I have always been a fan of stockpiling children's clothes, buying them at thrift stores and storing them in rubbermaid bins. Every 6 months or so I pull it all out and carry the "new" clothes upstairs to swap out with the too cold/too hot/too small clothes currently occupying dresser space. However, my bins have become a mess with size 12 stuff in with baby items and girl clothes in with boy stuff. Yesterday I discovered 10 pairs of pants that can fit Will in various locations. This was an expensive mistake, but I can take comfort knowing that he will wear some of them out, leaving the rest for Charlie and Timmy to grow into.
Last week I re-read The Tightwad Gazette III, a collection of articles from Amy Dacyczyn's newsletter. While some of the information is dated, I found her clothing organizing system to be the solution to my problem. The mother of 6, Amy made the same mistakes I did until she created a card for each child with the items needed down one side and the sizes across the top. She put a check mark for each item of clothing in its proper spot. This method allows her to see how many shirts/pants/coats are already in storage in each size. Since I just sorted out the winter gear for my brood now is the perfect opportunity to make up these cards for stocking up in the future.
1 day update: I took 2 hours to inventory all the boy's clothes. Now I just have to put the information onto cards. Luckily I only have to do this once, all that sorting wore me out. To recover I had to lie down with a bag of m&ms and a sudoku puzzle book for 45 minutes.
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
back to civilization
While I much, much prefer to be in Maine (despite the weather forecast for snow flurries tonight), it is nice to be back to a house with high speed internet. Having to drag 5 kids up to the library 12 miles away every week or so to post on their very weak and sporadic wi-fi was not the highlight of my summer vacation. It was spending time in the beauty of woods, fields, open space, and the stunning scenery Maine is famous for. Yesterday the leaves in the central portion of the state were in full color, the maple's red striking against the ash's yellow and the pine and fir dark green.
Our trip back was pretty uneventful, there were no traffic jams or overturned tanker trucks. Our only snag were during the first hour of the trip with Charlie and Maggie having to water the grass in the median 3 times. I also recommend that (and this is important for those traveling anywhere with small children) you do not stop at the Friendly's in Augusta, Maine for dinner on a Thursday night. It took 2 hours from walking in the door to pulling on everyone's jammies in the parking lot and pulling back onto I95. While the food was good and the food wars have expanded the children's repertoire, the folks I felt sorry for were the two blue-haired couples right behind us, smack between our bunch and a family with two truly obnoxious brats. I would guess that the children were about 4 and 6 who climbed on the table, stood in their chairs, whined, fussed, and/or yelled the entire time we were in the restaurant. At one point I overheard this very immature mother say, "Shoot me if I have more than 2 kids." "Lady," I muttered under my breath, "if I was as horrible a mother as you, more than 1 kid would be too much trouble."
Now we are back in suburbia land with instant access to the news and blogs, traffic you have to take into account every time you go out, and shopping opportunities not available in small town America. Only 2 years, 10 months left before we are back in Maine for good. Hopefully by then we can get fancy web access at the farm.
Our trip back was pretty uneventful, there were no traffic jams or overturned tanker trucks. Our only snag were during the first hour of the trip with Charlie and Maggie having to water the grass in the median 3 times. I also recommend that (and this is important for those traveling anywhere with small children) you do not stop at the Friendly's in Augusta, Maine for dinner on a Thursday night. It took 2 hours from walking in the door to pulling on everyone's jammies in the parking lot and pulling back onto I95. While the food was good and the food wars have expanded the children's repertoire, the folks I felt sorry for were the two blue-haired couples right behind us, smack between our bunch and a family with two truly obnoxious brats. I would guess that the children were about 4 and 6 who climbed on the table, stood in their chairs, whined, fussed, and/or yelled the entire time we were in the restaurant. At one point I overheard this very immature mother say, "Shoot me if I have more than 2 kids." "Lady," I muttered under my breath, "if I was as horrible a mother as you, more than 1 kid would be too much trouble."
Now we are back in suburbia land with instant access to the news and blogs, traffic you have to take into account every time you go out, and shopping opportunities not available in small town America. Only 2 years, 10 months left before we are back in Maine for good. Hopefully by then we can get fancy web access at the farm.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
pack 'em up and move 'em out
We are in the midst of scouring every surface in the apartment, packing all our clothes, dropping off books to 3 local libraries, fitting in one last lobster dinner, and saying goodbye to our Maine friends. Please pray that we have a safe trip back down the East Coast on Friday.
Bye farm, see you next year!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Hail mary, Pray for us.. NOW!
While the kids and I have tromped around and explored every bit of the 17 acres of fields on the farm, we have not ventured more than a few dozen feet into the 20+ acres of woods. When we bought the property a few years ago I hiked along the property line with the previous owner and wished to refresh the spray paint blazes. Then on Friday Tim took a walk and reported back 90 minutes later that he had been around the entire perimeter. “If he can do it then I can too,” I thought to myself, but was prohibited by the rain for the next several days. So on Sunday afternoon, with a tropical storm heading our way and Tim off at Lowes with the little ones, I decided to take the two older children and see if we could accomplish my long put-off goal, start some sort of path around the property and refresh the blazes marking the property line. 
