Posts

Showing posts from August, 2011

Explorers

Image
We are explorers. We are discovering. At least we hope that is what we are doing. . .
The children are discovering the littlest berries and egg shells and feathers and letters and words and chapter books! Amelia has now made friends with Laura Ingles Wilder and her dog Jack. She knows Stuart Little and Jack and Annie in the Magic Tree house. George Wilder will spell anything Amelia tells him to and he is full of imaginative stories.
And we love numbers. The bigger the better. If we make a word problem for the children involving eggs and hens, they can solve it!






(A mayner cow. The cow can swim. It can run, it can jump. It can go to a farmer's marketand lots of people are there and it scares him but he likes it because it's fun.)
George is researching and collecting words and letters. He collects from students and philosophers and thinkers. He figured out how to build a zip line and a set of monkey bars under the shade trees. He's found a new way to play the guitar and it is suc…

Waiting for the rain . . .

Image
Rain brings relief. Rain brings water. Rain cools. Rain saturates. Rain is beautiful. We've had no rain. We've had heat. I even feel sorry for the crackly brown grass that can't reach roots deep enough to dangle in the deep deep water.
And the air conditioning takes on a new meaning. It is life, it is cool, it is relief. This is the end of July and early August in Georgia. There is a waiting. A waiting for school, a waiting for rain, a waiting for cool air and shorter days. So while we wait, I pray for ideas. A few emerge. Not new ones, just borrowed ones from other moms We dye yarn, we create fossils, we have friends over for a barbeque, and we hang clothes out to dry. We get some sheep, yes sheep. Three. They are called hair sheep. They don't have wool but they are good for milk and meat and they are cute to pieces. Finally, we head to the farm for reunion weekend. We prepare food and games and ourselves. We sit and play under the sun and drink buckets of water.












We re…

Waiting for the rain . . .