I Heart Homeschooling.

Homeschooling is amazing. It brings you these incredible days where you are sure you are a failure one minute, and the next minute you gaze in wonder at the intelligence of your children.

Our school day started out with math (which was surprisingly not painful, considering The Oldest is learning to find common denominators.) Then came English. The Oldest wrote me four synopses about things such as The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere and the parable of the Good Samaritan. Littlest One was doing the same thing she always does: phonics charts, reading from a beginning reader, and then copy work. In two years, she still does not remember that N-E-W spells "new". Nor did she remember the words "would", "oh", or "unto". It was a painful lesson. The kind that convinces you, as a homeshooling mother, that your child will still not be reading when she is entering high school. (Because homeschooling mothers are known for putting undo pressure on themselves, and then buckling under said pressure. It's what we do. We're really good at it.)

But then, life happens. Discussions happen. Over lunch, Galileo's experiment at the leaning tower of Pisa came up. I remember hearing about that in the 8th grade. My teacher telling us that, if we were allowed to climb up onto the roof and drop a bowling ball and a marble, that they would land at the same time. I never did believe him.

Well, we didn't have a bowling ball, but we had a huge bouncy ball and a marble. So we dropped them from the deck, two stories above the ground below, and Littlest One kept watch. Indeed, they did both land at the same time.

From there, I thought I'd be all awesome and explain gravity and terminal velocity. Except that at about that moment, Littlest One (who is SIX!) piped up. "Eventually, everything will go as fast as it can go, and it won't go any faster."

And there's terminal velocity, in six year old terms.

"The balls landed at the same time because they're the same shape. So they push the air away the same."

Right.

So what would happen if I dropped a feather and a hammer?

"They wouldn't be the same, 'cuz they're shaped different. The feather makes more friction."

Seriously? I had to look it up. She was right.

"What would happen if I dropped a feather and a hammer and I was standing on the moon?" (The school book told me to ask that. Never would've occurred to me otherwise.)

"They'd fall the same. 'Cuz there isn't any air on the moon, so there's no friction."

I had to look that up, too. How on earth did she learn that? Her sister read something about it in a National Geographic magazine and told her about it. I Googled the video of the Apollo 15 astronaut demonstrating it. They were fascinated.

Why am I doing the teaching here? Clearly, the ten year old is more capable. Granted, I can claim having taught them about friction. We had an awesome time with that one!

Later tonight, she explained the process of amputating a horse's leg due to infection from a dog bite, and then creating a prosthetic leg and teaching it how to walk again.

Um, seriously? Yeah, it was in a book her sister read to her, one Grammy gave her for Christmas. So they were playing "amputated horse leg" in the living room. Because that's what homeschoolers do for fun.

This morning at breakfast, we used the computer to take a virtual tour of the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art. (We just finished reading aloud the Newbery award winner From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler so it fit in nicely.) Using the mouse to move through the museum, The Oldest pipes up, "Look! There's a model of Brunellesci's dome!" Ehhh... huh? She looks at me like I might be stupid. "Brunellesci. The Renaissance. Remember?" Uh... yeah, no. But apparently I read something about that to her once. Glad to know it stuck.

Homeschool is incredible. Stressful, and difficult, but incredible. They spend so much time delving into subjects that interest them, and then sharing those subjects with one another, playing them and discussing them and pondering them. The teaching that I do hardly touches the amount of learning that they do, through each of those mediums.

So about that trouble with reading? I'm pretty sure it'll come. Some day there will be a book that details the discoveries of some great inventor or scientist, and she's going to be desperate to know what it says, and she's going to read it. The hardest part of homeschooling is letting go of the standards and goals you've got in your mind. Because you can set as many standards as your heart desires, but your kids aren't going to meet them the way you planned for them to. They'll get there in their time, taking their route, and achieving so much more along the way than you ever could have even imagined.

Volunteer Work: Farm style

Sometimes, being homeschoolers offers us some amazing opportunities.

