Spent an incredible day in the Smokies with a fabulous group of homeschoolers.  Our fearless leader took our group of around 17 on the Finley Creek Trail.  The purpose of the trip was to explore several sinkholes which were filled with varying amounts of water.  They are called "vernal springs,"  and they were filled with tadpoles and various egg sacs, including frog and salamander.  The boys had an amazing time.  We also found baby snakes, beetles, spiders and lots of other creepy-crawlies that Joseph adores.  Oh, and millipedes.  Ugg. 

After exploring the area and studying what we might find under rotting logs, we took a lunch break and then hiked a bit on the trail.  Spotted lots of wildflowers, including Squaw Root, Longspur Violets, Hepatica, Foam Flower, Smooth Yellow Violet, and Catesby's Trillium. 

We are by far the wimpiest pseudo-farmers on the planet.  After another day of rooster attacks, my husband woke early,  took the handgun from the lockbox that was covered in an inch of dust, and put an end to our problem.  It was over quickly, at least for the rooster.  Emotion inside the house, though, still runs high.  Gabriel (8) was absolutely hysterical.  Joseph smiled.  The hens were frantic. And I have mixed feelings all around. 

He served his purpose.  He did a  fabulous job of taking care of "his girls."  He lived a good life.  He was well-fed and lived like a king.  But he just couldn't help himself when little Benjamin was around.  It happened again yesterday.  Ben was swinging, and the rooster was in the front of the house.  My parents had stopped by, and my father was sitting in a chair near the swingset, watching Ben.  From out of nowhere, the rooster runs around the house, straight to the swing and begins to jump at Ben.  I heard him screaming from inside the house.  My Dad began to kick him away, but he just kept coming.  It took several blows with a big stick to run the rooster away.  That sealed his fate, I think.  We kept hoping he would magically transform into a kinder, gentler rooster, but it just didn't happen.  

Oh, and by the way,  we couldn't eat him.  We were too sad.  So we just had a quiet burial.  Joe said, "What happens at the end of the world, if we have to kill something to survive.  We'll just starve  to death."   I honestly hope not.  I think at some point my survival instinct (and maternal) would kick in.  

Fell asleep last night to the sound of owls- a Great Horned and a Barred.  If you have never heard one of these guys, Google "owl sounds."   The Barred Owl  sounds a little like a barking dog, and last night it was incessant.  We encountered one of these guys in the woods when we first moved to this house, and it was huge.  Bigger than our then 2-year old.  

Awoke this morning to fresh air in my face and the sound of our rooster crowing.  Determined to get back on track with school, we settled around the kitchen table and I reached for a book from the shelf.  As I pulled it toward me, I felt something moving on my hand.  It was one of Joe's Hissing Cockroaches.  I screamed and jumped around the kitchen and it wouldn't come off.   Joe calmly walked over the took it off my hand, while I hyperventilated in the next room.  I have no idea how it escaped from it's home.  It's not like we take them out and play with them.  So, I am wide-awake and wondering how Cook's Pest Control handles cockroaches from Madagascar?

The rooster struck again yesterday.  Any sudden motion sets him off, and little Joseph (6),  dancing on the back deck, was the recipient this time.  Thankfully, he was able to make it inside.  Tears ensued, then anger, then came the plan.  In a nutshell, Joe decided that when the chicks (some of which are certain to be roosters) are a bit older, we will watch them closely and try to determine which rooster is the kindest.  They know that we can only have one rooster around, otherwise, more violence.  Then, on a beautiful summer day, we will "take him out."  And, as Joe said, "We Will Celebrate!!" 

Some of you may be scratching your heads and asking yourselves why we keep him at all.  Well, the hens free-range, so having this crazy bird around does serve a purpose. He keeps the hens safe, and he keeps them together.  They really aren't very smart, and when he isn't right beside them, they scatter everywhere.  Strength in numbers. And he is a pro at his job.  Cats, dogs, even a recent hawk attack.  But no,  you don't need a rooster if eggs is all you want.  He is completely unnecessary for egg production. 

School work has (almost) come to  a standstill with all these creatures running around.  We have introduced the 4 little hens to the bigger flock, and they are pretty cute, just learning to peck and scratch and give themselves dust baths.  The rooster has already established that he is king, but they're not quite sure what to do when he prances around them.  We initially tried to introduce them to the mama hen and her little chicks, but she puffed up like a balloon and attacked them.  I honestly think she would have killed them if we hadn't intervened.  I guess she sees them as a threat,  though she pays no mind to the other chickens.  School, schmool.  This is the greatest science study I've ever experienced. I think the boys will definitely remember this time with fondness.  

Construction on the New Chicken Coop

We have repeatedly threatened to eat our rooster, but, of course, we have not.  A day or two passes between attacks, and my anger subsides.  Well, no more, my friends. 

