blogthing

You Are the Thumb

You're unique and flexible. And you defy any category. Mentally strong and agile, you do things your own way. And you do them well. You are a natural leader... but also truly a loner. You inspire many but connect with few. You get along well with: The Middle Finger Stay away from: The Pinky

What Finger Are You?

And we're back to cute pictures of Lil'Bug

Finally, right? I'm sick of writing about homeschool socialization, teaching philosophy (wait, did I post that one?), and the like so I am sure the distant relatives who only visit to see new cute pictures of the dear daughter are sick of trying to filter through my boring rants to find said pics. So here are the pictures of how we spent Sunday morning (at Living History Farms):

The first one she is helping scrape buffalo hide, then the second one is when the interpreter tells her that she's helping to make leather and her shoes are made of leather.

Later she has a talk with the lamb. She is worried about a fox she saw so she's telling the lamb not to worry, "Foxes eat other people's chickens, they don't have their own and they are hungry." They don't eat lambs? I didn't have the heart to tell her.

Then the farmer at the 1850's house let Lil'Bug help cook lunch. She got the water from the well jug and placed the potatoes in the prepared pot.

The picture I wish I got? Lil'Bug also helped round up a chicken that had twine tangled around its feet. She did a very good job helping, a natural at chicken herding. :)

Friday Freewrite: Make a wish!

"Today’s a day for wishes. Write about a wish you dearly hope will come true in your life."

This was a tough exercise. It was easy to talk about history or thunderstorms and the like, but wishes are something else entirely. I grew up making wishes. Nothing happened. Then I learned something else: plans based on wishes fail. So I make goals and plan for the goal. Sometimes my goals seem unrealistic, but that just means I have to work harder to attain them.

Learning is like this. I wanted to learn about architecture, reading online and in books was not getting me the education I felt I needed so I went to Graduate school and worked with professors, professionals, and others to learn the technologies of the trade. It's an industry that changes quickly so I have to keep up with my reading to stay current in the field. Right now, I am a stay-at-home-mom (or work at home, with online classes) and I don't really get to use my education in architecture. I'm not even really sure I will re-enter the field professionally. That doesn't matter to me. I love learning about it and helping others, discussing technologies, and educating those who are steadfast and old fashioned about the trade about new things they may not have considered. I can talk for days on end about old houses.

Now wait, this does relate to the freewrite! My wish is that my daughter will someday get to be as passionate about something as I am about old houses. That she will find joy in a subject and find work in the field that makes her happy to get up in the morning and go to work, that she has so much fun that it won't be work for her and that she will never be bored. I can read for hours about the history of indoor plumbing (ie African aqueducts that pre-date the Roman ones) and retain the information because I genuinely find it interesting. I wish that she finds that too.

I can't really make that a goal that I can plan for, but I can facilitate her learning in a way that doesn't make her hate education. I can watch for things that interest her and put opportunities in front of her for her to choose. Right now she is watching a DVD on zoo management. She picked it out at the library and she was thrilled when we got home that I said she could watch it right away. I hate seeing her glued to the TV, but she is enthralled. We visted a vet's office today and she asked them when she would be old enough to help with giving animals shots. They told her at "seven years old" she can help hold and comfort the animals. They told her she has to weigh as much as the animal to be able to help. She told me she wants to be an animal doctor when she is seven. Cute. She's been looking through out Hobby Farm magazines too. Who knows? Maybe next year she'll want to be a firetruck, but right now she wants to know about animals so that's what we are using to teach her. A is for alligator.

Laundry Fun! We're Totally Nuts Here.

Here's the deal. My dearest husband has this terrible, painful skin thing and medicines are not working for him. The ones that do a little bit are icky AND expensive, but they treat a symptom not the root cause. He's always complaining about things smelling too strong or itching, especially clothes. I thought we should change bath soaps. We did, Amy at the Foil Hat rocks some serious Pure Castile. That helped a little. So what about laundry soap? Some of the moms on our discussion board were sharing recipes for such soap, but even those have borax, or fels naphtha, or washing soda- all of which he reacts to.

Then I found soap nuts.

When I stumbled upon the Sapindus tree and its fruit/berries I was intrigued. I had been frustrated that all "soap" must use lye, but here was a plant that produces an agent that much of the world uses for laundry. Hmmmm. I cannot grow it in a zone 4/5. Surely someone has packaged it and is marketing it to hippies. If they don't, I will and I will get to roll in piles of "green" money.

Maggie's Pure Land got there before me AND I could order from them through amazon.com. That said, I was a little ashamed to use it, afraid that this would deeply root me as one of them, especially when it arrived and had a floating yoga hippie on the box and a free pair of love nut earrings. OMG. And then, what if its all a scam, after all the patchouli most hippies wear deadens their senses and they don't bathe anyway, so how would they know if their clothes were actually getting clean??!!?!?!?

Then my daughter itched at me. So in went the soap nuts and in went the clothes. They came out clean. Since there are no harsh detergents, they say there is no need to use fabric softener. They smelled like.....like....nothing. Like cotton. And DH itches less, claims that his shirts are so soft they tickle. So I washed sheets. The sheets dried in 20 minutes instead of an hour and each load had barely anything in the lint basket. It was seriously like I'd entered the laundry room of the Twilight Zone. Tonight I did the ultimate test, really stinky, slimy dishtowels that had sat in a bucket for two days. Clean? Oh my yes. I didn't even have to run them a second time or with bleach. When the soap nuts are used up, you compost them. I am sooooo totally the laundry queen! Now...... if only I could grow them myself!

