D.C. Sans Kids

Last week, Jon was in Boston. He drove--all 13+ hours. Uggg. I was in North Carolina. He was supposed to leave on Saturday morning, but ended up delayed until about 11am. That meant that he wouldn't be home that night. I hung up the phone, sighed, then picked up the phone again. I called a good friend who agreed to watch all my kids overnight. Then I talked to another good friend. She would take them the second night. Then I called Jon, booked a hotel, and headed north.

That night, Jon and I arrived at the hotel only 10 minutes apart. We went to a wonderful Chinese restaurant. The next morning we got up and went to a great place for brunch. The servers all wore suspenders and bow ties and there was more Mahogany trim and paneling in that place than I have ever seen. Gas lights, original paintings, gorgeous flower arrangements and a crowd even on Sunday morning. Lovely brunch.

Then we bundled up, braved the elements and headed down the street for the Smithsonian museums. We went to the National Archives and the National Museum of Art--both things we wouldn't dream of taking the kids to. I lugged that big camera everywhere and only took one picture the entire trip. Actually, Jon took it for me.



You would think that I would choose the Washington Monument or something iconic, but this painting was a must take. It is the painting that is depicted on one of our timeline cards that the kids study--St. Benedict and Monasticism. They had to see me standing next to the original. Of course, I couldn't use the flash, so even this picture isn't good. But, there it is.

That evening we headed back to the hotel and ordered pizza and a Philly cheesesteak. I asked the concierge where to find a good Philly cheese and she laughed. She is from Philly and used to work at a hotel in Philly and was always asked that question there. She hadn't heard it in years. She named a place that almost gets it right and we ordered delivery. She was right--almost right, but not quite. I love the real deal.

Then we got up the next morning at 5 and left at 6. Jon had a lunch meeting.

So, that was our whirlwind excursion without kids to D.C. It was lovely.

Clean Sweep

Today I am cleaning. I'm not teaching a stitch of school; we're done with that for the year. Often, I can't keep up with my house. It moves too much. It wiggles and skips and rolls down hills. When it does this all the things inside my house, especially toys, fly all over the place. I even find things like Legos in underwear drawers.

So, today I grounded my house--just nailed it down to its foundation, and I'm cleaning from top to bottom. I'm making nice neat piles of Legos, cars, game pieces, Go Fish cards, stray socks, and board books. They are all finding their homes today.

Tomorrow I will untether my house and maybe it will feel like it's all dressed up in Sunday's best and behave itself while I get some other things done.

I don't think that any child let loose for Christmas break could be any happier than I am that break has arrived. Maybe I'll wiggle, skip and roll down hills--nah, 'cause I would have to get the grass stains out.

Mom and Sugar

Sugar and I had our own mini photo shoot yesterday. I let Shakespeare touch the holy camera, but only on a tripod. He was thrilled! He captured some decent shots. Sugar turned 6 months old yesterday!



The fall color here is unprecedented--at least for he six years we've been here. I wanted bright red or orange because it's everywhere, but we just settled for the yellow that is in our yard.



If three of us were not sick today I would pack up my troop and torture them with family pictures. Only a touch of fever and some sore throats.



Of course, I got a few of Shakespeare too.

My Alter-Reality

I have this other side of me that I don't post about often. It has actually dominated my summer. Nope, it's not Sugar. It is the reason that I have not blogged as often. It fact, it led me to create 14 new blogs recently. Thankfully, I only have to post on two of them. It has also led to the mass destruction of my house. Ask my hubby. I thought I was behind when the baby was born. It got worse. (I can hear you groan, Mom). I finally got some relief today. Spent 4 hours cleaning (must have those genes in there somewhere, Nat)and it felt soooooo wonderful.

What has caused all the commotion, you ask? I'm directing a home school group this year called Classical Conversations. You see, it just wasn't enough to remodel the bathroom, paint the kitchen, go to my sister's wedding, travel to Florida, make up a month of school that was missed, and have a baby. It sounds like I don't enjoy it--I do, but I've had to keep up with so many details and it feels a bit like I never left school. My mind has stayed there and there is no end in sight. The outgoing director told me that the summer was going to be the most intense time for me, but that my mind will be on it all year. Oy, vey!

Last night I hosted my orientation. It went well. I have 23 families (36 children) enrolled this year. I have 5 tutors who teach classes ranging from K4-6th grade and another afternoon program that teaches 4-6th graders English grammar and writing. We also have two nurseries and an afternoon class for the younger kids. We meet every week for 12 weeks in the Fall and 12 weeks in the Spring. Getting the orientation done was such a relief. Now I feel the forward motion. Next Tuesday is our first day of classes. We're off and rolling!

Pray for me, not just to make it, but to soar through next Tuesday. I'm blessed to have the privilege of administrating for such a wonderful group of people. The families in the program have blessed me for years and I know that will only continue.

Anyway, that's where I have been hiding--with my head stuck in the details.