It's early Sunday morning.  I could be sleeping.  But no, ever the diligent farmer, I am up, walking into the chicken yard with his food.  It has rained in E. Tennessee for 6 consecutive days, so the pen is a nasty, messy quagmire of funkiness.  I am keeping my eyes on him because he is particularly feisty in the mornings, and when I attempt to walk past (to get to his feeder), he pounces.  Pounce isn't exactly the right word.  Maybe "attack" is better.  I scream (and curse) and throw the food and the bowl at him and land on my backside in the gunk.  My husband is there, of course, laughing, and assures me it's the funniest thing he's ever seen.  Fast forward ten minutes and I'm attempting to feed the Mama Hen and baby chicks.  I am in the yard of the little coop, with the door closed to keep myself safe from HIM, and there HE is, by the door, and I'm stuck.  That's when my husband goes for the camera. 

So that was the start of my Sunday.  How was yours?

Our doting mother hen is now the proud parent to 6 little chicks.   She officially abandoned the other 9 eggs yesterday, and I am attempting to incubate them for a few more days to see if anything happens.  Gee, that makes it sound like I'm sitting on them, but I promise, I'm not.  I'm just using a heat lamp.

Amazingly, those 6 little bodies fit right under her, completely hidden.  One of them likes to climb on her back (a little rooster, I'll bet).  The whole feeding ritual is neat.  After having the chickens for a year, we know their distinctive sounds.  There's the frantic, furious clucking that happens when a hen lays an egg (and the noise the rooster makes in reply) and the little throaty clucks they make when they want out in the morning.  The rooster has his "herd em up" noise which makes the hens come running, his "there's a hawk" noise, and of course, "The Official Crow" (which, thankfully, comes much later than dawn and instead occurs periodically throughout the day).  But the Mama Hen is making a new noise these days.  When I put food in the pen for her and the chicks,  she sounds a frantic clucking that brings the chicks out, and then, in a frenzy, tears up whatever food I have placed in the cage into bite-size pieces for the little ones.  It's great. She's so wonderfully maternal.  I wonder how long it lasts?       

The goats have quickly acclimated to their new environment.  They literally frolick around the yard, jumping and head-butting each other.  They eat in the woods, and they keep a watchful eye on the boys.  They like to keep us in their sights.  They're very, very noisy.  Busybodies.  When a car pulls into the drive, you see their little heads peek around the corner to see who's there.  The boys named them Clarabelle and Kelly Nelly.

I dreamed of baby chicks last night.  I have been mentally calculating how many days our hen has been on the nest, and I just kept getting 21 days.  We were beginning to wonder if our rooster was maybe infertile, but no, he has earned his keep.  Gabe, Ben and myself  went out to feed the goats this morning and I heard a "peep, peep" from the chicken coop.  Babies!!   The nest is up high in the coop, and 2 little ones had fallen to the ground.  Gabe gently picked them up, and the hen quickly pushed them back under her.  

Since the nest is off the ground, we decided to move the entire thing into our greenhouse.  We recently bought a dog crate that we were using to transport the goats, but it has now been transformed into a chicken brooder.  Gabe gently picked up the hen, then the chicks, then the eggs.  One of the eggs had a chick emerging!  Gabe swooned, and I thought he was going to pass out in the chicken house (I had flashbacks of my husband when Gabe was being born!).  Long story short, they are firmly ensconced in the dog crate, hen on her nest, babies peeking out, eggs hatching, with a tarp thrown over the top for good measure (and privacy).  We are very proud of our diligent hen.  Who would have imagined that our baby chick from last spring (our sole survivor of the racoon attack) would now be a mama?  I'll post pictures soon!!

Oh, and we did get the goats.  Two does, both newly pregnant.  They are very strong-willed.  They love the boys, and they are great escape artists.  And very, very wary of our dog. 

And on a side note, for you gentlemen farmers like us,  who are experiencing all this for the 1st time.  The hen has only left her nest 4 or 5 times in the 21 days, and when I say leave, I mean only for a few minutes at a time.  She would gulp down water and gobble food, then hurry back.  The really neat thing, though, is the fact that when she would get up, the Plymouth Rock hen would rush in and sit on the nest until the other one returned.  Gabe said,  "That's just so beautiful.  She's like their aunt."  I think she must have added an egg or two to the nest, but whatever.  It's all very cool. 

After we put the boys to bed last night, we were flipping through channels and settled on something that was coming on The Travel Channel.  There was a warning before the show aired that said "This program contains indigenous nudity."   I couldn't stop laughing.  I know, I know.  National Geographic-type nudity.  But we have plenty of that around here.  Especially before and after bathtime, when the natives get a little silly.  So I guess we have  a new word for what is a daily occurence around our house.    