We started off well, finding four or five orange streaks on tree trunks before we got hopelessly lost. In our efforts to find the clearest path through the scrubby fir and dead limbs we ended up going in a huge circle and I began to go through my list of favorite prayers that I use outside of prayer time when the children have nightmares or while crossing high bridges. After 2 hours had passed I wondered how long it would take Tim to realize that we were missing and call the police to organize a search party. While we were taking a thinking break we heard a car from a nearby 2 lane road, “Let’s go east out to the road and follow it back home,” Will suggested.
It took another 30 minutes of following old logging roads, walking single-file along the narrow median, and cutting across a neighbor’s hay field to get back to our own road. When we finally trudged up the driveway, we were all soaked to the skin and Mary was completely worn out.
Perhaps the moral of the story is that you shouldn’t go into the woods without a compass, a cell phone, and a very good sense of direction because sometimes you can get lost in your own backyard.
Perhaps the moral of the story is that you shouldn’t go into the woods without a compass, a cell phone, and a very good sense of direction because sometimes you can get lost in your own backyard.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
barn raising
Our next farm project is the construction of a machine shed/barn so we don’t have to store the tractor in the garage and have the smoke alarm go off every time Tim starts up the motor. There is room for a cow and a loft upstairs for hay storage. Yesterday the concrete crew came with 3 cement mixers to pour the foundation. Maggie and Mary finished their schoolwork in plenty of time, but when Will still had his English assignment left when someone hollered, “They’re here!” I let the work slide.
We all spent the next few hours observing the guys in rubber boots raking wet goo into all the corners up to the blue chalk line, 
smoothing it out with huge skimmers, and perfecting the coat with huge machines that looked like fans turned on their sides. To document this moment in our family’s history I pushed each of the kid’s Crocs in the wet concrete in a corner and scratched their initials underneath. David, the builder, won’t start framing for a few weeks, so next summer when we pull back into the driveway we will see it completed and ready for our farming adventure.
We all spent the next few hours observing the guys in rubber boots raking wet goo into all the corners up to the blue chalk line,
smoothing it out with huge skimmers, and perfecting the coat with huge machines that looked like fans turned on their sides. To document this moment in our family’s history I pushed each of the kid’s Crocs in the wet concrete in a corner and scratched their initials underneath. David, the builder, won’t start framing for a few weeks, so next summer when we pull back into the driveway we will see it completed and ready for our farming adventure.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
off in the little "school" bus
This week must be field trip week with a trip Wednesday to the Cole Transportation Museum in Bangor, ME and an outing on Friday with friends to school day at the Common Ground Fair in Unity, ME. The kids knew that we would go see lots of cars, trucks, and fire engines if they finished their schoolwork quickly so by 10:45 we were out the door.
“Miss Hormonal” here got very teary-eyed when I read about the impetus for this private collection of artifacts. Apparently Galen Cole was a combat infantryman in WWII and lost his entire squad to a German tank gun. He made a promise to God that if he survived he would do his best to leave his community better than he found it. After 50 years of running a trucking company he saved enough money to build this museum.
We had a grand time walking up and down the aisles seeing lots of old snowplows, cars, trucks, soapbox derby winners, plows, railroad cars and a locomotive, tractors, and an authentic train station. I was struck by this line from their mission statement, “to inspire patriotism in young people and help build their aspirations --- after seeing what these Maine pioneers accomplished with hard work, honest endeavor, and primitive tools - to believe that with today’s improved knowledge, advanced equipment, and similar efforts, they also can become creative doers and builders of a bright future for themselves, their communities, and their fellow men.” After just seeing the lumberjack saws I had good reason to fully appreciate the farmers who first cleared the trees and rocks from our farm, planted crops, raised animals, and kept themselves warm in the winter without cars, tractors or efficient furnaces. 
Appropriately we finished up our expedition with lunch at Dysart’s truck stop, including a mighty fine apple crisp.
“Miss Hormonal” here got very teary-eyed when I read about the impetus for this private collection of artifacts. Apparently Galen Cole was a combat infantryman in WWII and lost his entire squad to a German tank gun. He made a promise to God that if he survived he would do his best to leave his community better than he found it. After 50 years of running a trucking company he saved enough money to build this museum.
We had a grand time walking up and down the aisles seeing lots of old snowplows, cars, trucks, soapbox derby winners, plows, railroad cars and a locomotive, tractors, and an authentic train station. I was struck by this line from their mission statement, “to inspire patriotism in young people and help build their aspirations --- after seeing what these Maine pioneers accomplished with hard work, honest endeavor, and primitive tools - to believe that with today’s improved knowledge, advanced equipment, and similar efforts, they also can become creative doers and builders of a bright future for themselves, their communities, and their fellow men.” After just seeing the lumberjack saws I had good reason to fully appreciate the farmers who first cleared the trees and rocks from our farm, planted crops, raised animals, and kept themselves warm in the winter without cars, tractors or efficient furnaces.
Appropriately we finished up our expedition with lunch at Dysart’s truck stop, including a mighty fine apple crisp.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
prayer request
Tim is flying down to Florida on Wednesday and taking his sub-specialty boards Thursday. After a year of training and months of intense studying, it all comes down to one test. Luckily he has been through this before- 3 times and passed with flying colors every time. He then will hop on the overnight train out of DC and we will pick him up at the station Saturday morning.