 

This weekend, we took a volunteer job at a local living history museum, demonstrating some of the heritage arts that we do at home. We dressed in costume and sat on the porch of a 100 year old bunk house, where we showed knitting, crocheting, embroidery, and finger knitting.

It was an incredible opportunity for Two Little Girls. For as much time as they spend doing these things as a regular part of life, it was fantastic for them to hear the “oohs” and the “ahhs” of ‘city folk’ as they watched such young girls doing them. For me to be knitting wasn’t anything special. But for folks – kids and adults alike – to see my six and ten year old daughters proficiently creating beautiful, useful works of art was inspirational to some.

 

The girls sat with other kids as they came by and taught them the basics of their skills – Littlest One taught many a young girl to knit a chain by weaving yarn on her fingers, and sent each one away with a small ball of yarn to practice with. The satisfaction she got from sharing her skill equaled the satisfaction of the children learning it.

We taught a group of girl scouts how to knit and crochet, patiently demonstrating and holding their hands as they fumbled through the stitches. A couple were so eager to learn that they sat with us for nearly half an hour, carefully making stitch after stitch across rows. It’s neat to think they may go home with a desire to learn a lifelong skill that was nearly lost to antiquity for a few generations.

When they tired of sitting and doing their needlework, Two Little Girls took turns churning butter from fresh local cream and cleaning apples to be pressed into cider for the many visitors. No matter what they were doing, watching them brought smiles to many faces. To see some of the elderly women that passed through smile so big at my sweet girls having so much fun doing what most would consider work warmed my heart. 

And upon the end of our day, when The Oldest took my hand and swung my arm as she skipped along in her pinafore and bonnet, and she said, “This was such a special day!” That made it all worth the effort we put into it. I love when my girls are able to take pride in this (somewhat crazy) life we live. Not every kid gets to do the things they do here, and while it doesn’t always seem special to them, times like this help them realize they get to experience a lot of things most kids never get to.

The museum will close up soon for the winter, but we hope to continue volunteering our time there next year, sharing the skills we use every day with kids who don’t get to see them often. 

4-H: A Family Affair

Oldest One's first 4-H riding meeting turned into a family affair yesterday.

At the rodeo grounds in the Tiny Little Town, all the little girls brought their horses for a lesson and some fun. Parents were encouraged to bring their own horses, and the leader brought along a couple of her own horses that Andrew and I got to ride. Even Grammy came up from the Big City with her horse, Roxy. If there's one thing that's not lacking in Oldest One's horse adventures, it's family involvement.

Here's my Oldest One with Bandit.


All went well with him and she was having a great time, until she took him to the far side of the arena by herself. When he looked over and realized all his friends were back at the gate, he took off running back toward them. Scared poor Oldest half to death, though to look at her you wouldn't have known it. She looked so calm and was seated so nicely as he loped across the arena. When he finally stopped, she started bawling. "I was wrong. I don't like 4-H. I don't like horses. Horses are scary. I don't want to do this any more."

Her leader - who seems to know exactly what to say to a scared kid - patiently took her around for awhile, talked to her, and calmed her down.

Ten minutes later, when they came back, Oldest patted Bandit on the neck and said, "I guess I was lying about not liking 4-H." And for the rest of the afternoon, all she could talk about was how much fun it was to lope.

Hubby rode Bertha, the 4-H leader's draft horse that she uses primarily for driving.

Apparently she hadn't been ridden much in the past year and was feeling a bit frisky. He had his own adventure when Bertha decided to rear up and dance around a little bit while he rode her. No big thing though, he handled it like a pro. I imagine if he'd had the opportunity to grow up with horses, he'd be quite the horseman now - he's got such a calm, patient, confident manner about him that horses would relate so well to.

Grammy's horse behaved perfectly, and Littlest One rode double with her.

It won't be long until Littlest needs a horse or pony of her own - you put her up on one, and I think she'd stay all day if you let her. She wasn't ready to get down when Grammy was ready to quit.