The only downside I see is that my clothes are not super lamb soft like I was used to. I will continue on the quest to fix this, but DH and Lil'Bug don't seem to care. Also, I feel good about letting Lil'Bug help (she is such an adorable helper!), even handle the soap nuts. Check out the photos on the left for all the action packed sudsy goodness. (You have to click on the wash load picture to see most of the sudsing.)

We didn't do this to be "green", we did it to stop itching.

Mystery Melon?

Can anyone tell me if this is a pumpkin or a melon?

I know that we'll figure it out soon enough, but I am excited about having pumpkins and melons at all. You see, WE DIDN'T PLANT ANY! We have the worst time with squash beetle that I had just given up. These melons came out of the ground where the compost bin was last summer. So, any one who guesses right I will share some pumpkin soup with in the fall. :)

Kill Your Television

I found this study. Here is the main gist of it:

Television Statistics

According to the A.C. Nielsen Co., the average American watches more than 4 hours of TV each day (or 28 hours/week, or 2 months of nonstop TV-watching per year). In a 65-year life, that person will have spent 9 years glued to the tube.

II CHILDREN

Number of minutes per week that parents spend in meaningful conversation with their children: 3.5

Number of minutes per week that the average child watches television: 1,680

Percentage of 4-6 year-olds who, when asked to choose between watching TV

and spending time with their fathers, preferred television: 54

Just some food for thought for today. Seriously, minutes per week- 3.5. What are these parents doing??????? I can't go 5 minutes without Lil'Bug clamoring for interaction, discussion, or for questions to be answered.

Middle Name Meme

1. You have to post these rules before you give the facts.

2. Players, you must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of their middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.

3. When you are tagged you need to write your own blog-post containing your own middle name game facts.

4. At the end of your blog-post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Theresa, after my great Tant Therese.

Tired. Very tired. Of group dynamics, of friendships gone sour, of my neighborhood, of people criticizing our educational choices, of waiting to move, of student loans, of anxious students, and of being told that I don't clean my house very well. Bah.

Harry Potter FAN! I don't care for the fan fiction though, too much of it is sick and disturbing (I mean, these are children characters!) and not worth commenting further on. The books rock! H could also be for honey though. Ha.

Educated. I have a triple MA through the interdisciplinary program at ISU in Architectural Studies, American History, and (English) Creative Non-Fiction. I never had to take filler classes and it was a joy of an educational experience, what college should be, what all learning should be.

Ray of sunshine. I am an idealist until I hit a sour spell. Then I am that harsh, hard to be around for more than a little bit, August sun- the kind that burns with peeling. I chew on anger a little bit too long. I am working on this.

Egalitarian is what I am. Not a feminist, not a radical Proverbs 31 wife, not any varied labels of things. I believe that all are equal and I can find plenty of things wrong with people as individuals and I don't need to blanket label and make snap judgments. Except for hippies, I hate hippies; not the earth friendly mamas, but the pot smoking phony kind and there is a huge difference.

Soap. I am a soap junkie lately. I am having some trouble getting laundry soap just right, and a little frustrated that many cleaning products do NOT have an ingredient list. It's not like I'm looking for their formula, just double checking what's in 'em.

Apple lover. All things apple. I dream of someday having an apple farm. I don't mean that I plan on decorating any room in my house with an apple theme though. I love all things real food, soap, candle apple. I thought about A for apiculture, but since we've not yet kept bees, and I've eaten plenty of apples that's what wins out. Someday though.

Tagging: Mom Rox! Everyone else I know (I think) has already been tagged._ So if you lurk here and I didn't list you...consider yourself tagged!

Ooooopa Loooompa Doopadi Doo

Orange bedroom walls will do this to you,
If you wish to look like this too.
Ooompa Loompa Doopity Doo!

I can't quite get a picture of myself in the right light, but this morning I rubbed my eyes in and looked at my morning self in the dresser mirror. Whoa lady, if you ever wondered what you might look like with a spray on tan, paint your walls Geranium Orange. The reflected color was amazing, I even had the white eye rings like spray on tan ladies have. What a way to start the day. It was too early for my brain to process this, so my first thought was that my sheets, which are also terracotta orange, were bleeding dye. Then I thought maybe it was a weird rash. Then I fully woke up. Geesh.

Also, I finished Book 7 on Saturday afternoon. Dearest Husband wisely and graciously gave me a day off from kid duties, I ran errands in the morning, and settled in just before lunch to devour the book. For lunch, I was so unto the book I actually grabbed a fistful of ham out the fridge and a chunk of watermelon a bit later on. It was soooooo worth it. I am so in love with the character that I think looks like my DH and JK wrote him very well in this book.

I will post pics later along with my update on my quest for allergy free laundry.

The "S" Word, an exposition for those concerned

Socialization. Seriously. I thought it was "School" and homeschoolers were mocking people because of how very little time it takes to cover the material that a conventional school covers in 8 hours. So little that it is hardly like school at all, really.

But they were referring to socialization. The big nasty word that people who don't homeschool lower their voice and tone to say when commenting on the "dangers" of such a lifestyle. I'm a bit slow sometimes to read such body language and inferred meaning.

A student "informed" me in a flame mail that I am inflicting my daughter with an unfair segregation and she will have taken away from her team sports, school lunches, and friends! Um, no. Home School Assistance Program (HSAP) allows her to play on any team, take any class, go to band, etc that she wants, when she wants (not determined by age either, only ability) even dances if she chooses that. She also has the choice of team sports, practice, etc that are not connected to her schooling and there are many more of those, more on that later. School lunches? Hmmmm, maybe I should re-think my daughter's whole educational process so she can learn to consider ketchup as a vegetable serving, (insert rolled eyes here, I mean really?) AND FRIENDS? I have to laugh at that one. Lil'Bug has more friends that her socially inept mama (who is a product of Public School (PS)). I could even go on about comparing the PS classroom to Lord of the Flies. I've done this before when cornered with socialization, but that's the easy way to be snarky about it.