Oh, and Joseph wanted me to be sure to include a note on his new pets.  In addition to the hermit crabs (2 of the 3 have now passed on- we buried them tonight), he also brought home Madagascan Hissing Cockroaches.  My sister-in-law is a teacher, and a co-worker who teaches science had a roach that had just given birth. Yuck, right?   Well, Joseph wanted these guys for Christmas, but they were like $40 each on the Internet, and I just didn't want to fork over that kind of money for a roach.  Well, God does answer prayers, because she just called us up before we left for the trip and asked if he was interested.  They are little guys, and super-easy to care for (much easier than chickens, cats or children).  We'll keep everyone updated on their progress.      

I can't stand it.  Being in Texas and enjoying all the fresh produce and the warm weather pushed me out of my winter doldrums and I want to plant things.  I had ordered seeds before we left, and they were waiting on me when we returned.  We planted lettuce today, plus broccoli and cabbage.  I have started my tomatoes, eggplant, and peppers, with the herbs still to plant tomorrow. 

When we returned from our trip, the white hen, Penelope, was acting strange and not willingly leaving the hen house.  The boys were sure she was sick, but I thought otherwise, and since I am the expert on poultry behavior (hee, hee), I was right.  She is sitting on a nest of eggs.  Since we were gone for 2 weeks, I'm not sure how long she has been on them,  so we are hoping and praying that at least one hatches.  It's pretty exciting (at least for us chicken lovers).  I never imagined that the baby chick we bought last spring would be sitting on her own nest this year.  Ain't nature grand? 

We are also in the process of acquiring 2 young female Nubian goats.  I'm a little apprehensive, since I've just gotten comfortable with the chickens, but how hard can they be?  No, don't tell me if you have horror stories.  They're so cute.

We have just returned from a 2-week visit to the great state of Texas.  Husband hadn't been "home" in 2 1/2 years, so the visit was long overdue.  The boys didn't really remember last visiting, so we knew it was time.  The drive was horrendous- 20 hours.  I am grateful for the mini-van the in-laws gifted us last fall.  It made the drive easier, but still- 20 hours.  

We left at noon on Sat. Feb. 23.  Gabe played his last Upward Basketball game, and we then hit the road.  We drove as far as we could, and we spent the night in Baton Rouge, LA.  Sunday lunch found us in Orange, Texas, where we enjoyed opening day of crawfish season at the Cajun Cookery.  The etouffee was unreal.  This would be the 1st of many gastronomic adventures on this vacation.  Husband gained 5 lbs., wife gained 3.  Benjamin decided that he wanted to see the crawfish up-close and personal, so rather than obey his screaming mama, he headed into the creek that ran in front of the restaurant.  He stopped when the thick, stinking mud was up to his calves.  He shouted, "Help me. I'm in sink-sand (quick-sand)."  It would have been funny except we still had 10 hours to go, and we smelled him the entire way.   

 Husband's family lives in Brownsville, TX.  5 minutes from the Mexican border, 20 minutes from South Padre Island.  We spent our 1st afternoon at Boca Chica, an isolated beach on the Gulf of Mexico.  Since it borders the Rio Grande and Mexico,  Border Patrol agents are quite noticeable, and you are forced to stop at a check-point on the way out to declare your citizenship.  We enjoyed playing in the ocean, fishing,  and Grandpa Angel's new four-wheeler.

 Day Two found us visiting the Gladys Porter Zoo, while Gabe went antique shopping in Harlingen with Grandma Thelma and my mom, who made the trip with us.   Since we couldn't cross over to Mexico (we didn't bring our birth certificates) we shopped in Brownsville's old downtown, which is basically like a little border town.  Trinkets and junk, mostly.  The boys go nuts in these places, but I seem to have trained them pretty well as of late.  They look at the label, and when they realize it 's made in China, not Mexico, they say, "Oh, little kids probably made this stuff."  Or "It's probably made with lead."  Oh, the joys of socially-conscious children.   We visited a little, hole-in-the-wall hamburger joint called the Rutledge that husband frequented with his grandfather when he was a kid.  It was definitely the smallest restaurant I've ever seen.  Spent the afternoon with Angel's Tio Sergio and Tia Ninfa, eating amazing pastries from Los Ebanos Bakery.

Later that day, we drove to Port Isabel, which is the gateway to South Padre Island.  We always eat at a seafood joint called the Last Galleon, which sits by the entrance to the causeway bridge that leads to the island.  The fried flounder is too-die-for.  We were so disappointed to find that they no longer serve local fish!!!  The fish comes from China.  Isn't  that crazy?  It's cheaper to import fish from China rather than pull it from the ocean in front of you!!   Also visited with Angel's Aunt Maggie and Tio Ruben.  He owns a fleet of shrimping boats that have nearly been put out of business due to our trade restrictions and agreements with countries (like China).