And yes, even I got on a horse. It'd been fourteen years since I got bucked off my own horse as a teen. I never did get back on after that. For all that I was nervous, it sure did feel good to be back on a horse again.


So an afternoon of family horseback riding - it made us all want our own horses even more desperately. We spent the evening talking about long trail rides together, camping in places only horses can get us, and how we're going to figure as much riding as possible into our already too-busy schedules.

The best part - we get to do this every week! I'm so glad we she joined 4-H. :-)

A Big Little Adventure

"Mom, we're going adventuring."

It was the sort of adventure that made them feel like they were very far away, but I could still see them from the kitchen window while I was cooking dinner. It was an adventure to the far side of the hay meadow.

They tromped through the melting snow - Littlest One always trying to hard to keep up with the Big Adventurer.


They stopped to watch the water flowing downhill along the fence line. It's amazing how fascinating a little spring runoff can be to Two Little Girls.



And after as much exploring as cold little noses and hands could handle, they headed back home to tell me all about their Adventure.


Littlest One informed me that there was a Really Big River (trickle of water) that would soon form a Gigantic Canyon on the far side of the field. (We'd been discussing erosion a few days earlier.) I asked how long it would take before the Gigantic Canyon was formed. "A really, really long time," she explained, with wide eyes. "Probably next week."

Oldest one told me about the footprints she saw. "They were probably skunk... but maybe they were cougar prints!" (There are, in fact, occasional mountain lions here, and she knows it. She's desperate to see one... or at least scare Littlest One.)

As for me, I can't tell you the pleasure it gave me to get soup simmering on the stove and watch out the window as my Two Little Girls explored and played together, getting to know their new world.

It's Official.

On a drive out in the country one day, I sighed aloud and said, "I want to be a farmer."
And Chloe sighed and replied, "I want to be a farmer's daughter."

I wish I could tell you all the time we've spent driving around in the country, daydreaming about owning our own farm. It's a dream we all hold dearly.

And, as Jiminy Cricket once said, "If you don't have a dream, how can you have a dream come true?"

Our dream come true:

It's more than we'd dreamed of, honestly. A lot more.

Complete with a barn - and a red one, at that.
This picture is out the window above the front door - not a bad view, eh?
I only wish there were words to describe how excited I am as we venture into this new chapter in our lives. Thrilled, humbled, ecstatic, anxious. But none of them can completely describe the feeling.

It's official: we're farmers now.

Homeschool: Long Division

Homeschool math, in the style of The Oldest.

6,408 / 3

"Six thousand four hundred eight divided by three. Three goes into six two times. Two times three is six, and six minus six is Look, I see a starling! But starlings aren't usually around 'til spring. I wonder where his family is? Six minus six is zero, bring down the four. Three goes into four one time. I wonder if Tchaikovsky wrote The Nutcracker or Swan Lake first? Four minus three is one, bring down the zero. What are we having for dinner tonight? Ten divided by three is three, three times three is nine, subtract and get one, bring down the How come it didn't snow last night? It's cloudy today, maybe it will snow tonight instead. Bring down the eight, eighteen divided by three is six, six times three is eighteen, subtract and What time is Cora's dance class today? Subtract and get zero, so no remainder. So 6,408 divided by 3 is 2,136."

Knitting Bits: Yarn Shopping with the Oldest

With the cooler weather we've been having, I've been struggling with my desire to ignore the garden and knit instead. I gave in. The garden is in sad disarray as I sit cheerfully in the shade and knit to my heart's content.

I took Chloe yarn shopping for her winter sweater today. I learned a few years ago, after I spent two weeks knitting an adorable sweater for her, that she is not the type of girl to overlook comfort for the sake of cuteness. It was a bit scratchy, that cute little sweater, and so I had to beg her and bribe her every time I put it on her. She wants a sweater that is loose fitting, with sleeves long enough to cover her hands, a hood, and the softest yarn one could possibly find.