Why is the issue of socialization so often the fish brought out in "polite" conversation? Beats me. Maybe it is the only thing people can come up with since they can't argue test scores, manners, success, or happiness. Yes, happiness. Check out this link: homeschoolers all grown up. (It is a PDF.) So that's the formal research on it. A very, very low percentage of hmSchoolers end up in prison and a very, very high end up in college and HAPPY compared to the rest of society. Why then are we worried?

I started to look at it from a different perspective. What do they actually mean by socialization? What they mean is normal. Because realistically socialization is not restricted to public school days, and so very little of it actually occurs there K-8. Kids learn to socialize from their parents and community, their churches, their sports activities, etc. and most of that is outside school days. They may make connections to people at school, but the majority of the interpersonal interaction occurs outside the school bells.

So the real question is not about socialization, it's about normalcy. It's not about the academic education, it's about diversity in lifestyle and that is what people are having a hard time swallowing. PS institutional education is good enough for them, what they chose for their children, why is it not what we are choosing for ours? So they wrap this up in a big word and make it sound really bad, as if we are depriving her of something invaluable that she can't get anywhere else, when really that's obviously not the case at all. They are defending their own choices even though that is not what we are asking them to do. Am I worried that my kid is not going to be normal?

The answer is: I'm not.

I'm too busy with field trips and laundry to worry about something so silly.

What's your name?

My Rapper name would so be Professor D. and I would so get to say Professor D. is in the hizzle. Right? Snoop Doggy Dogg, while he would so fail my English class for this simply on the annoying factor, has a website that will translate regular English into gibberish:

My Rizzle nizzle would so bizzle Profizzle D. and I would so gizzle to sizzle Profizzle D. is in thizzle hizzle Rizzle Snoop Doggy Dogg, whizzle hizzle would so fizzle my Englizzle clizzle for thizzle sizzle on thizzle annoyizzle fizzle hizzle a wizzle thizzle wizzle trizzle rizzle Englizzle into gizzle

Seriously. Try it.

Also, this post was inspired by my dear Stinky B.

What others must think of us

What others think of us....

Yes, I am a professor. I teach English Literature and Composition at our local community college. I love it. It does not pay very much but it allows me to stay at home with Lil'Bug. I also love teaching and learning. I put a lot of hours in and I still care about most of my students as individuals. I am not the one up in the Ivory Tower, though I did study those while I was in school. Sometimes I bang my head on the table in frustration, but I have learned to move my coffee first. :)

Every semester is different, but similar. This summer semester I have many more papers to grade than usual and trying to keep up with that task is quite a feat. Perhaps the thing that is out of whack is the amount of money we spent on my education versus my earning potential as an online adjunct English professor. Doesn't matter. Raising and educating my daughter is the most important job I could ever do.

No complaining?

How did that work out for me? Did you see the last series of posts? Ha. I failed so miserably that my former Intro to Computer Science (that was actually a Java Programming course disguised as an entry level elective, that I took the semester I was to graduate) professor would have been impressed. He had the voice (almost the same build too) of Richard Dryfus in "What About Bob" and he even said, "baby steps," a couple of times. That didn't help me learn Java though.

Anyway. Fresh start right? Tonight I am going to try and cook a make up meal, finish grading summer semester papers, and clean house. All while fighting a summer cold and caring for a very energetic and angelic almost three year old. The worst kind of idealism is hope. Whatever. I am so going to beat this day!

Blogging is the new scrapbooking

.......but without all those weird scissors. I like blogging. So many of the interesting moments that Lil'Bug and I share are lost to the frantic chaos of our busy lives. I also needed an excuse to write again (if only I could get away with a blog for my novels, I might actually work on finishing those. Bah.) and I also get to share pictures with far far away people I love. If I were scrapbooking, I could not share our joy daily, but my Dearest Husband would be insane with all the arts and craft bits. Ok, more insane, since we already have a bit of an issue with our daily "art" exercises (complete with jumping jacks and running laps, it is like a dance aerobics and art class hybrid.)

Another sleepless one

I'm not sure why it is I can't sleep this week. It is making me cranky, or as a friend put it, "A freakin' ray of sunshine..." Indeed, a massive ball of incandecent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace. Oh wait, that's the actual sun, I'm just radiating from it.

Today we had a great play date, a disaster of a dinner, and a wonder filled bedtime for Lil'Bug, but goodness it is HOT! Somehow I must have turned off one of the AC units so as to better hear my guest, but that was a terrifically bad decision. Now it is sweltering.

I am thinking of ways to not just bore relatives and friends with what we had for lunch, so to say, on this blog. Ideas are welcome. So far I have found the Homeschool Carnival (County Fair) (Thanks to lurking Christine for that link! I had seriously never even heard of it!) and a suggestion from a student situation to blog about the reality of homeschool socialization versus what people perceive. Also, yes, I still have Angie's Chai brewing and will post it soon. Any other ideas? Anything any of you ever wanted to know about me?

And lunch? The other day we made Mac N' Cheese from scratch. When I was busy shredding cheese, Lil'Bug made a tower out of stuff. The original had more glass items and was much taller, but that met the rather predictable ending while I searched for camera and then batteries.