Please join us in praying for his safety and passing the boards, hopefully the last test he ever has to take. If you don’t mind, pray that everything here gets ship-shape for his arrival without me hollering at the children too much. “Get off that just mopped floor! Do you want Daddy to think we lived in squalor all summer?”
Please join us in praying for his safety and passing the boards, hopefully the last test he ever has to take. If you don’t mind, pray that everything here gets ship-shape for his arrival without me hollering at the children too much. “Get off that just mopped floor! Do you want Daddy to think we lived in squalor all summer?”
Saturday, September 13, 2008
real life biology 101
Our first several weeks of school have gone pretty smoothly, especially considering I have two little boys constantly underfoot and not a single toy in the house with which to distract them. Maggie is so enthusiastic about the two subjects she can do alone that she is now on page 95 of the handwriting book and is on page 46 in phonics. Mary and Will finish their assignments in about 3 hours, leaving plenty of time in the afternoons for visiting friends, horse lessons, and constructing a homemade “fair” on the swing set.
Extra science lessons are built in naturally over the course of the day. While touching a blue salamander that now lives under the turned-over wheelbarrow is pretty neat, learning about yellow jacket nests is dangerous, especially for poor Charlie who has been stung 14 times so far this summer. The destruction of these nasty creatures has been my project, yesterday I set out at 6am armed with a shovel and cans of wasp spray to exact revenge on a swarm that had stung me near an old stone wall. Later I showed the kids part of the paper nest with wasp larvae emerging and described the fat queen.
Every day we have at least one sighting of the wild turkeys who slowly stroll through the fields eating bugs and seeds. Today they came so close to the house that I joked to Maggie, “That big tom is going to try out your bicycle. Maybe his friend wants to jump onto the swings.”
One evening last week Will and Mary raced in hollering, “Where’s the camera??” Unfortunately by the time they ran back across the fields, the porcupine that had been lumbering toward them on the mown path had disappeared.
Once we get back to Maryland in a few weeks the children will be sadly disappointed to learn biology from books, with only the occasional trip to the park as a supplement.
Extra science lessons are built in naturally over the course of the day. While touching a blue salamander that now lives under the turned-over wheelbarrow is pretty neat, learning about yellow jacket nests is dangerous, especially for poor Charlie who has been stung 14 times so far this summer. The destruction of these nasty creatures has been my project, yesterday I set out at 6am armed with a shovel and cans of wasp spray to exact revenge on a swarm that had stung me near an old stone wall. Later I showed the kids part of the paper nest with wasp larvae emerging and described the fat queen.
Every day we have at least one sighting of the wild turkeys who slowly stroll through the fields eating bugs and seeds. Today they came so close to the house that I joked to Maggie, “That big tom is going to try out your bicycle. Maybe his friend wants to jump onto the swings.”
One evening last week Will and Mary raced in hollering, “Where’s the camera??” Unfortunately by the time they ran back across the fields, the porcupine that had been lumbering toward them on the mown path had disappeared.
Once we get back to Maryland in a few weeks the children will be sadly disappointed to learn biology from books, with only the occasional trip to the park as a supplement.
Friday, September 12, 2008
September 11
All day yesterday I debated taking the children to see a Sept 11 film being shown at a nearby college. While I didn’t want to expose them to graphic images that would give them nightmares, I wanted to see some of the footage of that day for myself. I recall sitting at the kitchen table listening to the radio 7 years ago and hearing the news reporters make one gasping announcement after another, “A plane has struck the second tower!” and later, “One of the World Trade Towers has collapsed!” Back then I was grateful to be spared seeing live video, but I felt it was time to look back and remember.
Our lives were in a transition that week, having just picked Tim up at the Norfolk Naval Base airport a few days before. The kids and I had come back from Italy in May, packing up before late summer when all Italians go on vacation themselves and getting a crew to show up is next to impossible. The plan was to set out on a trip to Maine before Tim had to check in at his new command on a amphibious ship. We figured on going to the fair, eating lobster, and taking long walks on the rocky beach before gearing up for an inevitable deployment. I remember driving up along the highways in New Jersey seeing Old Glory tacked up at every overpass, but that was nothing compared to the hundreds of American flags displayed along Route 1 once we crossed over into Maine. Every town was lined with tiny flags in their yard, a witness to the patriotism of people who named towns founded during the War between the States Union and Freedom, Liberty and Unity.
So, last night I was a little apprehensive about how I was going to cover 5 pairs of eyes with only two hands, but I needn’t have worried. The film was very artsy, only showing the attack itself for a few moments before focusing on the ash and paper debris, the burned out cars and buildings, the exhausted firefighters walking around in a maze with no one to rescue for the next 40 minutes. There was no talking, no description of the other crashes that day, no record of heroism, or even mention of the 3000 people killed by Islamic fanatics. It was a strange and disappointing movie, but I was grateful we took time out of our day to play patriotic music and sing along loudly in the car, to pray for the souls of the departed and their families still mourning, and to remember the sacrifices of our soldiers fighting overseas so we have do not have another terrorist attack on our soil.