So we spent half an hour scouring the yarn aisles at Hobby Lobby this afternoon. We were after something worsted weight, and purple... unless she changed her mind on the color once we got there. After years of watching me in a yarn store, she's mastered the art of fondling yarn. She walks along, hands out, squeezing skein after skein of purple yarn. If one feels like it may be soft enough, it must endure the next test: she rubs it on the inside of her forearm, and then on her cheek. That's enough to make most of the yarn go right back into the bin. Of all the yarn varieties that Hobby Lobby had to offer, only two passed the cheek-rubbing test. And of those, only one had a shade of purple she thought was suitable.

And so I am now knitting a top-down raglan cardigan out of plum-colored velveteen plush yarn. Top-down allows me to make the sleeves just the right length, and I've altered the pattern to include a hood. No lace, no cables, not even appliqued flowers - "just plain", said my Little Girl who is clearly growing up. I did convince her to let me use mismatched antique buttons down the front, because "just plain" isn't in my vocabulary.

I'm happy to be knitting again. :-)

Forts and Hide-outs

The difference between a three year old and an eight year old:

When a three year old builds a fort, she posts a sign that she insists says, "Welcome In!" She walks around the house inviting (begging) anyone and everyone to come into her fort.

When an eight year old builds a fort, she posts a sign on it that says, "Secret Hide Out. No one allowed. Espeshily Sisters."

Potting Up

I love listening to my daughters talk to the seedlings in the basement. They talk to our baby plants the way most people would talk to a baby human, all high-pitched and squeaking and cooing.


"Oh, hello there little baby plant. How are you doing today? Oh look at you, getting so big and strong!"


"I'm going to give you a new home today, little tomato plant, because you are soooo big now."



"Here you go. This is your new home. Are you cozy in there? Such a good little tomato plant you are."



"Now, hold very very still, and I'm going to give you more soil, so your roots can grow bigger and stronger. There you go, now you're all set. Good little tomato plant, you keep growing now, okay? And some day we will put you in our garden and you can see what it's like to live outside like a big, grown-up tomato plant. Won't that be exciting, little tomato plant?"

If you give a kid some puffy paint...

Oh man, what a slacker I've been! My poor, neglected blog. I keep thinking I'll get around to catching up, posting all the millions of things I think about every day to blog about, and then I get busy, and tired, and busier, and more tired, and then I give up.

So I'm not going to try to catch up, because that will never happen. I'll just jump in where we are and try to write more often!

Today's subject: Kiddie Craft Lessons

There are two distinct ways to teach kids art: You can instruct them on exactly how to make something, giving them a specific design to follow and attempt to re-create. Or you can give them a pile of supplies and set them free. Both have their uses. Most of my craft classes fall somewhere in between.

Since we've taken up dance classes (Cora ballet, Chloe jazz, and tap for me) I thought it would be useful to have dance bags we can keep by the door so we can grab them on our way out. We haven't done much in the way of fabric and textile art, and I still recall the true love I had for puffy paints as a small girl. I gave each girl a set of supplies: two stencils, pink and purple fabric paint, silver and white puffy paint, the letters to spell "DANCE", and a canvas bag to put it all on.

Puffy paint is a funny thing. It's really hard to learn the right amount of pressure and the speed with which you lay it down. Especially if you're eight.



So it's a little (lot) gloppy. She's pretty happy with it. I did have to confiscate the puffy paint before it got too out of hand.

Littlest One is my perfectionist. She wants to know how to do it, where to put it, wants help if she feels like she can't do something quite right. From one perfectionist to another, there's a long, hard road ahead of her if she doesn't let up a little bit.



The end result looks... well, like something I'd make. But she had a fabulous time filling in the stencils. :o)

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Completely unrelated, but I realized how much I love looking back at my Chloe-isms, and now I have Cora-isms too, and I've done a terrible job of recording them. So here are a few:

When I was doing double pull-backs in my tap class (and struggling with them!) Chloe told me, "Mom, um, you kind of look like a flumpy horse." Flumpy? Thanks, honey.

