Spit Wads…. Again {sigh}

Sadly, my boys remembered their father’s example from six long years ago regarding the making, aiming and firing of spit wads.  Just Great.  I’m not sure what restaurant we were in when the boys each pilfered extra straw “guns”.  Regardless, the slimy ball wars continued for three days and I keep throwing away any straw I find.  On Sunday night at a concert at church, they actually pulled the straws out of their pockets and started gumming up some paper.  Militant mom confiscated all weapons before havoc was had.  I haven’t seen any today…. day five, so maybe we’re over this annoying ammunition activity.  Here’s hoping!

On Sunday, the height of the spit wad wars, Keeve had a friend over and they, along with Austin, went out front to spit at each other.  That’s really what it is.  Gummy, chewed up paper towel balls fired at one another, but “not at their heads”, so I’m told. 

My dry and thirsty plants in the front yard were calling to me so I ventured out-of-doors to relieve them and happened on the spit wad war.  To my surprise, my five-year-old nephew was also “playing”.  Before I made myself known, I secretly listened to the verbal exchange and rules that were being made.  Here’s how it went down:

5 yo:  Hey, guess what! Can I play with you guys?   (He says GUESS WHAT before every sentence… to keep us guessing.)

13 yo: Sure, you can be the target.

(Laughter by two 11 year olds and the smart alec 13-year-old.)

5 yo:  (naively, cluelessly) Ok, what do I do?

13 yo:  You just run around.

5 yo: (innocently, trustingly) OK!

Enter: Mom… and Auntie Linda, as the case may be.  I see the 5-year-old start to run away from the older boys as he says to me, “Auntie Linda, Guess what! I get to be the target!……… OWWW!  Something hit me on the back of my head.  I felt that!” (turning and glaring at the older boys.) Back to me with joy and glee in his big brown eyes, “They are letting me play with them!….. OWWW!” He reaches up to his neck and pulls off a slimy ball of gnawed on paper towel.

Being the mom, I gave a few pointed instructions… to the older boys and then went to water my parched posies. Raising boys is so FUN!

Side note: a nameless son of mine went to sleep over at a friend’s house yesterday.  He had packed a small bag… really small, so I asked what was in there for his overnight adventure.  “A clean shirt and shorts,”  he replied proudly.  That may seem all fine and good IF YOU’RE A BOY!  “Did you pack underwear or socks?”  “NO!  (with an amazed and shocked tone at how stupid my question was) I’m only going for one night!”  The caveman.  Who raised this kid of mine?  Positively Cro-magnon…. the same scivvies and socks two days in a row!  More than likely, he remembered to put straws in the bag.  Sheesh.

Homeschool Science

Science has been a love of mine since I figured out how to work our National Geographic microscope…. it opened up a whole new world for me and my children.  I remember having them look at salt granules nine years ago… they were 2, 4 and 7.  Not much has changed since then… other than all those cute baby teeth falling by the wayside.  They still look through the eye piece with awe.

  Here is Anton after a fresh perm.

We are currently studying the immune system, microscopes and the men that used them.  I’ll admit it…. Anton van Leeuwenhoek is my all time favorite.  The guy was a seller of cloth in Delft, Holland and used a homemade microscope to examine the quality of the weaving.  He also sold ribbon, lace and buttons.  See why he’s my fav?  That’s not all….  I read a story once about his study of lice and he actually kept several living in his sock for days.  Finally they bugged him too much, pun intended, and he removed his little friends.  That story has stuck in my mind for a decade.  Gross me out.

 This was his microscope.

Back to 2010, I sent the boys outside to find some stagnant ground water and fill their little viles.  I knew this would not be an easy task in Phoenix in 86 degree weather.  They set out on their bikes and returned 30 minutes later…. viles full.  Keeve’s contains crystal clear water… well, at least to the naked almost 44-year-old eye.  I’m sure there are little guys swimming in there that we have yet to view under the scope.  Austin, on the other hand, brought back a vile teaming with lime green swimming dots.  Maybe even 40 of them in the tiny vile.  And I can even see them without my reading glasses.  Tomorrow will be their turn under the lamp.  Stay tuned.

We also watched a movie called the Scourge of the Black Death… very uplifting for the first day back from Spring Break.    Keeve found it humorous that the plague reached GERMany.  I never realized that before.  hahahaha.