Tuesday morning

Me: What can I do to occupy you while I do this dishes, Lil'Bug?

Lil'Bug: I CANNOT BE OCCUPIED!

Me: Why not?

Lil'Bug: I don't WANT to be occupied!

Me: Ok.

Lil'Bug: Mama? I want to paint. I wan to eat an apple. I want to spin.

Me: Ok. Those things will occupy you.

Lil'Bug: I CANNOT BE OCCUPIED!

I got out the paints, the apple, and turned on some dancing music. And what is she doing? Sobbing inconsolably.

Thunderstorms

Bravewriter's freewrite friday: How do I feel during a thunderstorm......?

I delayed writing this one on Friday. I had a hunch that it was not a fiction exercise and it had been so long since I had been awake during a thunderstorm that I wanted to save the freewrite for a chance to write it out of the present. It worked like a charm. We finally got the rain we needed.

In "A Farewell to Arms" by Earnest Hemmingway there is a scene, a love scene, that involves the rain. I read that and it was the beginning of my love affair with thunderstorms and the written emotion of narrative. I would take virus luring walks in the cold rains that fell in Eastern Illinois where we lived, walk down to the river and watch the horizon of storms in the sky and water. Yes, I was dramatic. Across the river was an old insane assylum where the movie Child's Play was filmed (it was used as the set of the apartment building, Go Chucky!). It was a tall spired gothic structure, very church like.

Whenever I was feeling broken hearted teen angst I would walk out there in the rain. Thunderstorms made me feel that way, reminded me of turmoil. Then I grew up.

As an young newly wed/college student, I studied weather patterns. I was not a storm chaser, but I loved to track the radar online and then sit out on the open porch and drink hot tea when the storms would roll in. I still felt artistic inside when they would fill the sky. Then what is called a microburst dropped a steel door out of the sky onto my first new to me used car and bent the only tree on our small property in half. Dropped an old oak tree down the middle of a neighbors house and then blew back up into the sky. So, you see, a smashed car and mangled ten year old pin oak were nothing compared to our neighbor's loss, but still.

Last night my daughter slept though the night for the first time in her life. No requests for water, no midnight pee runs, no nightmares. She's almost three. How did I know she didn't wake up? I was right there watching her, worrying why? Seriously, this kid wakes up every 3 hours and has since before she was born. WHY IS SHE STILL ALSLEEP? Poke poke poke. Nothing. (She tossed and turned a bit, but did not wake up until 7:30 AM.)

Around 3:30 AM the storms rolled in. Lil'Bug's room has the south wall, nothing but windows, five of them, one is a big picture window. The storms were frightful and terrible and beautiful. Loud and bright. I just lay awake and tried to relax. I finally fell asleep around 4:40 AM. I fell asleep thinking about how my little girl's lavender purple room with the five windows is a perfect princess room, the kind of room I always wanted her to have and I am a little sad we are moving.

So, maybe I have not outgrown the angst after all.

We love the Fraggles

Lily has been singing, "Muck and Goo for you...." all week. It took me a while and finally asking Dear Husband to figure out where she got this. (No pictures, all are copyrighted!) Here it is:

Muck and Goo [01:17]

Performed by: Red, Uncle Matt, Pa Gorg, etc.

Notes: episode 20, also in episode 42 (partial)

Give me one and give me two,
Cover me with muck and goo.
Give me three and give me four,
Cover me with guck and gore.

One, two, muck and goo,
Down my sock and in my shoe.
Three, four, guck and gore,
Spin me 'round and sing some more.

Give me five and give me six,
Cover me with big, fat sticks.
Give me seven, give me eight.
Cover me with slime and slate.

Five, six and big, fat sticks,
An ice cream cone for me to lick.
Seven, eight, slime and slate,
Sing it now and don't be late.

Give me, give me number nine,
A bag of bones and a ball of twine.
Give me, give me number ten,
Run back home and start again.

Nine, nine, a ball of twine,
First it's yours and then it's mine.
Ten, ten, that's the end,
So run back home and start again.

Run back home and start again.

Recipe Time! Sunday morning fare

(Hmmmmmm. What to do with leftover bratwurst? Casserole of course!)

Preheat oven 350-375 degrees

Beat 8 eggs.
Chop into quarter bite chunks the following:
1/2 medium tomato (leftover from grilling fixings)
1/2 medium white onion (see tomato)
1 small bell pepper (see previous post for picture)
1 smallish anaheim pepper
2 leftover and cold grilled bratwurst from the day before grilling feast
then add:
1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
salt and pepper to taste
beat some more as you add ingredients
add 1/3 cup of milk

What's missing? Ah, cheese! I've always had problems with cheese either burning on the top before the eggs are done or messing up the consistency if it's mixed in. So, I found several "learn to cook" websites that had bread crumbs and butter lining the pan and the cheese (sharp cheddar and Parmesan sprinkled on that before the egg mix is added. Done. It worked beautifully in a 9x9 glass dish, cooked for 45 minutes, (or until done, do not trust oven temps and times to be perfect or disaster is in your future!).

Yum. Serves 4.

Saturday Harvest

Bell Pepper, Anahiem Pepper, Banana Pepper, Blue Lake Green Beans (not in photo, but just past the bottom of the photo), AND.......one little red tomato. Yum.

The red tomato is our first of the season to ripen and Lil'Bug found it, picked it, coveted it, carried it around the yard, refused to share it, reluctantly allowed me to photograph it and wash it, and then ate it. Fun stuff.