Also from Chloe, while trying to choke down cream of asparagus soup: "This soup is not cooperating with my taste buds."

Me: Cora, did you just splatter soup on the table? Cora: No, I splattered soup at my sister.

Cora, after watching Chloe's dance class: "I wished I could jump over hoopa-loops, too."

Ahh how I love the funny bits my kids come up with. Wish I could record them all!

Ew. Just. Ew.

I distinctly remember the very worst assignment I ever received in grade school. In the sixth grade, every student was required to turn in a bug collection at the end of the year - the magnum opus of sixth grade science.

I was an over-achiever. (Clearly, not much has changed.) I couldn't receive a grade lower than an A. I did the work, but I still remember vividly the torture I endured. Anyone who knows me is aware of my ridiculous fear of bugs. I run, I scream, I stomp, I spray an entire can of bug spray at them. I've gotten better in the years since I've started gardening, but bugs are still definitely not my favorite thing.

Quite the opposite for my darling eldest daughter. "See Mom? Even someone who's afraid of bugs like you are can raise a kid who is courageous and brave!" Gee, thanks, kiddo.



It all started when our Really Cool Neighbor brought over a dead dragonfly he found while out hiking. We bought some foam core, some straight pins, and rustled up some "bug collecting gear" - a little jar of alcohol, a couple of pairs of tweezers, and a magnifying glass.



The process is simple - drown the bug in alcohol, then lay it out on the board and impale it with a straight pin. I hate bugs. I find this process somewhat appealing. It's the actually acquiring the bug part that's a little hard for me to face. Thankfully, I'm no longer in the sixth grade, and I can make my kid do it herself, like my mama made me.

The funny thing is, my kid's only in second grade, and she's doing this solely because she wants to.

This monster of a spider has been hanging out in the middle of my green beans for several days now. I've been afraid to pick beans, but not any more. My crazy kid just scooped him right into the alcohol, and he was dead as a doornail in seconds. I about screamed just watching her get him, though!

We found this yellow jacket already drowned in the wading pool - a prime spot for finding stinging insects that won't cause harm.


We'll be on the look out for more cool bugs now - fall seems to be a great time to find them. The nice thing about homeschool is that she doesn't have to be done when the school year is over, she can just keep on going with it as long as the creepy crawlies interest her.

And meanwhile, I'll try get creeped out at the thought of all the dead bugs on a shelf in my basement.

Kid's Gardening - Creative Play

Garden bits make for good creative play.

Giant kohlrabi leaves turn little girls into flying pegasus and dragons...



Onion flower stalks are prettier than Lincoln Logs, and make a nice addition to a town built of mushroom caps and flower buds.



They harvested some of their own carrots and lettuce, then used plastic kitchenware from the playhouse to make a salad and have a picnic.

The carrots have been a big hit - neither of them really bothered with thinning or weeding them, so they're getting all kinds of funky shapes that result in lots of giggles.



The cabbageworms we saved in a jar for a science project have now built cocoons - we have three of them. It's really a shame those pretty little butterflies are so darn destructive.



I started pulling the weeds (grass) out of their garden the other night, since it was threatening to encroach on my own garden. Chloe came over, visibly upset, and said, "Mom, no! I'm growing hay for my imaginary horse!" We tied up the lengths of grass into little stands like you would with wheat, then placed them near where the horse was tied up. He enjoyed the snack, she assured me.



There is a pile of carrots in my refrigerator, some broken off half way down, others that grew only an inch, and a few that really turned out pretty good. Chloe asked if I would cook them with brown sugar and butter. There's something neat about my child growing her vegetables and then asking to have them for lunch. Of course I'll do it that way.

Buffalo

I was brushing Chloe's hair the other night, and I put some leave-in conditioner in. As I was working in the conditioner she asked me, "Mom, how come you don't use buffalo any more?"