We learned that these flamingos are born white and get their color from the type of shrimp they eat.  Because the zoo cannot afford to import the shrimp, they dye the shrimp with red food coloring so the flamingos will get their distinctive color!  Just doesn't sound right, does it?  We also enjoyed the kangaroos with their joeys, and the boys were able to feed cockatoos and parakeets in the bird exhibit.

We were thrilled with our in-laws back yard.  They have an orange tree, a banana tree, and a mango tree, all of which were bearing fruit. 

 Wednesday was another activity-filled day.  Bought the boys hermit crabs.  Visited the Palo Alto National Battlefield, then drove to Los Fresnos to look at a piece of property that my husband's folks had purchased, and picked up their camping trailer while we were there.  Gabe and Grandpa Angel drove the camper out to South Padre Island so we could spend a few nights there during our visit.  Had dinner again in Port Isabel, but this time we ate at a place that does serve local fish- the Pelican Bay, which is run by husband's cousin-in-law.  Went for a late-night walk on the beach.  We saw a huge Jackrabbit (Joseph said, "It's a little deer!!").  Benjamin ran right up to it and I thought he was going to pick it up.  It bolted, though, and a chase ensued.  He chased it over a sand dune and then we heard screams.  He fell on top of a cactus!! I spent the next several hours picking needles out of his legs and arms. 

Spent the next morning fishing on the jetties and enjoying the dolphins frolicking in the Gulf.   The entire week we were visiting was billed "Charro Days,"  and it was a weeklong celebration of Texas-Mexican heritage, with parades, dances and a carnival.  Great fun and more great food.   Saturday was a full-day as well.  Returned to Palo Alto Battlefield (the 1st major battle of the U.S.-Mexican War was fought there) and witnessed a reenactment, complete with cannon fire.  Very cool.  Celebrated husband's 36th birthday with a large family reunion hosted by his parents.  Family from around the area convened on their home, and we feasted on brisket and loads of fixins'.    

 Family traditions that my husband experienced growing up are sorely missed, and since we weren't going to be around for Easter, we celebrated early with confetti eggs.  You can't find them in Tennessee.  The kids (and adults) enjoyed it tremendously.

Left for home on Monday March 3.  Husband wanted to take the boys to see the places where he spent time growing up, and also to travel through some of the bigger cities in Texas.  We made our first stop in Hebronville, where his mother grew up, and we visited the cemetary where her parents are buried. 

Spent Monday night in San Antonio, TX.  It was freezing there, but we braved the low temps and enjoyed the River Walk and the Alamo

We next traveled to Austin, TX, then on to Fort Worth, the city where Angel and I met in 1997 and married in 1998.  Gabe was also born there is 1999.  Angel proposed to me back then at a Macaroni Grill.  He had taken his guitar in earlier in the day, and after dinner, a waiter brought out the guitar, Angel stood up, played me a song he had written, then dropped to his knee and proposed.  Surreal.  People were clapping and whistling and taking pictures.  Fast forward 10 years.  Our 10th anniversary is next week.  The hotel we had booked in Fort Worth was just down the street from this same Macaroni Grill.  When Angel and Benjamin went out to pick up dinner, he went by the restaurant and again left the guitar.  After dinner,  my Mom encouraged us to go out, so he said, "Let's go back to the Macaroni Grill for a glass of wine."  I agreed, and after a bit,  I noticed Angel nodding to the waiter, and out comes the guitar.  He plays me the same song and asks me if I'll spend 10 more years with him.  Pretty amazing stuff.  Our waiter said, "I was sweating with you, man.  I'm about to propose to my girlfriend too."  And Angel said,  "Well, after 3 kids, I wasn't so sure she'd say "Yes" again."  We drove around town and revisited our old haunts.  Everything had changed, but it was great reconnecting with the city.

So all-in-all, it was a great trip.  A visitation, not a vacation, because we certainly didn't come home rested.  In fact, after that night in Fort Worth, the boys were begging to go home.  So we drove 15 hours and made it home late Wednesday night.   Joe said, "It feels so good to be home.  I'm gonna hug that mean old rooster when I see him!"

We're really, truly still alive.  We struggled through December- 2 birthdays and Christmas do me in for a while, and it's taken me this long to get back into the swing of things. 

The boys are growing by leaps and bounds.  We outfitted Gabe (now 8) in new clothing in the fall, but he has grown several inches over the last 3 months, and everything is too small, so a winter shopping spree is soon to come.  Apparently, a size 3 shoe in children's equates to about a 5 in women's sizes, because my Mom's Timberland hiking boots fit him perfectly!!   Joe (6) is all arms and legs, and has taken an interest in dancing lately.  He jumps into the air and lands in a full split, twists his body into unimaginable positions (he is super-flexible) and makes up dance moves and gives them names, like "The Pretzel" or "The Backwards Man."

Home construction is at a stand-still, though we are far from finished.  Plans are  underway to add on to the chicken house, possible building a run and another larger house for more hens.  We can't keep up with the demand for eggs. 