My country,' tis of thee,
Our lives were in a transition that week, having just picked Tim up at the Norfolk Naval Base airport a few days before. The kids and I had come back from Italy in May, packing up before late summer when all Italians go on vacation themselves and getting a crew to show up is next to impossible. The plan was to set out on a trip to Maine before Tim had to check in at his new command on a amphibious ship. We figured on going to the fair, eating lobster, and taking long walks on the rocky beach before gearing up for an inevitable deployment. I remember driving up along the highways in New Jersey seeing Old Glory tacked up at every overpass, but that was nothing compared to the hundreds of American flags displayed along Route 1 once we crossed over into Maine. Every town was lined with tiny flags in their yard, a witness to the patriotism of people who named towns founded during the War between the States Union and Freedom, Liberty and Unity.
So, last night I was a little apprehensive about how I was going to cover 5 pairs of eyes with only two hands, but I needn’t have worried. The film was very artsy, only showing the attack itself for a few moments before focusing on the ash and paper debris, the burned out cars and buildings, the exhausted firefighters walking around in a maze with no one to rescue for the next 40 minutes. There was no talking, no description of the other crashes that day, no record of heroism, or even mention of the 3000 people killed by Islamic fanatics. It was a strange and disappointing movie, but I was grateful we took time out of our day to play patriotic music and sing along loudly in the car, to pray for the souls of the departed and their families still mourning, and to remember the sacrifices of our soldiers fighting overseas so we have do not have another terrorist attack on our soil.
My country,' tis of thee,
sweet land of liberty,
of thee I sing;
land where my fathers died,
land of the pilgrims' pride,
from every mountainside
let freedom ring!
My native country, thee,
land of the noble free,
thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
thy woods and templed hills;
my heart with rapture thrills,
like that above.
Let music swell the breeze,
and ring from all the trees
sweet freedom's song;
let mortal tongues awake;
let all that breathe partake;
let rocks their silence break,
the sound prolong.
Our fathers' God, to thee,
author of liberty,
to thee we sing;
long may our land be bright
with freedom's holy light;
protect us by thy might,
great God, our King.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
big announcement
Well, I guess I should make it official: #6 “Baby Sunshine” is on the way, due in the middle of March. While we weren’t expecting this, it is welcome news. What else could a baby be? I suppose we will have to buy a bigger kitchen table so we can all fit, but that is a small price to pay for another soul from God.
This past weekend we told our families and the reactions ranged from, “I thought you would have been satisfied with 5 children,” to “We are just so thrilled!” The one thing everyone agreed on was that the names we picked were just perfect. I had promised Mother 1 year and 3 days ago that if I had another girl I would name her after her Grammy. “Please God let it be Julia, but if Henry appears then we will still be happy.”
As for my running schedule, well it got chucked as soon as I saw that blue line in the bathroom. There is always time to train and compete, after all I saw 80 year old ladies in some of races I was in this past year, but not one of them was pregnant.
This past weekend we told our families and the reactions ranged from, “I thought you would have been satisfied with 5 children,” to “We are just so thrilled!” The one thing everyone agreed on was that the names we picked were just perfect. I had promised Mother 1 year and 3 days ago that if I had another girl I would name her after her Grammy. “Please God let it be Julia, but if Henry appears then we will still be happy.”
As for my running schedule, well it got chucked as soon as I saw that blue line in the bathroom. There is always time to train and compete, after all I saw 80 year old ladies in some of races I was in this past year, but not one of them was pregnant.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
the food wars return
My children are picky eaters I admit, but they get it all from their father. The only member of his family to eat vegetables is his younger sister who fell in love with a vegetarian. Tim will eat small quantities of asparagus or green beans when it is socially required, but I don’t think a lettuce leaf has ever touched his lips.
I don’t mind the kids not liking bratwurst or cabbage soup, borscht or scrapple, pickles or olives; foods on my list of things I don’t care for, but my kids turn up their noses at cheeseburgers and luncheon meat, at rice and mashed potatoes, at eggs and oatmeal. It has become unbearable for me because when I cheerfully call out, “Lunch!” I will hear, “No peanut butter on Charlie’s, only apple jelly for Will…”
“Enough,” I say, “with your father still in Maryland, you will eat what is put in front of you or starve!”
Tuesday’s meals: oatmeal, Lunchables (I got Wasses hotdogs with chili and cheese, yum!), and blueberries and peas.
Wednesday’s meals: scrambled eggs, naked spaghetti with lots of Parmesan cheese, and corn and blueberries.
Thursday’s meals: scrambled eggs and bacon, grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, and pasta with meat sauce.
Friday's meals: french toast, ramen noodles, and cheese tacos
So far several of the kids have found to their amazement that they actually like the food that I have forced on them. Maggie is the most stubborn of the lot, I recall 3 years ago trying to wean her off baby food and having her go 5 days without eating more than a tablespoon of nutrition.
I have to get them to learn to eat more things than just fruit, dairy, and grains- they need protein to grow and veggies for the vitamins. They just have to be able to eat with other people in their homes and restaurants, and I need to be able to cook just one thing per meal, not 3 separate orders. I am a mommy, not a short order cook. I need to encourage myself to keep strong and not fall back on mac and cheese or cereal because I know they will eat it. On Saturday we will try something exotic after our trip to the big city and stop by the truck stop for cheeseburgers.