Seven Wonders, my version

The modern seven wonders list was just released. That got me thinking. How about a seven wonders of Iowa list?
Grotto of Redemption
ANY one of our remaining historic county court houses (the wonder part is that they are still there at all!)
Covered Bridges
Neal Smith restored prairie
Hamm House in Dubuque
the Newton Library Bronze Dragon
all of Allamakee county

What are your favorite Iowa places? What should be on the list that I missed?

*I really want you lurkers to have a say, I want to know who is reading here. :) Then I want to read your stuff too!

Garden headaches

See that? That is a borer worm. Evil little sucker. Hollows out the plant then the second picture shows what's left. That is/was a pepper plant. Last month I posted pictures of my beans with a question of what did it, (ok, maybe I forgot to add text to that post.....) anyway, the answer is the pictured little pest worm. And no, this does not mean we are giving up our principles and turning to chemical poisons. We looked at pesticides at the garden store and every single one of them said: "WARNING, THIS PRODUCT KILLS BEES".......I refuse to be part of the problem. We need bees more than we need another pepper or bean plant. What we need to do is foster our lacewing population and get our soil even healthier to the plants can defend themselves.

Garden produce

Positive thoughts

It is possible that I am just trying to avoid thinking about the many negative things that I could gripe about (and have to my poor friends who are good sport about my whining), but here's a thought from Brave Writer:

Who in history would you be?

I would be me in a different era. I like me. I am not in love with 2007. I want to live on a farm, in a place that does barn raising and makes cheese from fresh milk and sweaters from sheep wool. Ok, maybe I want to be Amish with or without the whole go to church a lot thing. But really, the root of it is, in a community people don't use their neighbor's trucks for roman candle launchers.....because children and adults are taught to respect each other and each other's property, recognizing the hard work of others and not stomping on it. Fire blight, crop faliure, I can handle, but stupid people....not so much.

So, back to the history question. I would have liked to meet Amelia Earhart before she disappeared, asked those French royal dudes what kind of cake was their favorite before joining all the other angry housewives with bread knives, and then seen the Midwest's prairies before people planted corn everywhere. Maybe that's why I like Neal Smith Prairie Refuge so much. Then again, I do like the artistic visuals of planted corn and bean landscapes.

Update: forcast is busy

One of my three readers asked me why I had not posted anything since we got home. It's complicated. I took on an extra class in the middle of the semester and I have to redesign the course, create assignments, and quell student anxieties that are inevitable when a new professor steps in and takes over with only 4 weeks left in the semester. I have been very busy with that and my other 3 classes approaching their end date as well.

Then, we have been interviewing Realtors. It's a long, yet worthwhile, process. We learn a lot and they get to know the property. Then we are really busy getting the house ready to plant the sign in the yard. I am busy with my own anxiety about moving, or rather selling. I am rather attached to this house.

But mostly, we've been laying low and not doing anything really terribly interesting. It's hot and humid here and we are still tired from our trip. We went to park day, but it was pretty standard. I've been complaining alot out loud about 4th of July festivities encroaching on my quality of life, but I have declined to write about it. No neat pictures. No neat narrative. I promise I'll write when I have something lovely to share!

We got back on Wednesday night.

Our beautiful vacation was just long enough. I know it may seem short, but Lil'Bug really missed her Daddy and Moon Puppy. So we headed home through Wyoming and Nebraska. We drove straight through, with nap and runnin-playin' breaks.

I am glad to be home. Leaving for a bit reminds me of why I love Iowa so much. Here is my list for the week:
1) Iowa rest stops have free wi-fi.
2) Iowa rest stops are right off the road (in WY and NE often you had to pull off an exit and then drive a bit to a secluded area. They were nice, but for a couple of women folk on the road alone needing a midnight pee break, secluded is not a term to be taken lightly.
3) Iowa landscape is like a patchwork quilt of greens and yellows, like something right out of a Grant Wood landscape. WY and SD, mostly dirt and grass and sage- not to take sage for granted though, I just prefer the fertileness of greens.
4) Radio signal. There were places we drove that had nothing. Seriously nothing. I'm not saying there was nothing "worth listening to" or "nothing I liked," there was nothing. Dead air and static. It added to the vast feeling of being alone out in the big sky and wild.
5)Cell phone signal. Verizon? Can you hear me now? Not in Wyoming.
6) I did not see a single Wal-Mart our entire trip. Perhaps this is a good thing?
7) Gas prices. Lo, we are blessed in Iowa. The least I paid for gas once crossing the state line was $3.16 cents and the most was $3.99. We drove 2,560 miles. Long story short, we made it home only because we brought nothing back for our friends but stories and pictures.
8) Food. I love fresh milk, berries, and cheese. Farmer's Market here I come......ok, maybe next paycheck since the Sinclair gas station chain of Wyoming has my food money for the week.
9) This is the heart of the matter: Dear husband. I missed him more than Lil'Bug did.

And finally, this is a neat picture of a power plant in Nebraska. It looked like a space city to me.

Beautiful View

"Mama? That moose....."

That moose. Let me tell you about that moose. We FINALLY see a moose. I pull over, get the camera out, and check the batteries. We get out and walk to the fence. I get excited and take a lot of pictures. This is one of them.

Lil'Bug stands there squinching her face, turning her head side to side, and then pulls on my shirt.
"Mama," she says, "Mama, that moose is not real."

"Yes, it is baby, it's just standing really still," I reply.

"No, Mama, that moose is fake," she insists.

Guess what. It was a fake moose. A stone or bronze life size sculpture at the entrance to a University. Blah.

Heard of Bison?

Yellowstone Bison have not interbred with cattle so they are a bit different from Buffalo/Bison in other places. They are HUGE and everywhere in the park.