Gerber Daisy Update

In case you weren’t around on March 9th, the day of the demise of the hot pink Gerber daisy, please go back and read that blog.  Today, March 28th…. I am STILL patiently awaiting the second bloom on the hot pink Gerber daisy plant.   In the past 19 days, it has come this far:

I predict another two weeks.  These flowers are the S L O W E S T…. ever!  But do not be dismayed.  Here is what else is blooming in the backyard at present:

Bougainvillea!  The lame gardener’s sure bet in the desert.  You can hardly kill these vines!  They provide such a delicious burst of color on the block wall.  Phoenicians have taken fences to a new level…. six foot block walls around every blinkin’ yard in new housing developments.   It’s quite private, but ugly without flowers.  And the next flower is nameless…. at least in my head at this moment.  Mom?

And I saved the best for last.  We planted sunflowers!  I love their sunny faces!  We planted them in a huge pot, and with Murphy’s Law, they opened facing the wall and not the house.  So I had to go turn the massive pot…. almost pulled something in my back.  Good grief.  Only one is blooming but there are six more to follow.  They are so happy!

Enjoy the lovely weather!

The Quilted Chair

During Spring Break we took off for Northern California for a week of relaxation at the home of my high school friends.  While there, my friend Connie talked me into helping her recover an old chair with quilts that she was saving for such a time as this.  Neither of us had done reupholstering before, but hey, we can watch youtube instructional videos like the best of ‘em.  And we looked at pictures in a book at JoAnn’s.  Anyway, we succeeded and now I’m addicted to recovering old furniture.  I would love to find a little girl’s plush chair to make over for Zaza’s room.  However, our dear friends also sent us home with several more additions to Zaza’s room…. so a newly recovered chair would be a squeeze for sure.

Here is your photos essay on recovering a chair with old quilts…. something you always wanted to know, I’m quite sure.

Gather as many of your people as possible for tack removal.  This is not a fun job, but most necessary.  BUY the little hoof shaped tool for $7 at JoAnn’s and you won’t be sorry!  We even used most of the old tacks again.

We saved all the batting as it was in decent shape.

We used the old cover as a pattern for the new pieces.

The bottom was really easy…. compared to the top and back!

Connie made miles of welt cord piping cut on the bias for ease of turning corners.

We fluked out and unknowingly used a chair that had these nice wooden pieces on the bottom to hide all our tacks.  Sweet!

The wedding knot on the back looked adorable!

Two different quilts with Grandmother’s Flower Garden pattern were used on the front.  The green piping tied all the quilts together and it is adorable! Can’t you see why I want to do another one?!?

A Sad Sad Week

Last week was perhaps the saddest week of our lives.  We took our 13 year old son to the neuro surgeon to have a consultation and testing regarding his multiple concussions.  This is the son who went to New York and won the fastest skater in the USA out of 1,800 boys his age.  He has played ice hockey since he was six years old.  When he’s not on the ice, he’s on eBay looking at equipment to buy, playing mini-sticks in the loft or in our cul-de-sac playing street hockey.

You guessed it, his ice hockey career is over.  It’s simply too risky.  The doctor told us that he only clears players to play after two concussion IF they are going for a scholarship for college.  Austin has had four, maybe five, concussions and is no longer cleared to play.  We all cried for two days.  It has been his dream to play in the NHL since he wore his Edmonton Oilers diaper shirts.  Last June when Sidney Crosby held Lord Stanley’s Cup above his head, Austin said, “Well, I’ll be the second Crosby to hold it high!” 

Austin is upset but seems to be dealing with it in a fairly grown-up disappointed fashion.  He has started looking into other activities like cycling, flag football, possibly tiddly winks.  Just kidding.  He is super fast on skates so I suggested speed skating… but unfortunately he watched Apolo Ohno… and saw his uniform (read: unitard) and politely declined.  Being his mother, I recommended ping pong or golf or tennis or ribbon dancing….  but no.

My husband took it even harder than Austin did.  Rick loves hockey.  He actually has Hockey Attachment Disorder, which simply means that I’ve been H.A.D.  He has been coaching our boys’ teams for several years, but this year was really great… awesome parents, great kids, unity, FUN, and minimal drama.  I’m thankful we ended on a good note, but sad that my men are so glum. Rick always assumed that he would be coaching his boys until college…. and now it’s over.