I was confused. "Um, buffalo? I've never used buffalo in your hair before, darlin'. I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Yes you have," she said. "You used to use it when I was little."

I assured her that she must have misunderstood what I was saying, because I knew of no such thing.... she told me, "It came in a long skinny can, and when you squeezed it, stuff like shaving cream came out."

"Oh!" I said. "You mean mousse!"

:o) Kids are funny

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We're packing and cleaning and trying to be ready to leave at four in the morning for Montana De Oro State Park on the central coast of California. I don't imagine I'll have internet access, so everyone have a great week, and I'll be back to write about our adventure next weekend!

Isms.

From Chloe:

"Hey Mom, when you were a kid and you had dogs, did they have wooden dog toys to play with?"

She's under the impression that plastic had not been invented yet when I was a kid. Because the 1980's was a "really, really, really long time ago."

---

From Cora (when she saw me cleaning my ears with a q-tip):

"You clean your ears? You have eye boogers in your ears?"

"No honey, not eye boogers."

"Oh. You have dirt in your ears?"

"I guess, kind of."

"Oh. You been playin' in the sand box?"

Heh.

"Nope, not lately."

"Oh. There ear boogers in your ears?"

Children are so charming.

We will forever call ear wax "ear boogers" in our house now, because that's just kinda funny.

The start of the garden.

I have a dirt under my fingernails and there are muddy footprints tracked all through my kitchen. It was a good day.

It was totally random, not at all intentional, but on today, March first (which my seven year old declares the first day of spring, "because March means spring, Mom,) we got the garden ready for the season, cleaned up, straightened out, and planted the first seeds.

Ah, what a thrilling thing it is, looking across the freshly tilled plot that will (hopefully) provide us with good things to eat in only a couple of months. It makes my heart go pitter-patter, I tell you, just knowing what's in store.

My fantastic, devoted, hard-working and creative husband built me two raised beds for the front yard, where I planted approximately 140 pea seeds. I say I - I mean we. The girls helped, and so at the south end of the beds, there may be a lot more pea plants than ought to be in one place, because toddlers are like that. But it's alright - the peas are in!

The garlic's coming up more and more each day - at least forty sprouts now. I'm not as worried as I was - forty or fifty heads of garlic should get us through the year. More than that will be kept on hand for medicinal reasons, and handed out to family and friends.

To the Littlest One's utmost delight, there are "Baby flowers, Mom! Look! Baby flowers right there!" Tulips and daffodils have poked their cheerful green leaves above the soil. Apparently they believed me when I told them spring was coming.

There is one lonely little lettuce plant sprouted in the cold frame - it was planted last fall and nothing ever happened. I gave the poor thing some water, it was obviously parched. Maybe the extra drink will convince some more seeds to sprout in there, after having hibernated all winter.

I'm a geek. But if you're reading my blog, you might very well be a geek too. Just nod and smile, and carry on.

Happy Valentine's Day :o)

Remember when...

After dinner last night - when it was pitch dark at 6:00, Chloe asked me, "Mom, do you remember a long time ago when we could go outside after dinner and play? And I could watch the sun set while I played on the swings, and it was really pretty?"

Yep, we're ready for spring.

Uh, Mom?

She's reading a book about a French family.

"Uh, Mom? This guy's name is Jackass."

"What?! Lemme see that.....
No, honey, that doesn't say Jackass. It says 'Jacques.'"

Carrots!

We harvested a pound of carrots tonight. Is it really worth it - the work it takes to plant the seeds, tend them carefully as they germinate, thin them, water them every night for three months, and then dig them tenderly from the soil? Carrots only cost .50 a pound on average.

Of COURSE it's worth it! Between the squeals of delight at the giant orange roots (my own squeals, mind you, not the children) the "treasure hunt" feel of picking out only the best, and watching my children fight over who got to eat the first one (still covered in dirt, and not rinsed before the first bite) it was absolutely worth the work.