My Surprise

Jon told me to be ready to go to our friend's house in 30 min. I got the kids ready. Jon got home and told me that he had to take a shower (he was filthy) before he joined us, but that I should just go on ahead because they were waiting. Then he backed the van out of the garage, turned it around, and parked it in the garage tail end first. Odd.

I forgot something so I dashed inside. When I came out, the kids were running all over the place. As I gathered my flock, Sinatra kept pointing to the side yard and yelling something. Finally I made out the little guy's words, "We got a Jeep!" I went to the side yard and there was a Jeep with a tarp thrown over it. They were not supposed to have discovered that. The surprise was ruined--just a little.

Jon came down and we loaded kids in the van, but my slightly dejected sweetheart took Sinatra and drove off to the friend's house without saying a word about the Jeep. Now I was wondering if I would forever associate the memory of getting a Jeep with the uncomfortable passive aggressive anger of my husband. We had talked about the possibility of this for years, but had always come to the conclusion that it would be way too impractical. Odd--he's not the passive aggressive type. I pulled out of the garage FORWARD, so as not to see the hiding spot, and joined Jon at our friend's house.

We dropped the kids because Jon had arranged for the two of us (and Sugar) to go Jeeping and to dinner while our friends babysat. We loaded in and took off with the wind in our hair. He still wasn't talking. I asked direct questions about the Jeep. It had 132,000 miles on it--how much did you get for your truck and how much did you pay for this? No answer. Did you buy it from a friend or somewhere else? Do we own this? No answer. After 5 min. my anger reached ticked off level and I told him what I thought of his silence. He didn't seem angry though. In fact, he seemed rather pleased with himself. He smiled at me and didn't say a word--smug little rodent. Odd. Odd. Odd.

I tried to calm down and enjoy the ride. It was, after all, a Jeep with the top down on a beautiful evening. After 10 min. of this, he finally broke. He laughed and told me that the Jeep was on loan from a friend who wanted to sell it. "Was that so hard, Jon?" I asked. "Why wouldn't you answer my questions?"

"I just wanted to see how you would have taken it if I had really pulled something like that--you did pretty good," (Unedited...I would have corrected that last little word).

Glare. Sneer. Laugh. Really enjoy the ride.

We went north of town to a Mexican restaurant. When we got out, Jon was going to leave his duffel bag in the car. He said that it would probably be okay. "What? No way. Take it in," I insisted. Towels and swimsuits aren't too expensive, but why risk it.

We sat down and ate. When I had finished eating, Jon opened the bag and started rummaging around--crinkling plastic. Odd. He pulled a box out and set in in front of me. It took a moment to register, then I dropped my jaw and was speechless. When I found words they were so eloquent--"No way. No way!! No way!!! I can't believe you got me one!"

Okay, let's cut to the chase. It's a Nikon D60 Digital SLR. It's a really nice camera for an amateur. I've wanted one for so long, but never could justify the price tag. Feed the kids for two months or buy a camera? It had always been a tough choice, but we'd always chosen the kids. Apparently, my husband thought that we just might manage to do both.

The camera came with a 18-55mm VR lens (nice and basic), but Hubs added a 55-200mm VR (telephoto) lens too.

I actually cried--no boo-hooing, but watery eyes and emotion. Then I smiled the rest of the night.

Of course, they don't make it so that you can play with the toy right away. I had to charge the battery overnight. And then the next day was one that I am glad I will never have to repeat. So I finally got out my camera tonight and started taking shots. The light had faded outside so these are all inside in the fake light. What an upgrade!!! I can't wait to snap away in the daylight.

About the Jeep--we're considering it. I think it's horribly impractical, but wonderfully fun.

What a nice, non-passive aggressive husband I have.



Macro setting.



Picture using pop-up flash--notice harsh shadows. Have a plan to remedy all that.



Picture set to no flash and high ISO (kind of works like the speed of film you would buy). A bit of blur, but really sharp compared with what I've been using. You can really see the difference between the flash and no flash shots if you click on the picture. Also, you could take my fingerprint from that macro shot--without a macro lens even!



Here's what Popcorn thinks--two thumbs up. He just can't wait to see the shots his mom gets when the sun pops up tomorrow.

Amost Finished!!

This is Erin's dad, Deke. In this picture, we are nearly finished, just building the final staircase from the lower level to the upper level. Only took us 8 days to get this far.

What, why so long? Well first we had to study it out, then study some more and finally check what we studied. You see, the trees move and not necessarily together so you have to engineer slippage and movement into the treehouse platforms. And then, the tree trunks are not straight so the placement of braces is tricky. So you finally build some of it and discover you hadn't considered another engineering challenge, so you redo it another way. And so it went until finally today, there came a point when we both said, "That's enough."

Wonder Woman!!

Best of all, I spent 8 days with a "make it happen" supermom -- Erin. Last time she made a treehouse (she was about 11) it was constructed of cardboard and held together with string. It stayed up about 53 minutes until a slight breeze demolished it!! (okay, so I exaggerate a bit). And as I recall, she never cared a whit about tools and construction--ever! So what's the deal now? She can cut straight lines with a power saw, she can drive nails without bending them, and can interpret blueprints with ease. But wait, that's not all! She even came up with some engineering suggestions that trumped her dad's ideas and she pressed for them until he relented (because they really were better ideas). What an amazing woman! It was fun working with you, Baby. Pop is so proud of you!