It’s not easy being a mom when you see your son’s dream taken from him. It’s not fair.  And there’s no one to blame.  We have been encouraging Austin with the idea that he will now be discovering another sport that he could be excellent at, that he wouldn’t have known about if he continued with hockey.  This is not reassuring to him at this time, but I believe it’s true.  He is a dedicated athlete nonetheless.  I know of no other kid his age who has a self-imposed work out regime like his.  Seriously, he’s ripped at 13!

The old cliché is true once again, when God closes a door, He opens a window.  We’ll be looking through the windows for a while here.

Where oh Where is Zaza?

Did you notice over there  ———————> on the Lilypie counter (that my husband thinks is lame) today is THREE years, THREE months and THREE weeks that we have been waiting for our little girl from Colombia.  That is sad!  She’s been alive this whole time too!  Our prayer is that she has been in a loving family all along, whether it be hers or a foster family. 

It’s hard to wait on both ends. But I think her wait has way more anxiousness tied to it.  Yes, we will then be a family of SIX! and will have a little one in our home again.  It’s been 6 years since a kindergartener lived here!  You forget a lot as parents in that time!  Yet we kind of have an idea of what to expect.  But for Zaza, she will be moving into her forever family, which is awesome!  But she is leaving everything she knows and loves…. her caretakers, her friends, her language, her food, her bed, her country, her clothes, her toys, even people who look like her.  Wow!  Imagine being moved far, far away with people you’ve only known for a month, who don’t really speak your language, and smell funny and want to hug you all the time, and cry when they’re happy, and try to feed you weird food and won’t let you out of their sight!  That would be terrifying for a 5-6 year old little girl.  She is a brave little girl.

Please say a prayer for Zaza today.  3 – 3 – 3!  Too long!

An Irish Blessing

Pioneers

As previously mentioned, I’m working on a high school Arizona History curriculum, you know, in my free time.  Yeah, I’m a nerd.  But if you’ve been around My Sister’s Jar for any amount of time, you know that already.  History books make me salivate.  And old family photos, be still my heritage-loving heart.  Currently I’ve been reading about the pioneer folks who settled AZ… these were people with moxie, hardihood, pluck and mettle.  People of great strength and hardy stock.  Wow.  I read the stories of rivers flooding, houses burning, Indian attacks, unending water hauling and I realize it was an extremely difficult life… then I remember air conditioning wasn’t invented yet, adding another level of intrepidity.  Wow.

Above is a glimpse into my heritage… my Great-great Grandparents and their daughters.  GG Grandpa Bethel crossed the plains and settled in Oregon.  I know I’m partial to these attractive folks, but they seem a bit smarter than those who settled Arizona.  It’s relatively comfortable in Oregon in the summer!  Yes, it rains a lot, but then you don’t have to haul as much water and your vegetables grow into mammoth blue-ribbon-winning beauties.  And yes, there were Indians, but not the Apaches!  Mercy, they were a tough lot.

This picture isn’t dated, but my guess is 1890-something.  Both the daughters were married by 1901.  I’ve foolishly thought that I would have faired well in those times.  The more I read, I’m not so sure.  I love the outdoors, gardening and baking, sewing, being ingenuitive….. but not for survival purposes.  More like for a hobby.

Anyway, I’ll be reading AZ history books for the next nine months, so I’m sure you’ll get more thrilling information that you can pass on to others who don’t really care either.

Desert Beauty

Four years ago we were studying the flowers, plants, animals, landforms, etc. of the Sonoran Desert in which we live.  There was this great activity in our curriculum that explained how to make a desert plant terrarium, so I bought this little round cactus for the enclosed desert botanical garden.  That’s as far as we got with the activity.  Since then, it has been just that… a little round cactus on my kitchen window sill for four years.  Being a cactus, I only water it once a month by setting it in a pan of water for an hour or so.  Then, THIS year, it decided to show off.  This beautiful orange blossom opened a few days ago revealing the true beauty of the desert. WOW!  The flower is only an inch across and the cactus is not quite three inches tall.  Teeny.  Perfect for a little desert terrarium.

Taliesin West

This is the studio/school/home of Frank Lloyd Wright in Scottsdale, Arizona.  It is so beautiful out there!  Enjoy!