One day the children will say, “Gosh Mommy, this meal is really tasty. I’m so sorry I gave you such a hard time at the dinner table all those years.” I’m just not holding my breath it will happen with all of them this week.
I don’t mind the kids not liking bratwurst or cabbage soup, borscht or scrapple, pickles or olives; foods on my list of things I don’t care for, but my kids turn up their noses at cheeseburgers and luncheon meat, at rice and mashed potatoes, at eggs and oatmeal. It has become unbearable for me because when I cheerfully call out, “Lunch!” I will hear, “No peanut butter on Charlie’s, only apple jelly for Will…”
“Enough,” I say, “with your father still in Maryland, you will eat what is put in front of you or starve!”
Tuesday’s meals: oatmeal, Lunchables (I got Wasses hotdogs with chili and cheese, yum!), and blueberries and peas.
Wednesday’s meals: scrambled eggs, naked spaghetti with lots of Parmesan cheese, and corn and blueberries.
Thursday’s meals: scrambled eggs and bacon, grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, and pasta with meat sauce.
Friday's meals: french toast, ramen noodles, and cheese tacos
So far several of the kids have found to their amazement that they actually like the food that I have forced on them. Maggie is the most stubborn of the lot, I recall 3 years ago trying to wean her off baby food and having her go 5 days without eating more than a tablespoon of nutrition.
I have to get them to learn to eat more things than just fruit, dairy, and grains- they need protein to grow and veggies for the vitamins. They just have to be able to eat with other people in their homes and restaurants, and I need to be able to cook just one thing per meal, not 3 separate orders. I am a mommy, not a short order cook. I need to encourage myself to keep strong and not fall back on mac and cheese or cereal because I know they will eat it. On Saturday we will try something exotic after our trip to the big city and stop by the truck stop for cheeseburgers.
One day the children will say, “Gosh Mommy, this meal is really tasty. I’m so sorry I gave you such a hard time at the dinner table all those years.” I’m just not holding my breath it will happen with all of them this week.
Friday, August 29, 2008
“Mommy, Why are you screaming?”
Sarah Palin is a faithful Catholic, pro-life, a member of the NRA, a mom of 5 including a soon-to-be-deployed to Iraq soldier, a dynamic speaker, and a politician with loads of experience. As I drove the kids home from sailing lessons this afternoon listening to her inspiring and patriotic speech in Dayton, Ohio I started crying. This is a politician I can be enthusiastic about, someone to vote for rather than just the better of two bad choices.
God bless John McCain for today’s pick. As a former leftist feminista I want to see a woman succeed - but now I am excited when that woman is conservative. She blows the liberal candidates out of the water with her life experiences and her positions.
I was skimming about on-line and found this great bit from Mark Hemmingway at NRO:
"One of McCain's recurring jokes is that in the Senate he's not known as Miss Congeniality. Well, it turns out that back in her beauty pageant days, Palin actually was Miss Congeniality.
Which is not to say Sarah Barracuda is soft. While I was familiar with her political accomplishments and a few personal details, until I read that piece in the Alaska Daily News linked above, I had no idea how compelling her biography is. Her credentials as a committed wife and mother on top of her political success are excellent and I suspect they will appeal to soccer moms and — dare I say it — those with a feminist streak. As for men, she's a hunter and a former championship basketball player and sportscaster. She clearly knows how to connect with the overwhelmingly male electorate in her state. Also, her husband, who Palin calls "the First Dude", is an oil worker, fisherman and three time winner of the 2,000 mile Iron Dog snowmobile race, who sounds like the kind of manly hombre NASCAR dads will appreciate.
(Remember how giddy people were over the fact that Hillary did a beer and a shot on the trail? I suspect Palin could down a whole bottle of Wild Turkey and still hit six more campaign stops that day.) This is an admittedly informal indicator, but based on the way my inbox is filling up and my phone is ringing, nothing the McCain campaign has done to date comes close to generating the enthusiasm of the Palin pick. "
updated: Gov. Palin isn't Catholic, thank you Karen for letting me know. With no internet at the house, I can't research like I am used to doing. There may be many theological differences between Catholics and evangelical Protestants, but our love for country, God, and family puts us on the same side on many political issues.
God bless John McCain for today’s pick. As a former leftist feminista I want to see a woman succeed - but now I am excited when that woman is conservative. She blows the liberal candidates out of the water with her life experiences and her positions.
I was skimming about on-line and found this great bit from Mark Hemmingway at NRO:
"One of McCain's recurring jokes is that in the Senate he's not known as Miss Congeniality. Well, it turns out that back in her beauty pageant days, Palin actually was Miss Congeniality.
Which is not to say Sarah Barracuda is soft. While I was familiar with her political accomplishments and a few personal details, until I read that piece in the Alaska Daily News linked above, I had no idea how compelling her biography is. Her credentials as a committed wife and mother on top of her political success are excellent and I suspect they will appeal to soccer moms and — dare I say it — those with a feminist streak. As for men, she's a hunter and a former championship basketball player and sportscaster. She clearly knows how to connect with the overwhelmingly male electorate in her state. Also, her husband, who Palin calls "the First Dude", is an oil worker, fisherman and three time winner of the 2,000 mile Iron Dog snowmobile race, who sounds like the kind of manly hombre NASCAR dads will appreciate.