Carrots aren't easy. They are awful to sprout, especially in our heat. They take an enormous amount of patience (which I don't possess) and they don't get nearly as big as the store-bought ones. (the ones in the photo are half-longs, they are supposed to be squat-looking.)

Next year, with some experience under my belt, I should be able to get a decent harvest. As it stands, we'll have this pound and maybe two more. But it was fun. Digging root crops is a very satisfying pastime.

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Today was my mom's birthday. We found her this frame/chalk board that was perfect. Such a neat little "sit on the shelf and collect dust" kind of thing that she loves to decorate with.

And as I was wrapping it, searching for some twine to tie it up, Cora picked it up, dropped it, and broke it into three pieces. i was so sad. She put her face down on the floor and kept saying "Shorry. Shorry. Break. Shorry." She felt terrible. So instead, all Grammy got was a visit from her daughter and granddaughters (and a picture frame Chloe made from popsicle sticks, acrylic paint, wood glue and silk flowers.) Poor Grammy. And poor Cora. It made for a rough morning.

We made up for it by playing with Barbies ALL afternoon - at first with Mommy, and then they just played by themselves. For three hours. THREE HOURS of entertaining themselves, no arguing, no fighting, no needing snacks or fresh diapers or juice or attention. It was FABULOUS.

What started out pretty awful ended pretty great. Love days like that. :o)

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I've been told a few times lately that my blogging is missed. Makes me feel loved. ;o) I'll try- finding time to do anything with a toddler is pretty tough though!

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Misc. Chloe-ism: "I have something kinky in my pants." :o)

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I was out working in the garden this evening after Cora was in bed when Chloe came out. I was in my 'zone' - just focusing on my plants, enjoying the peace of gardening, and not really listening to Miss Chatterbox as she explored the area near the water spicket.

"Mom! I found a slug!"

"Mmm. That's nice, honey, but I don't think we have slugs here. I've never seen one before."

"Mom! There's more! There's a whole HERD of slugs!"

"Uh huh. That's great, kiddo." I finished pulling out all of the never-ending crab grass around my tomatoes and sighed with satisfaction.

Chloe came over about then and said, "See? It really is a slug! Isn't it adorable?"

And it was. It was really a slug. She took me to where she found it. She wasn't kidding, there really was a whole herd of them - dozens, crawling all around the moist area where the hose is connected.

"Ugh!" I exclaimed. "I'll pay you five cents for every slug you can catch. Slugs are a gardener's worst nightmare."

"These aren't my worst nightmare, Mom. This is my dream come true!"

She proceeded to put eight or ten of them into one of her bug barns. Then she took them out, a couple at a time... to pet them. She had slug races on our picnic table, squeeing with glee at just how darn cute she thought those slugs were.

Boy, I sure hope she thinks squash bugs and potato beetles are so cute, 'cuz I'm gonna need someone to pick those off my plants before long. :o)

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We had a lovely couple of days with Andrew off work. Last night we brought out the fire pit after the girls were in bed, lit it up, and sat watching the fire and drinking a little bit more than normal. We sat out there drinking beers and doing a couple of shots of whiskey and talked until nearly eleven o'clock. It was splendid. The weather has been beautiful, not too hot, and it was just... really, really nice.

This morning we stayed in bed until almost 9:00. I can't remember the last time I stayed in bed past six, so that was a real treat for me. The girls were up, they'd come crawl into bed and snuggle for a bit then run off to play - they were really good. It sure was nice just to be lazy. I'm not good at being lazy, usually. Definitely gonna have to do that more often.

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We worked on planning our vacation next month. Andrew's got 12 days off work and we're driving up to northern Montana to go camping with his sister and her new husband, who are driving down from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada. I'm really looking forward to visiting with them (especially N - I miss her so much!) and letting the girls spend time with her too. We're taking a longer route up there and will spend a day driving through a corner of Yellowstone and then across the Beartooth Highway into Montana. We'll camp at the end of that highway which thrills me, it's a place I've wanted to see for a few years now, since I first read about it. They say it's the most beautiful road in the country.