The day started out leisurely enough. Homeschoolers days often do; If you don't have some class to rush off to first thing, if you are prepared and organized enough, if you don't feel pressure about keeping your house immaculate.
There we sat, the family and I, thinking it would be a nice quiet day at home. We lounged around in our p.j.'s and ate brunch. Dear Man had received a call from his brother asking if he would like to go to the Sportsman's Show. With Dear Man gone the house seemd somewhat empty, but we managed to keep ourselves busy. Then it was brought to my attention that items were needed for 4-H, and for our lapbooking project, and oh yeah, we're out of this and that and you forgot to buy it last time we were in town.
So, off to town we went. Well, not actually OUR town, as Boy 2 fondly calls it, because OUR town is a rather small town and the reason we didn't have those needed items was because OUR town didn't have them. We had to go to the next town about 15 miles away. We did manage to pick up a few things there, but as it usually turns out, I always want the obscure, so we had to head to the Big City, another 15 miles away.
By now I have a raging headache from the noise, the smells and the mass of humanity, and I just wanted to be at home. I like my home, far from society. Nincompoops don't live there. On occasion someone may be brain dead, but they aren't nincompoops.
After dealing with the lunacy of so called socialized people, we finally finished our shopping and headed home. My brain slowly began to unwind as we drove further from Civilization and closer to God's Country. Once home I was still in a rush, as dinner needed to be made, but my head didn't hurt. Dinner had already been thought out, and Dear Man who had beat us home, had prepared some of it.
The night wound down as everyone took up their positions on the couch or floor, and at the table. Each family member actively working on this and that while I began to read aloud, Winterdance, about Gary Paulsen alone on the Alaskan Frontier with his sled dogs. Gary details the madness that drives mushers, of being by themselves in the middle of nowhere. Tonight I think, "That's a madness I could live with." |
Mar. 4, 2006
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Mar. 5, 2006
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Mar. 5, 2006
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Mar. 5, 2006
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Mar. 5, 2006
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ending
Mar. 6, 2006
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Mar. 6, 2006
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Mush