(Remember how giddy people were over the fact that Hillary did a beer and a shot on the trail? I suspect Palin could down a whole bottle of Wild Turkey and still hit six more campaign stops that day.) This is an admittedly informal indicator, but based on the way my inbox is filling up and my phone is ringing, nothing the McCain campaign has done to date comes close to generating the enthusiasm of the Palin pick. "
updated: Gov. Palin isn't Catholic, thank you Karen for letting me know. With no internet at the house, I can't research like I am used to doing. There may be many theological differences between Catholics and evangelical Protestants, but our love for country, God, and family puts us on the same side on many political issues.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
the start of school approaches
I had 3 summer homeschool goals: for Will to write his field trip report for history, for Mary to slog through Singapore 2A math, and for Maggie to start Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons. Despite moving (twice!) and squeezing in sailing lessons, horse 4H time, and expeditions to the beach, we have managed to get most of these goals met.
The whole crew went to Prospect, Maine and learned about Fort Knox which was begun in 1844 against a possible British naval attack and was never finished, much less used. The kids sat on cannons, climbed into dark passages, scaled the roofline, and almost got completely lost.
The whole crew went to Prospect, Maine and learned about Fort Knox which was begun in 1844 against a possible British naval attack and was never finished, much less used. The kids sat on cannons, climbed into dark passages, scaled the roofline, and almost got completely lost.
We also braved our (okay, my fear) of heights and whooshed up 42 stories in the fastest elevator in the state to the top of the Penobscot Narrows Bridge. The view was superb as we could see the entire fort, the Penobscot River, the town of Bucksport, and as far as Blue Hill. Later Will and I sat down and worked on his report, sending it in to Seton the next day.
Mary is finishing up week 11 in her math, and despite the moans, groans, and demands for a Skittle for finishing her daily work, she has mastered addition and subtraction. While I am not pleased that we wasted 2 years using MCP workbooks, I have hope that one day she will at least be able to balance her own checkbook. Slow and steady will lead to mastering arithmetic and I am finally willing to back up far enough to accomplish that rather than succumb to my own pride at having a child be “a year ahead.” One of the benefits of home schooling is allowing each kid to work at his own pace- ahead, behind, or the same as kids in public school. Mary is evidence of that by being in 4 different grade levels in her studies.
Maggie is my most eager learner and we have dutifully spent most afternoons plodding through 100 EZ Lessons, having finished #33 today. She has gone from struggling between L and I sounds to reading 2 sentence stories. In addition, I have bought several Random House Step Into Reading books struggling through on the first go-around, only to hear her reading them fluently over and over to Charlie in the following days. She has been my most predictable reader, which I appreciate after “perhaps I will learn to read before I go to college” Will and “ I taught myself to read in secret” Mary.
We will start in earnest on schoolwork in a week or so, but I still want them to be able to enjoy our last remaining month in Maine catching frogs, working on Pine Stump fort deep in the woods, and riding bikes with no fear of cars. The kids have dutifully practiced the piano, worked on Cub Scout pins, and read more fiction than I thought possible. As we start our 6th year of home schooling, I think we are better prepared than ever and sufficiently rested to tackle another challenging, yet fun session of learning.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
making Maine memories
Summer in Maine has finally appeared, though a little too late for vacationers and kids going back to school. The sun has been shining for more than a few hours allowing hay to be cut and baled. Our little crew took advantage of the warm weather and headed out to our favorite quiet swimming spot. While it now takes about an hour’s drive, including a long slog through the woods to pull into sight of the water, we were rewarded with hours of fun.
Will and Mary blew up the inflatable dingy and proved their rowing prowess by taking the smaller children on rides. 
After Mary took Maggie and Charlie on a hike out to a small rocky point, Will met them with the boat and took them across to a tiny island dotted with scrubby bushes.
Will and Mary blew up the inflatable dingy and proved their rowing prowess by taking the smaller children on rides.
After Mary took Maggie and Charlie on a hike out to a small rocky point, Will met them with the boat and took them across to a tiny island dotted with scrubby bushes. 
While there weren’t any blueberries on the island, Mary and Timmy and I found bunches on the hike back and sampled a few of the dainty treats. I tried to take the boat out, but found out that rowing is a lot harder than it looks. All I managed to do was go in circles. We spotted a bald eagle soaring overhead, but when 3 cars pulled up I decided that the beach got a little too crowded and packed everyone in the car for the trek home. These sorts of afternoons are what the children remember about their summers in Maine, as well as the days of exploring the woods and fields on our farm. While one day I might be able to push off the beach in a canoe for a peaceful paddle, I will treasure the memories of a noisy day at the pond in my mother’s heart.
Friday, August 22, 2008
the highlight of summer
I love going to the fair. Not the state fair, with hundreds of thousands of people and big name musical acts on stage, but the small home-town Union Fair, held each August in Union, Maine. There are chickens,
sheep... 
pigs...
and cows
from local farms competing for prizes, ox and antique tractor pulls, greasy and sticky sweet fair food, the demolition derby, and of course amusement park rides - the kind your mother wouldn’t let you go on as a child because they didn’t look safe.