Our rooster, Telemachus, has provided much entertainment of late.  The boys discovered, quite by accident, that he will chase a soccer ball across the yard.  When rolled in front of him, he runs up to it, kicks it, chases it, and kicks it until it's out of his way.  I guess he sees it as a threat to "his girls,"  as the boys call the hens.  

Our chickens were also the recipients of a vicious hawk attack several weeks ago.  I was sitting at the kitchen table when I spotted a flurry of activity from the corner of my eye.  I turned and saw an enormous hawk struggling with one of our small hens.  I hit the window, then ran outside, screaming like a mad-woman.  The hawk didn't let go until I was within 8-10 feet of her (it was so big- we think it was a female).  The hen survived, but is now missing most of her tail feathers.  Well, the rooster was frantic.  The other hens must have run  for the woods when the hawk attacked, and 2 of them came back  within the hour, but the other 3 went missing for several hours.  The boys were certain that they had been attacked as well.  Logically, it didn't make sense, but we searched and searched, to no avail.  We gave up and went inside.  I was researching hawks on the computer when I heard the rooster, making funny noises, and we ran onto the porch and saw him running down into the neighbor's yard, where his girls were emerging from the woods.  He chased them back into our yard, straight into the chicken coop.  It was quite dramatic.  Gabe said, "Mom, I think I'm gonna cry.  He sure loves his girls."

We are planning a long-awaited Texas trip for late Feb./early March.  Angel hasn't been home to see his extended family in almost 3 years.  It's a 19-hour drive, not exactly a picnic with young children, but the boys are super-excited.  We'll make stops along the way, and hopefully get to spend some time at the beach on South Padre Island.  I am looking forward to Gulf shrimp, though.

Home construction is eating me alive!!!!   The small amount of private space I did have has been temporarily snatched away, and I am just getting by every day.  The boys new bedroom was complete about a month ago, and the following day, Angel informed me that the contractor was free for the next several weeks and could begin on the bathroom.  Our current bathroom needs to be completely gutted because the floor is rotten underneath from water damage.  So we have decided to turn our current bath into a laundry room, and then make the boys old bedroom into a master bath, with a study in the middle (not connected to the master) and another full bath where there was once a closet.  I know, it's hard to imagine, but it's turning out great.  Although my attitude has definitely not been so great.  Trying to home school with this mess is just mind-boggling.  But I am blessed, so blessed, to even have a home when there are people living on the streets in my own city.  So I'll just shut up before I dig myself into a deeper hole.

We have spent so much time (and money) at Lowe's and Home Depot that the employee's know us by name (and sadly, most likely cringe when they see us coming).   But it is a great learning experience for the boys.  Little Benjamin has personally been involved in every aspect of this construction.  I saw him pat the contractor on the arm the other day and tell him that he was doing a good job.  He carries around a level and a hammer in his belt.  I came into the new bathroom a few nights ago because I heard a muffled cry for help.  I found Angel inside the ceiling, running electrical, with Benjamin on top of a ladder, handing him supplies.  Unfortunately, Angel was stuck.  So instead of immediately pulling him out, I ran for the camera, and this is what I saw. 

The construction was due to be finished about a week ago, and it looks like we maybe have another week to go.  We put up the Christmas tree and have decorated, despite the drywall dust.  The boys participated in a Christmas parade (their 1st time riding on a float).  Ben was a natural.  He was waving and shouting, "Merry Christmas" like a beauty pageant contestant (or a politician).  We also attended the Old-Fashioned Christmas celebration, which is held every year at the Visitor's Center in the Great Smoky Mts. National Park.  I have been going since I was a little girl, and the boys love it.  We made wreaths from natural flora and fauna, plus pine cone bird feeders, and enjoyed listening to mountain music and storytelling.  We have baked cookies (drywall dust included) and read tons of Christmas stories.  Our new church (www.redeemerknoxville.org) emphasizes the celebration of Advent, and though we have always done Advent calendars, we have never formally celebrated and lit the candles and talked about the meaning behind it all.   We are thoroughly enjoying it this year.  Also looking forward to a few weeks off from formal schooling.  

So how's the leaf show in your town?  Things here in East Tennessee have been a bit of a disappointment this year.  The super-dry weather this summer and fall was probably to blame.  We took a trip over the mountain to Cherokee, NC, last week, and the colors were nice on top of the mountain, but little to photograph.   We visited Mingus Mill, which was gorgeous, due to the mist and fallen leaves, then Oconaluftee, which is a living history museum that focuses on Cherokee life prior to the Trail of Tears.  The boys loved the tour.  They were especially fascinated with the sweat lodge.  Gabe was carsick after the slow, curvy drive back home, and he commented that he needed to spend some time in a sweat lodge, "sweating out my impurities."  

