I put together a slide show

about my daughter Tegan’s (considerable) contributions to her community during high school.

 

This picture is from the first year.

She made goodies for the Open House.

 

This picture is from this summer.

 

4th of July, 2012

Advertisements

Wordless Wednesday, community garden clean-up edition

The soil is dreadful, and the area's infested with quack-grass, but it has some sun.

The same plot, a couple of hours later. That’s work.

Cleaning up the strawberry bed at the "Little House"

Happy chicken works on the compost.

“Full Darwin” in the laundry.

laundry pile, primus. Gotta love the mops, too.

laundry pile, secundus. This is clean.

So, for those who don’t know, the term “Full Darwin,” as applied to laundry, means the stage where everyone just does a couple of items that are their own personal emergency without supervising a load for the collective good. In a large family, like this one, we “must all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately,” particularly when it comes to housekeeping, so the “Full Darwin” approach just totally doesn’t work. As you see, here.

Nota Bene: I took pictures of other messes, and unmade beds, etc., but that was mostly for my own amusement, because, really, the mess around here is mostly of my making, any given day, and for some reason the children believe enough people read this blog that they’d be “famous” as untidy children. lol.

wrote a poem

a leap of well-considered faith

At 14, long legs change hop-rocking.

The castles and continents of rock

give way to your seven league boots

and the horizon beckons.

Never to have measured yourself

against the mountains of your childhood,

never to have stretched across

the shoals of original magic

is to have missed

Pan’s path

for the worse.

The math I most need is the ability to count my blessings

I went to bed last night around 1am, which, sadly, is not unusual.

I was disposed to feel sorry for myself, because I was a ‘single parent’ for a week, my husband being off on a business trip, and because I was in a fair amount of pain with a TMJ problem, ¬†which my dentist cheerfully assured me was “chronic” and “due to stress” despite the fact that I’d never previously had it.

I mean, come on. You should have to have something go wrong at least TWICE to consider it chronic. That’s my “rage, rage against the dying of the light” POV.

He prescribed me a muscle relaxant (because nothing says taking care of 5 children orthodontia week like ‘new meds that you can’t take while operating heavy machinery’) and I’d obediently attempted to get them filled, because ALL I really wanted was to be prone in my own house, in less pain. Took the 15 minute guarantee Rite-Aid over an hour to come up with a third of the prescription, but I won’t get into that.

After dinner, etc., had massive trouble converting all the MAC files to PC files for Tegan’s school project, and, what with one thing and another, no one got to bed until 1 am.

Woke up to schedule a visit from the geo-thermal drilling guy for 20 minutes later, to get everyone up to be ready for that, to be followed by orthodonist visit, school, etc. etc.

And when I walked into the bathroom, there was a surprise. 2 surprises.

The countertop had been wiped clean, and there was a full, untouched, roll of toilet paper.

This is Countertop Wiper:

He's actually being a Greek mask of Comedy, here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is Toilet Paper Replacer:

Teens get all the sleep they missed as babies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not a single parent, ever. I’m part of a team. A Family.