We have been attending this fair since we only had 2 children, which goes back 5-6 years, always letting the kids have 1 day to get bracelets so they can ride as many times as their stomach will allow. Every year there are the old favorites such as the carousel, the giant slide, and the fun house, new ones such as the Speedway, and surprisingly the “Spooky Ride” returned from a 2 year hiatus to the older children’s delight. Poor Timmy wasn’t tall enough to ride anything but the motorcycles that went round-and-round , but he enjoyed his 2 turns so much that I had to pry his little hands off the chrome handlebars.
7 hours might seem to be plenty of time to see all the sights, but it comes too quickly for little ones. Despite the howls of protest I knew I had picked a good time to go when I looked in the rear view mirror a few miles outside of town and saw 5 snoring children slumped over the seats of the van. By the time we got back to the house it was pitch dark and I had to shake both Will and Mary hard to get them to wake up long enough to climb the stairs and get into their jammies.
I was proud of my crew, they were well behaved and responsible for each other so there were no temper tantrums or frantic searches for lost children. In fact, since they were so good I promised a return on Saturday for the pedal tractor races, the parade, and another shot at the free bicycle raffle.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
A fine day in Maine
The other day we had some old friends visit the farm, and we all had a fine time showing off the apartment/garage, the garden, the fields, and the new building project. For the past few mornings two dump trucks, an excavator (which I always call a steam shovel in honor of Margaret Wise Brown’s Mike Mulligan), a bulldozer, and a roller have all been in place in our front yard. Our machine shed/barn is now well under way with at least 15 truck loads of gravel already spread and packed down. When we found that 6 year old Daniel was coming, I exclaimed, “You picked the perfect day, it is construction central around here!”
My favorite scene was seeing all 4 boys lined up against the garage doors for over 30 minutes staring at all the equipment in use. First the dump trucks took turns backing up and letting go of their load, the bulldozer scraping it all smooth, followed by the roller smashing it all down to a shiny finish.
Later all the kids played on the swing set, picked huge bouquets of wildflowers, and erected a rope swing in an old oak tree. Will got out several saws and the boys hacked down enough saplings from the edge of the woods (I wanted them down anyway) for everyone to have their own. For the next 20 minutes they raised them up to standing, only to shout, “Timber!” and giggle as they crashed to the ground. Amazingly enough, no one lost a finger from the sharp saws or an eye by the plethora of falling branches.
Our little guest very politely walked up to me next to the garden and said quietly, “Thank you Katherine for the nice time. I liked playing on your farm.”
Anytime Daniel, anytime.
My favorite scene was seeing all 4 boys lined up against the garage doors for over 30 minutes staring at all the equipment in use. First the dump trucks took turns backing up and letting go of their load, the bulldozer scraping it all smooth, followed by the roller smashing it all down to a shiny finish.
Later all the kids played on the swing set, picked huge bouquets of wildflowers, and erected a rope swing in an old oak tree. Will got out several saws and the boys hacked down enough saplings from the edge of the woods (I wanted them down anyway) for everyone to have their own. For the next 20 minutes they raised them up to standing, only to shout, “Timber!” and giggle as they crashed to the ground. Amazingly enough, no one lost a finger from the sharp saws or an eye by the plethora of falling branches.
Our little guest very politely walked up to me next to the garden and said quietly, “Thank you Katherine for the nice time. I liked playing on your farm.”
Anytime Daniel, anytime.
Monday, August 18, 2008
switched at birth?
After the past few weeks I am convinced that none of the children living here actually belong to me. Oh yeah, they are all the spitting image of Tim and I, they all share common traits, and Mary was actually the only baby present at the Naval Hospital in Naples during our 2 day stay, but their behavior recently has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are strangers.
I am a relatively quiet person, introspective and needing blocks of quiet time each day to recharge. I cringe when immersed in constant upheaval and noise. The cramming of 6 people in 4 rooms for rainy days on end has resulted in my head pounding from the bickering, the fussing, and the mess I have been subjected to by these little creatures. Tim is even more of an introvert than I am, so it would make sense for us to have 5 bookworms who love to read for hours, take long rambles through the woods, stay neat and tidy, and finish what they start. The only place these children are quiet is at Mass, which I am grateful for, but it would be nice if they were like that all the time. My other proof, backed up by elementary genetics is that NONE of the children are left-handed, despite the fact that both their so-called parents are, two recessive genes automatically result in that recessive trait in the offspring.
So, there you have it. If you know of any quiet, nerdy left-handed children that don't seem to fit into your household perhaps we could consider switching them back to their proper families. I would enjoy the reduced noise level, but would miss hearing, "I love you Mommy," and, "Goodnight, sleep tight, see you in the morning."
I am a relatively quiet person, introspective and needing blocks of quiet time each day to recharge. I cringe when immersed in constant upheaval and noise. The cramming of 6 people in 4 rooms for rainy days on end has resulted in my head pounding from the bickering, the fussing, and the mess I have been subjected to by these little creatures. Tim is even more of an introvert than I am, so it would make sense for us to have 5 bookworms who love to read for hours, take long rambles through the woods, stay neat and tidy, and finish what they start. The only place these children are quiet is at Mass, which I am grateful for, but it would be nice if they were like that all the time. My other proof, backed up by elementary genetics is that NONE of the children are left-handed, despite the fact that both their so-called parents are, two recessive genes automatically result in that recessive trait in the offspring.