    Mingus Mill, Cherokee, North Carolina 

Joe at the Sweat Lodge

Skipped enrichment classes last week to see Slim Goodbody at the Bijou Theater.  Anyone remember Slim from The Captain Kangaroo Show?   It's still the same man, many years older, still slim and with a good body.  The boys thought it was really cool, and it made me wistful for my childhood.  

We have continued to volunteer at a local nursing home, and our 4-H group recently became involved as well.  We helped the residents wrap shoeboxes for Samaritan's Purse, and then filled them with girl or boy items to send to underprivileged children for Christmas.  We also played Bingo with the residents one recent afternoon.  It's neat to see how being with these folks has changed my boys (particularly Gabe).  I remember the discomfort on their faces when someone would ask them their name over and over, but now, Gabe just says, "You know me, Miss ___.  You see me every week."  And she'll just smile and say, "Oh, yes, I remember now."  I jokingly tell them that they are in training for when I get old, but I'm not really joking.  So many of those folks literally get abandoned by their families, and it breaks my heart to think about being cared for by total strangers at the end of my life.  Anyhow, enough of that.  

Halloween was a candy extravaganza.  We've never really gone trick-or-treating, but this year, the boys went to a big neighborhood with a couple of friends.  They came home with several pounds each.  Yuck!  I still haven't decided what to do with it all.  I'm too chicken to just toss it.  I'm thinking of doing some sort of trade.  Though Joe would rather keep the candy.  No matter how good the trade. 

The Boys in their Costumes

Angel had a show several nights before Halloween, and the theme of the night was "Hallowqueen,"  so they dressed-up like the band Queen and did cover songs.  I decided to go as a 1950's prom queen.  It was exhausting.  My shoes hurt and the half a can of hair lacquer to keep my beehive up was enough to get me through several more Halloweens.  And people kept asking Angel if he was the Burger King.

The King and Queen

Has anyone been out comet spotting?  We went to the Physics Building on the University of Tennessee campus Friday night for the Comet Watching Party.  I was blown away by all the people there.  The professors were so great.  It made me want to be a student again.  Benjamin had decided  that he wanted to be an astronaut and was pretty amazed by what we saw.  Until the car ride home.  He asked (rather quietly for him), "What happens when astronauts want to come home."  And I said, "Hopefully, they re-enter our atmosphere and make it home safely."  Then Joe chimed in.  "Ben, if you don't make it back, it's ok.  You're just that much closer to Jesus."  I couldn't help laughing, and Ben no longer wants to be an astronaut.   

My in-laws arrived from TX last Thursday to gift us with a mini-van,  a 2003 Dodge Caravan.   My father-in-law woke up one morning and told his wife that he had a dream about it, and he felt like God was saying, "Just do it."  We already have 2 cars in good working order, but we couldn't say no.  Our old Suburban drinks gas like I guzzle coffee, so we are attempting to make the transition.  It's a quirky van, though.  The locks and the alarm system are super-sensitive.  If anyone happened to be at Parkway Drive-in on Saturday night, yes, that was us causing the commotion.  Apparently, you can't have any doors open and the radio going at the same time, otherwise the alarm begins to sound.  Lights flashing, siren- the whole nine yards.  Very embarrassing.  Needless to say, my husband yanked a wire and put an end to the drama, but the darn thing reset itself so now it's my fun to deal with.  But I'm complaining.  It truly is a blessing.  And I'll be much more grateful when we figure out it's quirks.  

Took a trip to Chattanooga (my kids love that city) with the in-laws as they were on their way out of town, and while we were gone, our Internet mysteriously disappeared.  We were online before we left, and we could tell that we were getting Internet with our modem, but nothing was happening.  Life without e-mail?  I thought I was going crazy for a few days.  Several times I walked into my room, sat down at the computer, and attempted to log on, only to remember that the darn thing wasn't working. After an entire week, my hubby discovered that for some reason, we had 3 firewalls, and they were conflicting, resulting in life without the Web.  I can live without my cell phone.  I can live without an iPod.  But no Internet.  No Way!

Took an autumn hike with my parent's and the boys today.  What was to be a pleasant 3-mile excursion ended up being almost 5 miles.  Joe (6) was the ultimate trooper.  No complaints at all.  But little Ben (3) and Gabe (7).  Man, you would have thought we were marching through the Sahara.  Little Ben kept asking when we were gonna get to the hotel.  And Gabe just whined.  Incessantly.   My great-grandfather is buried in the Old Sugarlands Cemetary, near the Visitor's Center in the Great Smoky Mts. National Park, and the youngest 2 boys had never been there.  We took an alternate route that my folks thought would be easier and quicker, but they miscalculated and it was way longer than we anticipated.  So my Dad hiked back to the car, which was parked on Cherokee Orchard Road, and my Mom and I hiked with the boys along the river, back to the Visitor's Center.  We spotted 3 bears and several funky salamanders, so it was worth it, but it was a long day.