Splleing Issuses

It's tempting to just hang up blogging.

My spell check for my blog page isn't working. It just stopped. I hate this because I stink at spelling. I've had to resort to the electronic pocket spell checker that I carried with me everywhere during high school and college. I know I'm missing little, and probably big, mistakes. Be patient with me. I'll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I feel really vulnerable without my security blanket. God bless the person who invented the spell checker.

Did you know that Shakespeare spelled his name a dozen or so different ways (none of them Shakespeare)? It was a sign of creativity. A person who could only spell a word one way was considered dull and unimaginative. I wonder if Shakespeare would have backed down from writing Romeo and Juliet if he had to follow all of Webster's rules.

Well, I'll just encourage myself with all that, and long for the days of less refined spelling. I'm all for advancement--things like indoor plumbing and washing machines, but why did they have to mess with spelling?

The Bat and the Traitor

My cousin is hosting animal stories at her site every week until she runs out of things to share. She told a horror of a mouse story a few weeks ago and a funny story involving a name misunderstanding this week. It got me thinking about my own animal story...

Gem was only about 5 months old and we were living in a rental house. It was a tri-level (becomes an important detail later).

Jon and I had gone to bed and were finally settled in and warm when we heard something on the outside of the air conditioner unit in the far window. "It's those morning doves walking on the outside. They do that a lot in the morning," I commented to Jon. Annoyed, I rolled over on my side and closed my eyes again.

The sound continued. I thought about getting up and scaring the doves away, but wanted to stay in my warm covers. I couldn't sleep because of the sound, and before long I began wondering about it. It was 11 at night. The doves shouldn't be out this late--maybe a squirrel? Scratch, tap, scratch, tap. Sleep was not coming. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes. In the stillness of the dark, there was a small shadow moving in circles over our bed. I grabbed Jon's arm--death grip style. "Open your eyes!"

He saw it too and we instantly flopped the covers over our heads. We had a quick strategy session, in which I shuddered and made pitiful noises to show my distain for flying rodents, then we slipped out of the covers and onto the floor, crawling for the door. I closed all the upstairs bedroom doors, grabbed a towel from the bathroom, then we turned on the bedroom light. The bat darted out of our room and down the stairs to the living room. Step one, check.

In our strategy pow-wow we had decided that we would use towels to flush him out, directing him out the front door. The brilliant plan had been mine, hailing from my childhood where we often had birds down our chimney and "waved" them out the door using towels.

I have a very impulsive and ingenuitive husband who varied the plan a bit. He came out with a tennis racket, ready to clobber the flying rodent. When that failed, I was annoyed and told him to take his post at the top of the stairs so that the bat couldn't get back upstairs. I stayed at the bottom of the stairs, opposite the open front door, waving my stupid towel. It did absolutely nothing. The bat kept circling.

About this time, Jon disappeared again and came back with the comforter from our bed. If a towel is good, a comforter is better. He waved it a few times, then used all 6'3" of his God-given height to hold it over the entire opening, leaving him on the upstairs side and me all by my lonesome self with the bat.

I may have cursed at him. I hope I didn't. All I really remember doing is screaming wildly and screaming even louder every time the bat came near. Every time I screamed Jon would laugh. Pretty soon, the comforter was shaking with his laughter--the traitor. After a while I laughed too. Laugh, scream, laugh, scream.

The bat finally gave into my masterful plan and sailed out the door. My wonderfully brave and protective husband abandoned his safe zone, came down the stairs and hugged me. I punched his arm, but not too hard.

We still laugh about it.

Not Muy Bonita Bike

Here are two new items: the basketball hoop (put together and upright) and A BRAND NEW MOUNTAIN BIKE that Jon bought me two weeks ago!!! When we got home from Christmas vacation he disappeared to run errands. When he came back he had my bike in the back of the van!

I've been wanting a new mountain bike for years. My old bike was really my brother's from his teen years. It was a road bike and needed both tires replaced--something I didn't want to do because I didn't feel like putting $40 into a bike that I didn't even like to ride and couldn't pull the bike trailer to haul the kids.

My new bike is primo--disc brakes and shock absorber on the front. It's a Novara, Bonita (Novara is REI's brand). Bonita means pretty in Spanish. Though I despise the puce color on half of the bike, I must look beyond that to see that the clearance price does come with minor drawbacks: My Bonita isn't bonita. I've been on two short rides already and am looking forward to hitting the local trails soon. There are miles of trails through the woods at the college where Jon works. I'm planning on dropping the kids off at his office so I can go on a late afternoon ride sometime soon. Right now it's muddy.

Now I just have to buy some MACE and a helmet. Also, why do nice bikes not have kick stands? Are kick stands really that uncool? Are they going to get in the way on a trail? I think not.