100 Bulbs, 100 Flowers

The Start:

The Finish:

I have felt a biblical mantra in the back of my head lately: "You reap what you sow."  The thought is both vague and frightening in the parenting realm, so I am applying it to gardening:  The other night, girls and I planted 100 bulbs.  When we finished, it was dark.  We'll have to keep the squirrels away all winter, but surely we'll have a big row of daffodils next spring.  It's something I've always wanted.

P.S.  The wheelbarrow did eventually fall over.  No one seemed to mind.

Bugs: The Praying Mantis

June and John and I spent about 30 minutes communing with a praying mantis this week.  We've never seen one at our house before, but I must say, they are strange creatures.  Their little trianglular heads follow you with their eyes like Martians.  

One citing, and it has certainly joined the ranks of other favored bugs.  John is ready to introduce it to his his blue baby grasshopper feather. 

Bugs: The Pet Grasshopper

This is John's pet baby grasshopper.  The 1/2 inch blue feather.  He played with it and took care of it for hours.  June joined in and matched his affection with maternal love.  In fact, a few days later, it is still in their realm of concern.  

For a moment, I watched and projected an adult perspective:  Wow.  Am I raising some fragile souls here?  We are truly apart from the world.  Do I need to harden them up a little bit?  

But, I quickly let go of my jaded concern and embraced their coddling.  Honestly, it feels good to care for just about anything.  And that includes a tiny little 1/2 inch blue baby grasshopper feather.

Fall Herding

Last Sunday, we had a picnic and hike at nearby Chautauqua.  I'd call it a family hike, but these days, it's not exactly family togetherness.  Will and Clara trail run ahead, June and/or John creep at a snail's pace, and Jeff and I hang out somewhere in the middle, trying to keep everyone in sight.  

Still, I could never get enough Fall hiking, even if it is really a herding exercise in disguise.

 

Entertainment IV: Art

With colder weather settling in, the volume of art projects reach a new proportion in our household.  June came home from school today inspired for me to trace her.  I don't fully understand this narcissistic interest.  No matter who the tracer is (John, Clara, me), the shape always turns out a little weird.

 

Anyway, by the end of the project, June proudly hung her life-size self beside her bed.  And I hung up my to do list:  clean out art cabinet.

Entertainment III: Games

In our household, there is always an "it" game.  Usually one that is discovered, made up, or evolved from random pieces of equipment and an empty afternoon.  The rules are often slightly elusive, but the enthusiasm is always grand.   The enthusiasm lasts anywhere from a week to months.

Lately, the it game is "hockey."  Here are the basics, as much as I can gather:

Players:
Two at a time.  The more observers the better.

Equipment:
(1)  stems from a broken telescope stand or a big unused pole we got from the hardware store
(2)  A tiny rubber ball.

Uniform:
(1)  Females:  Gloves or boots of hats or long underwear.  Changing clothes mid-game is encouraged.
(2)  Males:  Unbuttoned shirts and biker gloves.

Rules:
(1)  One player hits the tiny rubber ball with a stick.
(2)  The other player tries to block.
(3)  The rest, I don't know.  It moves too fast.  That seems to be part of the deal.

Excitement:
(1)  Keep the game moving really fast so that rules can be elastic.
(2)  Lose the tiny bouncy ball every so often so that a side game called "Find the tiny ball" ensues.

It really is a nice thing to have an it game to turn to - for them I mean.  For me, I have some it laundry to do, an it kitchen to clean, some it stuff I'm cooking, some it weeds to pull or rocks to move, and then if I'm lucky, I can grab one minute with my it book.

Entertainment II: Rocks

Rocks provide an endless source of entertainment at our household, partly because we have so many.  About five years ago, we "over-ordered" when we aimed to cover the little-used side of our house.  Although the pile has shrunk, it remains to this day, right where it was first dumped.

My excuse is that the rocks are a perpetual source of play.  The kids use them for:

• writing
• drawing
• designing
• sculpting
• chiseling
• throwing (a la John, often at the car, or worse, his siblings)
• making paint
• making chalk

It reminds me of one of my favorite picture books, called "If You Find a Rock," by Peggy Christian.  It is filled with beautiful photographs of rocks from the child's point of view.  There is a drawing rock, a skipping rock, a wishing rock, a splashing rock, a resting rock, a worry rock, a kicking rock, a climbing rock, a jumping rock and more.

Rock play does seem to connect with something primal, something peaceful.  And who knows, I may be projecting, but I even venture to say something thoughtful.  Never a bad thing.