had spied, heading east into the forest. We hoped to be able to travel far enough in to be able to head back south across dry land for one last effort to find a cache. It was looking good. Ahead of us, rising up out of the forest to the south was a grassy plain, it looked like a likely spot. The GPS directed us, unfortunately, 500 feet west. Our third and final hope for treasure was under water. Fortunately, by this time, the youngest in our group had entirely forgotten about finding anything, so busy was he jumping streams, dragging sticks, climbing over logs. We found a spot to rest and have a snack at the waters edge. A snail was found, and admired. The dog finally got herself into the muddy water, under the not so very watchful eyes of the 12 year olds. A decision about the acquisition of ice cream was reached, and we prepared to head back. We had hiked about a mile, which doesn’t seem far unless you are faced with having to retrace your steps with a four year old. Through the woods, which were just beginning to show the faintest signs of spring (if you don’t count a swollen, overflowing river and 21 hungry deer) we saw the sun bouncing off of something shiny. It was big, and white, and just about the best thing you could hope to find when not finding treasure, the mini van, parked and waiting for us, not 50 yards away.
—————————–@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@—————————————–
For all of the information you could ever want on Geocaching, I recommend spending some time hunting around on Geocaching.com. There are caches hidden all around town. The descriptions alone are worth reading, and will give you some very different points of view from which to explore Chicago. Like this one.
Thanks to Kim, for sharing all of her geo caching knowledge with me.
Project: Pretty
I read this thing in Martha Stewart a while back. Not so much read, really, as ogled. The spread was about storing and presenting jewelry. First of all there was all of this amazing, simple, lovely jewelry, the kind that you have to have a lot of extra money to buy, and a lot of extra style to pick out. Then they took a bunch of gorgeous scraps of fabric, vintage velvets mostly, and made special little holders for the jewelry. Rings, for example, were stored on a rolled piece of velvet in one photo, were placed on a perfect stick, were set carefully in a little velvet box. Old button cards held earrings, as did vintage mother of pearl buttons. It was the kind of article that makes your stomach hurt a little bit because we all know that that is just absolutely another world, not even a real one, but certainly not one that I live in.
That being said, there has been this little metal box, with four drawers, hanging around in the periphery of my life. For a long time it has been holding odd sewing notions, beads, patches… little things I didn’t know what to do with but didn’t want to get rid of. Recently, since I’ve moved all of my craft stuff and all of my office stuff into one extraordinarily messy corner of the house (though with new desk and cupboards, it is supposed to not be so messy…. the problem, I’m afraid, is that I am messy. It’s not my stuff’s fault), and this little box has been sitting on my desk. One afternoon I decided to turn it into a jewelry box. There is a metal sticker on the top, with a picture of an artists pallet. It says:
“Indispensible for the Home office, home workshop, garage, fisihng tackle, stockroom, nursery, sewing room etc… A place for Everthing, and Everything in it’s place- The New File Away Chest
This is the top drawer. From front to back, I used a vintage linen hanky, from my Grandma Small’s house, to hold my engagement ring, which was re-set with an amethyst, an old marquisite ring that my Grandma gave me, and an opal ring that I inherited from my mother-in-law, Debbie, who passed away when Louise was a baby. Behind that is a piece of gray wool felt rolled, and holding my wedding ring, a spoon ring with a capricorn goat stamped in it, and an agate ring that my friend Giselle pulled off of her finger and stuck on mine when I said that I admired it. Behind that is a peice of pink felt with three mother of pearl buttons, holding two loose earrings, and one pair of pearls, also from Debbie. Behind that is another vintage hankie, with a button card (Lady Washington Baby Pearls) holding the amethyst earrings that I was given by John on our 11th anniversary, which I forgot, because I was tired from camping.
In the next drawer I used bits of lace trim that I got from my Grandma’s house to hold, on the left, two brooches that were hers, and on the right, one brooch, my best (as Ben would say) a little spring bird that belonged to Debbie. I love the way they look on the lace. Behind is a bracelet that Giselle made and gave to me for Christmas, the day she and I went shopping and I bought three pairs of frivolous shoes.
I used more of the gray felt and a white pipe cleaner (or “chenille stem” which is the pc term for pipe cleaner these days) to hold two little brass cups. These two are from set given to me by the girlfriend of an old friend of my parents. There is one missing, a tiny brass coffee pot. I hope it turns up someday. To the right of that is another brooch of my grandmas, resting on a patch of a blue bird that I found amongst her sewing notions. Behind that are two random buttoms, one which says Biker Chick (which I’ve always intended to give to my friend Stacey) and the other says tree hugger. It shares space with a copper and bead ankle bracelet. Next to that is a little fabric ornament I made a few years ago. I cut a flower out of a vintage table cloth, machine quilted it onto wool felt,and sewed it onto a backing of canvas and rik-rak, and attached two wool felt leaves. I think I made it for my friend Piper’s holiday craft sale, but didn’t end up selling it because I liked it a lot.
You can also see, in the top photo, a glass slipper and a pin cushion, both of which are pretty things that came from my Grandmas’s house. There is also a little bead and button flower, in the very bottom drawer, which I have had in my jewelry box since I was a teenager. I think it came from my Grandma’s house, like all pretty things seem to have.
18 Minutes with an Agile Mind
get yourself a cuppa tea. This Ted Talk by Clifford Stoll is perhaps an indicator of the future of kids who are allowed to let their brains roam. Yes, he’s a spaz. Nice payoff at the end.
I do not care to look at corporate conference rooms, I prefer beautiful dancers.
I had posted my most recent Gapers Block column, Not Yogurt Not Pudding, up here, with a photo of a scary bland conference room, but I decided I’d rather look vintage Belly Dance photos instead. Please scroll down to read my column…. if you dare! Meanwhile, feast your eyes on this