Grand Tetons are, "this big!"

Heh. Please don't ask Lil'Bug what Grand Tetons means. She heard the ranger tell a group of tourists and then chanted the English translation for about 30 miles. She thinks its way funnier than it is, which is about how funny I thought it was when I was 14 and my siblings, cousins, and I did the same thing to my family. I know, karma.

Our lodgings in Indian Creek Campsite and Lil'Bug's first campfire s'more

45th Parallel, Mammoth Springs

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45th Parallel Bridge and Boiling River

"A sign near where the road crosses the Gardner River marks the 45th parallel of latitude. The 45th parallel is an imaginary line that circles the globe halfway between the equator and the North Pole. This same line passes through Minneapolis-St. Paul, Ottawa, Bordeaux, Venice, Belgrade, and the northern tip of the Japanese islands. It is, here in Yellowstone, roughly aligned with the Montana-Wyoming border."

Lil'Bug, Rox, and I took a dip after we set up camp. Wow. The current was a little scary and a lot both cold and hot, but what an amazing place to catch up with a good friend and let Lil'Bug splash and play. Unfortunately, I did not get any pictures, so the one in this post is from the Yellowstone website.

First Hike with my tyke......

This morning we went straight up a mountain side on a barely there deer trail. Lil'Bug used a hiking stick and ate Whortleberries. We encountered a marmot and people on horses. She was amazing. She took to it like a chipmunk on a log. She could keep going for hours if only I could. It was an amazing view too.

She also really wanted to wear hiking boots like BiL and Rox. :)

For Lil'Bug's friends who are tracking us: This is between Bozeman and Livingston, MT south of the Bridger Mountains and also near a Grizzly Bear Refuge. (Rox, if that's wrong, let me know!)

Famous Dead Guy Heads on a Mountain: 10$ please

We stopped and saw Mt. Rushmore, but they don't take credit cards and I didn't have cash. So, here is the free view from the road. Crazy horse was neat too, but again, they charged and there was not really a good place to take a free view picture.

One really neat thing was that Lil'Bug thought that the "hills" were volcanoes and she was really upset when she saw the scorched sections of controlled burn. She thought that the "'cano's" burned them and then she was scared. So anyone who thinks that a movie on the volcano at Pompiia was to advanced for her....ha.

Car picnic

Sometimes there were stretches of highway with no gas stations. We stopped every time we found one and topped off the tank just in case. Lil'Bug snacked while I gassed the car and fretted over the map. So, here is a cute picture of her; it was actually taken in Wyoming.

South Dakota Fun Part 2

Porter sculpture park. Neat idea, neat place. Cash only. I, however, would not recommend going alone with a two year old on the RV driving tour: 1) It's not big enough to warrant driving around 2) Getting in an old RV with a creepy old guy who runs the park to drive 100 feet? Um, common sense says, "NO." Big fat NO. It's cash only and I didn't have cash, but its worth the drive up just to peek. Next time will bring witnesses, um, I mean friends.

We saw many interesting things in South Dakota, including the horizon, Wyoming, and Canada. I know, North Dakota is between, but I couldn't really tell which was which. Also, the main road is pink. The local aggregrate is pink so, thus, so is the road. And, yes, I'm pretty sure there is only one road and there are only three gas stations (about 360 miles apart from each other since that's happens to be what my full tank will drive). The map lies.

South Dakota Fun

There is no posted speed limit in South Dakota. Why? Because the long stretch of barren highway goes on forever and, if you happen to be driving with the Earth's rotation (West), it doesn't matter if you go 90 miles an hour because (like this sentence) it will still take you 15 hours to travel 380 miles with the sun in your eyes and a screaming bored to tears tot....in other words, forever.

Wordless Wednesday: Yum

Packing the stroller?

We are eagerly getting ready for our road trip. Packing the car has been the hardest part; what to bring, what not to bring? I have always looked in amazement at parents who pack horse their strollers just for a playdate at the park. I tried that. All I ever really needed was a few diapers and wipes, maybe a change of clothes, and me (for food source). Most of the time, the diapers stayed in the car anyway, because it was easier to change her there. Maybe it was because I used a ring sling carrier that I didn't need a stroller BUT now Lil'Bug is a bit heavier and I do find myself using the off road stroller for zoo trips and longer outings.

Do I need to pack it for this trip? Here is why I think maybe not. I think she will enjoy our hikes more if we go slow, at her pace, and really explore. With this option, we won't go farther than she can manage and if she falls asleep, then I can sling her but we won't be 3 miles in. Also, many of the paths won't be stroller friendly. The path less traveled.

But, I can pack our lunch and we can spend a whole day in the woods if I stroller her up.

I can't decide yet. It does take up soooo much room in the car. I think we will pack all else and then see.

Top 10 People

Challenge: list 10 people that influenced your life for better or worse. How did they impact who you are today?

I'm going to only list the better. I have my reasons, but mostly- I'm still doing ok on the "no complaining" challenge!