The boys new bedroom (converted from part of our attic) is almost complete.  Living with lots of drywall dust and piles of construction junk outside, but we'll survive.  We just might have a bit of privacy when they move upstairs.  But I have enjoyed the closeness.  When someone wakes up at night, I don't have far to go.  When they move up, though, it will be quite a trek to comfort someone in the middle of the night. 

Beginning Construction in Attic of House 

Our Autumn Display

Incline Railway in Chattanooga- that's Joe hidden  under his hat

My husband after the ride on the Incline Railroad-   it must be genetic

Point Park- on Lookout Mountain, Chattanooga,

Outside the Chattanooga Choo-Choo Hotel

Creative Discovery Museum

Life has been blissfully uneventful for the past few weeks.  And that's pretty remarkable around here.  The boys began enrichment classes in early September.  Gabe and Joe are taking Art and Hands-on Science, while Benjamin is enjoying Preschool Bible Fun and Book Cooks.  And school at home is going well too.  I think Gabe is finally beginning to appreciate the fact that what his public-school friends do all day can actually be accomplished in just a few hours at home.  And when he sees the bus roll by at 4pm, he invariably says, "I can't believe those guys are just getting home." 

We have started construction again on the house.  After a refinance, we have completed a storage building in the back and the contractor is upstairs as we speak, pounding away at what will soon become the boy's new bedroom.  Yippee!!  We have had such close quarters since we moved into this old house.  I'm looking forward to a little bit of breathing room.  We are also hoping to build a new garage with a studio apartment above, for in-law visits (or maybe just Mommy's hideaway?).

Today is Joseph's 6th birthday.  We are celebrating on Saturday, but I still wanted the day to be special, so we made him breakfast in bed (cinnamon rolls, bacon, and eggs, with a candle to blow out).  He enjoyed being pampered.  He also opened a present (a PSP2 game), so he and Gabe have decided to take the day off from school and just veg.  Meanwhile, I will be spending the afternoon frantically cleaning the house in preparation for Grandma and Grandpa's visit.  They arrive tonight.  They called a few weeks ago and let us know that they had sold a tract of land and wanted to bless us.  They bought a mini-van a few years ago and want something new, so they are gifting us the mini-van and buying a new car while they are here.  Cool, huh!! 

We received 3 new chickens as a gift from a fellow homeschooler, so we now have 6 hens and 1 beastly rooster.  The new hens are really odd-looking-  the mom was a Red Rhone(?) and the dad was a Bantam Rooster, so they are small, blackish-red birds that look a bit like black-birds.  They don't really mix with the other hens, and the rooster can't dominate them too much because they fly pretty well and tend to keep away from the others.  We have decided not to name them.  It's a new farm rule.  Too much hurt and heartache when something happens (and it invariably does).  Oh, those darn life lessons.   

The turtle in this picture is tiny.  That's a Hot Wheel airplane behind him.  He is very special because, early in the summer, Ben and I ran over him with the big riding mower.  Somehow, he escaped without getting chopped to pieces.  We kept him for a few days, and before releasing him, we painted a few drops of red nail polish on his back, in case we ever saw him again.   Fast forward 3 months.  The boys run into the house, screaming that he had returned. He stayed for a few days, and then escaped from his container.  Joe cried and cried, but we hope to see him again someday.

Visit to the Orchard (where the apples were virtually non-existent this year)

Joe's Birthday Cake

Gabe:  8:00 am- very sleepy, rubbing his eyes as he walks into the kitchen-  "Mom, is it Sunday?" 

Me:  "No, Gabe, it's Saturday.  Why?"

Gabe:  In a whiny, sleepy voice- "Because Dad is speaking Spanish."

From time-to-time, we have done Spanish-only weekends, so that the boys can at least understand the language.  Gabe took Spanish last year at our co-op, but loathed going.  So now, when Angel attempts to teach him,  Gabe balks.  I learned my lesson- I never should have made him take that second semester of Spanish.  Now my son wants nothing to do with the language.  Oh, regrets. 

Gabe:  still sleepy- 8:15 am  "Come on Dad, let's wrestle.  Mom can be the jeferee."

Me:  "Gabe, what's a jeferee." 

Gabe:  "Mom, you know, like sports. A jeferee."

After returning home last night after my first book club experience, I found the house empty and the animals hungry.  The boys were still away at the fair, so I decided to do their chores for them and feed the animals.  When I went into the greenhouse, I immediately noticed that one of our cats was physically inside the big plastic tub we use to store the food.  I had secured the lid earlier in the day because the racoon has been lurking again.  I scooted the cat away, filled the food bowls, and replaced the lid.  I noticed that one of the door leading outside was open, so I walked over to close it.  As I turned around I  quite literally felt something staring at me from above (it's was very strange feeling).  I slowly turned around, and to my immediate right, standing on the back of a couch, was the racoon.  It was at least 2 times bigger than a cats.  And it was staring right at me.  