So, there you have it. If you know of any quiet, nerdy left-handed children that don't seem to fit into your household perhaps we could consider switching them back to their proper families. I would enjoy the reduced noise level, but would miss hearing, "I love you Mommy," and, "Goodnight, sleep tight, see you in the morning."
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
blueberry pie
So far this month I have not had any lobster, but I have made blueberry muffins, blueberry bread, and yesterday undertook the baking of my very first blueberry pie. The children practically inhale both the bread and muffins, but the 5 cups of blueberries enclosed in flaky pie crust were for my enjoyment alone. Every summer I wait anxiously for the first week of August when the fields are filled with backs bent low raking through the shrubbery. It appears to be exhausting work, I willingly skip the pick-your-own fields to buy a large box already winnowed and pack them up in the freezer to enjoy all summer.
This afternoon we are in town yet again, this time to visit the car dealership and visit the local diner that serves delicious soups on yet another rainy cool day. Will had been clambering all week for the opportunity to camp out in the tent, but at 4am was driven inside by drizzle. I can only be grateful that we have plenty to keep us occupied after I decided that the children were better served by starting school than staring out the window or playing computer games. Several acquaintances have related stories of vacationing friends who have been forced inside during their entire stay, not being able to swim, bike, sail, or hike due to the horrible weather. I am expecting that the sun will begin to shine again and the temperature to rise once the public schools officially begin, leaving the parks, beaches, and beauties of Maine for those of us unconstrained by the rigid schedule of such institutions.
This afternoon we are in town yet again, this time to visit the car dealership and visit the local diner that serves delicious soups on yet another rainy cool day. Will had been clambering all week for the opportunity to camp out in the tent, but at 4am was driven inside by drizzle. I can only be grateful that we have plenty to keep us occupied after I decided that the children were better served by starting school than staring out the window or playing computer games. Several acquaintances have related stories of vacationing friends who have been forced inside during their entire stay, not being able to swim, bike, sail, or hike due to the horrible weather. I am expecting that the sun will begin to shine again and the temperature to rise once the public schools officially begin, leaving the parks, beaches, and beauties of Maine for those of us unconstrained by the rigid schedule of such institutions.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
oh where, oh where is that global warming?
Since arriving in Maine 3 weeks ago we have experienced only 1 day of summer. I am so grateful we took full advantage and spent the afternoon paddling in the surf, digging holes, and getting sunburnt at the lake since almost every other day we have experienced mist and rain and temperatures more in keeping with October in New England.
Yesterday we were all trapped inside with the heat turned on and with a background symphony of tinny music punctuated with a frequent honk of blowing noses and sneezes. I only brought one computer game to help entertain the children, but even The Oregon Trail gets boring after playing it daily for 2 weeks. Perhaps it was a bad idea but in desperation, I taught the older kids to play Spider Solitaire- a time-sucking, mind-numbing game if ever there was one. Tim promised that he would find and send several old favorites such as I Spy, and even the builder offered to look through his kid's stash for anything appropriate. I only hope for a return to blue skies and the opportunity to kick all the children outside and enjoy a currently elusive beautiful Maine summer.
Yesterday we were all trapped inside with the heat turned on and with a background symphony of tinny music punctuated with a frequent honk of blowing noses and sneezes. I only brought one computer game to help entertain the children, but even The Oregon Trail gets boring after playing it daily for 2 weeks. Perhaps it was a bad idea but in desperation, I taught the older kids to play Spider Solitaire- a time-sucking, mind-numbing game if ever there was one. Tim promised that he would find and send several old favorites such as I Spy, and even the builder offered to look through his kid's stash for anything appropriate. I only hope for a return to blue skies and the opportunity to kick all the children outside and enjoy a currently elusive beautiful Maine summer.
Friday, August 01, 2008
light blogging ahead
Well, we are up in Maine and Tim left this morning to head back to check in at his new command. He certainly enjoyed driving his tractor, moving dirt piles and mowing the acres and acres of grass. He also bought a rototiller attachment so I now have 300+ square feet of garden to rake and plant. The apartment is almost finished and it is so bright and easy to clean that I actually look forward to dry mopping all the rooms and sweeping it all up in the mudroom at the bottom of the stairs. However, one piece in the puzzle is missing, the internet one. I tried for 4 hours to get simple dial-up installed on my ancient computer, but gave up for good when the modem crashed and burned. My next step is to convince Tim that a laptop would be simple because so many libraries and and places have wi-fi and I wouldn't have to sit on hold for 30 minutes with the phone company again. So, for now my only access to email or the blog is at the library while listening to a riot in the background, "Can I play on the computer now? " "Mommy help me look for a new Littles book." "I need help in the potty!"
So bear with me and soon I shall be back on-line with time to read and write about what is going on in the world, at least the large Catholic homeschooling family part.
So bear with me and soon I shall be back on-line with time to read and write about what is going on in the world, at least the large Catholic homeschooling family part.
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