1) My husband. Please see previous posts on Dear Husband's awesomeness. We married young and I am glad. He constantly pushes me to be a better person, gently hands me paint brushes, and hugs me when I need it. He also makes Pork Ribs that make me go weak in the knees and want to chew on bones like a cave lady.
2) My daughter. I did not have any real idea what motherhood would be like. I had visions of Pottery Barn nurseries dancing in my head. Lil'Bug shattered that in the best way possible. Everyday, I wake up to a laugh and smile. Her hugs are causing global warming. She is amazing.
3) Aunt Deedle. Seriously, without Deedle, I would not be a writer. She inspires me to kick conventions and go run a pink B&B in Galveston.
4) Professor Ming Lu- she is the professor I want to be. Students called her Dragon Lady; she was tough, challenging, and spent extra time with students she felt needed or wanted it. She spent a lot of time with me. It is from her that I have an open policy of revision.
5) Professor Wolf. Pushed me to rethink revision.
6) Student # 6, row 3 of my first Composition class. That homeschool kid that started it all.
7) My sister. I am a wiser, more careful woman because of how fragile she is.
8) My Uncle Don. He was a powerful, intelligent, and stubborn man. There were things he was told he could not do; not only did he do them, but I'm pretty sure he target shot at the people who told him he couldn't.... from his firetruck. *edited to add- Aunt Deedle just informed me that he might have also dropped water balloon bombs from his airplane on those pesky naysayers. See? I told you he was cool!)*
9) That girl I once knew, the one that made me reevaluate myself as a person and an artist.
10) Oprah- Not what you think. Oprah inspires me to work on my novels. Why? Because someday, maybe someday soon, I'll finish them and she will feature them on the Book Club. Then I will have lots of money. Then we can live like JD Salinger on thousands of acres in the woods. I know, a writer should be concerned with integrity and literature and whatnot. I say phooey, write me a check Oprah.

Holiday Rooooooooad

I am packing for a trip, a long long driving trip with a restless tot. We will be without toilet for a week at the old mansion, so family meeting was called and decision was made for the two women folk to take off into the great blue yonder: Montana via Wyoming.

My favorite family vacation as a child was Yellowstone National Park with my favorite cousins. We made lots of good memories, granted that much of it was funnier than Chevy Chase's famous movie vacations.

The other part that feeds my anticipation is that I grew up with the Rockies always in view to the West, an anchor to the horizon. I always hold a special place for the Rocky Mountain Range in my heart, and there is no comparison to the overwhelming greatness I feel when driving into them on man made cut roads. So Montana, here we come!

Oh, wait. It's not that simple. I have to get the car checked, packed, and ready; the kid checked, packed, and ready; and my students/online classroom checked, packed, and ready. All this in three days. Whew. Is there room for me in the car? I hope so, I'm driving!

Father's Day at the Farm

He's an amazing guy. Here's the list: he can and does play almost every instrument by ear and often; he's a great cook, gardener, conversationalist, and friend; he's an "awesome" father; quite handy, if not good with shapes then good at faking it!; and most of all....he's my best friend and Lil'Bug's awesome Dad.
I could list more things that he's good at or even his Kingdom of Loathing stats, but none really speak
more of his greatness than the photos I have provided.

This Father's Day he wanted to take Lil'Bug to the local farm museum. As we toured the different era farms she gave us her input:
1700's farm- "I will not live here. I don't like tents outside."
1840's farm- "Purple Baby doesn't like it here. Mama, it's too hot."
1900's farm- "This is Ok. Where is the farm cat?"


I'm not sure what she was thinking, but her responses were more real estate oriented than we intended the family outing to be. She did get to pet a lamb, a dairy cow, a horse, and a thistle. The purple thistle was by far her favorite.

My bugs, my bugs, my bugs!

So at another one of our lively family discussions, (which is not code for "argument that I won", btw) this idea was put out for ponder: Why are we smushing cabbage caterpillars and getting excited about the pretty yellow and black caterpillar to the point of checking on it everyday? They both essentially do the same thing, right? Short answer is this- the cabbage caterpillars turn into cabbage moths and they are both decimating my crop and the pretty bug will turn into a monarch butterfly and is only and exclusively munching on milkweed. I don't eat milkweed, she can have it. They both play a part in the balance of our garden, even if it seems that the only benefit is that we are communing with our plants each day to de-bug them without chemicals.

The picture on the right is of a clutch of lacewing eggs. Neat. These are good bugs- very, very good bugs. I grew up calling lacewings "Mosquito Hawks"- they eat mosquitoes, mosquito larvae, and lots of other pesties.

Not complaining for 30 days?!

Seriously, some of my mama friends are trying this out: not complaining or gossiping for thirty days. What a challenge.

I'd like to think of myself as an optimist, you know- someone who doesn't complain, but a friend once pointed out that I cross the line into "the worst kind of idealist" ie, I set impossible goals and sometimes ignore reality. On the other hand, Napoleon did not conquer most of the European world by thinking, "Maybe I'm not being realistic...." Anyway, maybe I do complain a lot, even if it's masked in amusing (hey, I think they are!) stories about our neighbor kids, neighbor adults, or local politics- it's still complaining.

I've decide to step up to the plate and support their efforts by creating a weekly gratitudes list too:
1) I am grateful that I married young and to the most amazing man, we've spent almost 1/2 our lives together and its only getting better.
2) My daughter is the happiest child and funny too. I am glad that her first words used in context were "Giggle giggle/ tickle tickle" and "quack". (Hey, that's a kids book!)
3) We live in a really cool house. I am enjoying our time here but I am happy we are moving.
4) The carrot cake I made this week was awesome (the frosting is not included in that statement).
5) I have the loveliest friends and some have wonderful children who are friends with my wonderful child.
6) I rock at Catch Phrase.
7) I have a tomato on the plant! Whoo hoo!

I'm sure that I will still be grateful for all of the above next week too. I'm grateful for that.