Of course, I screamed, and someone probably heard me in the next county.  I bolted for the door leading to the back of the house, slammed it, then ran into the house.  It was trapped!!  I called the dog and let her in, but by this time the coon had hidden under something and was out of sight.  I grabbed the pellet gun but couldn't remember what to do with it (that doesn't bode well for me if we are ever robbed).  And I sat by the door and waited for my husband to return.     

Fast forward 3 hours.  The have returned from the fair, and I now am quite experienced with a pellet gun.  But the coon is still with us. 

I surrender.   

Angel came home and he waited there for almost an hour, moving things around and trying to scare the coon out of hiding, but to no avail.  He gave up and came inside.  We left one of the doors open so he could make his escape.  About an hour later, I noticed that the light was still on in the greenhouse, and when I peeked out the door, there was the coon, feeding with the cats.  The audacity of that guy!!  And when I opened the door, he nonchalantly scittered away.  I closed the door and turned out the lights.    

As the night progressed, I kept hearing odd noises, but one of the cats was inside the greenhouse, so I chalked it up to a mouse chase.  When I went out the next morning to let out the cat, I found a shelf overturned, animal poop everywhere, and even a wall by the door with drywall ripped apart!!  Another racoon must have been trapped inside over the night.  I hurried back inside to let it make it's escape, then spent a good part of the morning cleaning up the mess.  Our animal trap never worked, so I am getting desperate.   Suggestions?  

I love to hear my kids pray.  I guess because it's something that we've always done, they just automatically drop their heads, fold their hands, and get very serious (mostly).   Their prayers can be incredibly profound (in a childlike way), and tend to reflect what we have discussed during the day and the things that are going on in our lives.   I also cherish them because they are reminders of things I would never think to pray about.  A recurring prayer for Gabe is this: "Dear God, please protect the astronauts.  Don't let them get too close to the sun and die."   He has been praying that for several years, and as far as I know, God has answered that one!  Friends of ours are in the midst of a divorce, so recent prayers reflect an attempt to understand why, and he prays that, "...even though I don't like to see Mommy and Daddy kiss, please let them always kiss so they stay married."   

On our camping trip, the boys met another little boy who was camped with his family, and they formed an instant friendship.  They played at the edge of the water, and we overheard much of their conversation.  They talked about where they lived and what they liked to do.  Gabe asked Trent (6) if he had ever  been camping, and Trent said, "Sure, all the time."  Gabe said, "Well, it's our first time.  My Mom doesn't like to be dirty."  They also talked about movies.  Gabe is hyper-aware of movie ratings, and knows that most PG movies and all PG-13 are off-limits.  He leaned over to Trent and kind of whispered in his ear-
"Have you ever seen a PG-13 movie?"  Trent said, "Yeah, I snuck into my aunt's van and watched a really scary movie."  Gabe said, "Did you tell your Mom?"  Trent said, "No way!"  Joe stands up, looks at him, points his finger, and says loudly, "God says that's not right."  And Gabe said, "I would definitely tell my Mom if I were you." 

We laughed and laughed because their comments were so characteristic of their personalities.  Joe is extremely moral.  Whatever I tell him he not only believes but lives out.  He believes that God means business and whatever He says goes. Modern-day prophet, perhaps?  And Gabe, who is extremely sensitive (to scary stuff as well as any sin he commits), tells me every little thing that gets into his head or bothers him.  It can be overwhelming at times, but his conscience is so tender that he can't stand to keep anything inside.  It was neat to know that something we have taught them has stuck in their little hearts.  

We studied ancient Greece last semester, and we spent quite a bit of time talking about myths and the gods the Greeks worshipped.  I think the boys were feeling a little superior about the fact that they worship "the one true God,"  and the Greeks had a different god for everything.  Joe would pray, "God, please let those people try to worship just the one God because it's just too confusing to pray to all those other guys."  And after reading The Odyssey, he prayed, "God, please let Odysseus get home to Penelope.  She must be so lonely without her husband."     

Little Ben has started to open-up more during prayer time and wants his turn too.  He often prays for Elvis (the boys think of Elvis in an iconic kind of way- I'm not sure why- we're not big fans). He prays that Elvis will stop taking drugs and not die again (he loves Elvis' music and just doesn't get the fact that he's not around anymore)  He's all about bad guys and blood and guts and typically prays protection for our home and safety from our marauding rooster (he has attacked Angel and come at me 3 times). 

I don't know how long their openness to praying with us will last.  Growing up, we never, ever prayed as a family, so I have no frame of reference for how it will evolve.  My prayer, though, is that they feel comfortable and safe and that it never ends.  Our spirituality is so fragile and so easily crushed.  I want to nurture that openness in them, because I know the days of questioning will come.  Hopefully, though, they will be well-equipped and will always return to their foundation.