The hungry caterpillar

This evening I was weeding the perennial bed that I have terribly neglected this Spring. I was delighted to find a pumpkin plant! Heh. I threw out random seeds of various squash plants here and there and gave Lil'Bug some to "plant." I was examining it with dear husband to identify which yummy squash was going to grow and we found this lovely little caterpillar. I wanted to bring him in and feed him, but dear husband made a convincing argument for it to stay AND I'm not allowed to weed that bed anymore. I might have already removed its food source, which is not pumpkin. I know what kind this one is, do you?

My Sparklies and Butterflies

I caught myself in the midst of artistic expression while picking out materials for my new bag- I caught myself trying really hard to choose muted olives and maroons BUT my eyes and heart kept being drawn to the purple butterflies. I *love* them. They remind me of this perfect day 14 or so years ago when my hair was that purple and my favorite shirt had all those blues and I had stars and sparklies in my eyes (butterflies in my stomach, heart, whatever) when I looked at my now husband. It was a good day.

My very good friend made this bag just for me. It fits my mactop and its accoutrement and a spare set of bottoms for Lil'Bug AND my wallet and such. If I leave my mactop out, it fits lunch, sunscreen, and a bottle of water wrapped in new outfit for the hippopotamus (Lil'Bug if she finds a mud puddle at the park, yo). It's awesome. It makes me smile every time I look at it. Can a bag do that?

Plastic and what I refuse to use it for

I can accept plastic houses, fake plants, toys, replacement body parts, windows, nails (both finger and construction), curtains, cars, playground bedding, tools.....this list goes on. There are lots of great uses for plastic and, recycled or not, it's a bizillion dollar industry. I have come to terms with it's pervasiveness in my life (had to with Lil'Bug's silicon "binky") BUT I still get nervous, anxious, and downright astonished when food comes with instructions to put it in the 425 degree OVEN in a freakin' plastic bag. I can't bring myself to do it, or even look in the oven when dearest husband takes over cooking duties. I can't do it because plastic should and does melt and/or catch fire and the thinner the plastic the more fragile it is- right? Then by logic plastic bags should not go in the 425 degree oven, but they do and we even have a box of "baking bags" in our pantry.

It's just not right.

It's not easy being green

Dear husband found this awesome spider in our front yard. It's bright green and likes to drop a web and swing three inches below his hand like a little trapeze artist. Any idea what kind it is? I know its a bad picture, but I couldn't find a better picture online (since I don't know what kind it is) and the little bugger wouldn't sit still.

We find a lot of bugs, snakes, and other creepy crawlies. My husband and child both just love to pick them up and look at them.

Bee Charmers, they are. I can't wait to have actual bees. In fact, I can't wait to have an actual farm. Lil'Bug has already shown an affinity and kindness towards animals, a calmness that I hope she keeps as she grows up. Not that she's all that calm most of the time!

*edited to add* We have submitted the pictures to whatsthatbug.com. I do not think it is a lynx spider, but I have no idea what it is!

Scattergories

MamaB: tagged me with this fun little meme :)

The game is SCATTERGORIES…it’s harder than it looks! Here are the rules: Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following. They MUST be real places, names, things…NOTHING made up! If you can’t think of anything, skip it. Try to use different answers if the person before you had the same 1st initial. You CAN’T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

Your Name: D. (MamaPodkayne)

1. Famous Singer/Band: Dietaphobia

2. 4 letter word: Deep

3. Street: Division

4. Color: Deep Sea

5. Gifts/Presents: Drawings

6. Vehicle: Dodge Ram

7. Things in a Souvenir Shop: Divining Rod

8. Boy Name: David

9. Girl Name: Diana

10. Movie Title: Dead Poets Society

11. Drink: Dr. Pepper

12. Occupation: Doctor of Philospohy

13. Celebrity: Dr. Dre

14. Magazine: DIY

15. U.S. City: Denver

16. Pro Sports Teams: Denver Nuggets

18. Reason for Being Late for Work: Dentist Appointment gone awry

19. Something You Throw Away: Dead Starlings

20. Things You Shout: "Dead Starlings! Oh No! Not AGAIN!"

21. Cartoon Character: Dopey

Who I am tagging: Wheelchair Mama

Cultural Appropriation

We had a lively family discussion about people appropriating other's cultural practices because they think they are "cool" or "neat." Am I way too sensitive about fake Cajun things: burnt chicken being passed off as edible and labeled "blackened" AND SNL's Cajun Man just isn't funny to me, he's obnoxious AND MARDI GRAS means FAT TUESDAY and can NOT NOT NOT happen on a Saturday!!!!!!???? On the other hand, while the subtleties are lost, many parts of the cultural practices and knowledge live on because of the common interpretation. Agh. Now I'm slipping into professor mode to over-analyze what bugs me. And bugs me it does. I don't want Lil'Bug to think those cheap mocking imitations are her heritage.

Perhaps the time for authenticity in a culture that really hasn't existed for my generation has passed and all we have is what has been melted into the pot? Maybe its been my physical removal from the geographic area? But always, when I hear the longing voice singing for Jolie Blonde or hear the distinct wind of a fiddle that reminds me of the old 45's my Popo used to play, or even the particular smell after a rain that is exactly like Christmas at Momo's, I long for something that I cannot hold on to. Something that feels like home in a way that where I am geographically never will. Perhaps this is why I am overreacting about appropriation.

Night of the Living Ladybug

We let loose the bag o' bugs last night. It was awesome and I highly recommend it as a learning experience for little ones. They were lovely little bugs, very polite, and quite grateful for the meal we shared with them. This morning, they were contentedly sleeping nestled under the pepper foliage, full bellies, dreaming of aphids. Ah, perhaps I am personifying them a bit, but they certainly looked happy in their new home.