Twisted Sister in Christ

Oct. 9, 2008 - Giant Leopard Moth

This morning I found a large - 2 inches worth of caterpillar at the back door. I touched it to see if it was dead. When it curled up, I thought this would be interesting for the boys. So I brought it in on the frisbee, sat down here at the computer, and typed in big black and red caterpillar. I found a great article at www. hiltonpond.org that showed the stages this caterpillar will go through on its way to morphing into a Giant Leopard Moth.

As I'm reading the research on this critter, Rocketboy joins me to say "Good morning', and "It looks dead."

He then asked, "Is it pokey or soft?"

I stroked my finger over it again. Getting no response in movement, I said,"It's soft, but yeah, probably dead or hibernating." I had just read that on the website.

Then the next thing I read is about some black caterpillars that their hair can be like needles which scrapes the skin, and by that method injects the poor soul who was stupid enough to touch it with something like a bee sting. AAAAAAAAAHHHH. I ran for the bathroom to run water over my finger and scrape downward to get any little hairs off of me.

Running back to the computer, I quickly read down the page as it told about the stinging, tingling, hurting feeling that can be experienced. Then as I read a bit farther, I find that the Giant Leopard Moth isn't one of those kind of caterpillars. Phewww!

So, now we have a new critter in the house. A two inch long caterpillar that is trying to sleep through the cold months so that it can come out as a beautiful white with black spots moth. It has moved, since I put it into the tadpole container with a sampling of leaves from our back yard. We at least know it is alive.

As my hubby would say. We lose one, we gain one.

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Oct. 8, 2008 - Mean ole' Chickens

It happened again. A baby chick was killed by the others last night. I found Momma Quartz in the run with Mumpsy when I went out to feed this morning. Rushing into the coop, I found the adults all sitting on the edge of the tub where I clamped the heating lamp. In the middle of the tub was little R-Wing. (Rocketboy had changed the name when Herogian offered the bird to him as his own.) THis is the second time that Rocketboy has had a baby chick killed by the others.

Yesterday, Panda attacked Herogian while he was target praciticing in the back yard. Herogian - came in upset - needing to shoot the last bb's out of the gun. I'm surprised he didn't let them loose on the rooster. Herogian is too soft of a heart to do that though, especially since it's not rooster season. I had to lock the rooster in the coop so Herogian could finish his practicing. Panda is getting really testy. If we didn't need him to help protect the ladies from the predators in the surrounding woods, he'd be dinner.

Last night at our local Homeschool meeting, three ladies gave advice on homeschooling through high school. It was a great meeting. I came home with a few ideas of how to adjust our program so the boys learn more skills for studying on their own. I'm glad I took a Teacher Inservice Day today to revamp our schedule a bit, and give the boys time to refresh after the coop incident.

THanks for visiting, Twisted

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Oct. 5, 2008 - A job responsibility chart that is actually working

Somebody out there must be stressing about getting job responsibilities done with their kids. I have no idea why I felt compelled to share this tonight.

Back in June I found "The Fridge Grid" at www.busybodybook.com

THe first column list days of the week with the weekend in a darker shade. It then has seven blank columns before a section for notes on the far right. THis is where Kitchen duties and a few other things are listed as reminders.

Each of the boys get two columns, each day of the week gets 2 job responsibilities listed. The weekend doesn't have as many jobs so they can catch up if need be. I get the last column (7) for things I'd rather not have the boys doing yet, like vacuuming the stairs.

The boys have "Jobs" listed on their school checkoff sheet. This reminds them to take a break from school and go do one or both of their jobs. On the Frig chart, I made four little dash lines under the job title. When the job is done they put a dot on the line. If I do the job (while destressing), I put an M on the line. They always get the day to get the job done first before I attack it. At the end of the month I have an easy visual chart to see who is being responsible and helping. I put so much money into their savings, and then another amount comes to them if the jobs were completed. If there are too many "M's" on the line then they won't get the full amount and we have a talk about what is reasonable to pay a person for not holding up their responsibility.

We started in at the end of June when Hubby deployed. The boys had a week in June to get use to the idea. This month was the first month that I was able and willing to pay them their share - without any major talks. They have really hung in their to get the jobs done and earn some cash. It is just nice for me to have help with the vacuuming, bathrooms, mopping, dusting, dishes, trash out ,and anything else I can fill into 30 plus slots - without complaining about it.

Every New month gives me a chance to change a job depending on what comes up. The names rotate columns every two months so that they each learn all the jobs, ie; bathroom jobs; toilets, tubs, sinks/mirrors, or floors.

I also offer $1.00 for any extra chores that they might come ask to do. It might be pull a section of weeds from the driveway to vacuuming out the van.

Tootles,

Twisted

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Oct. 5, 2008 - Ducks Unlimited

A few weeks ago Herogian took the Kansas Hunter's Education Course. While there, the sponsors had some drawings. He of course won a dinner ticket for the Ducks Unlimited group here in the area. I thought that was great until I heard what it would cost for the rest of the family to go with him. Nix that idea. Plan 2: I asked Joe S. from church, Herogian's hunting partner, if he would accompany Herogian if I took care of getting his ticket. He agreed. Phewww. Thank goodness.

Last night was the dinner. Joe picked Herogian up around 4:30. The guys didn't return until after 9:30. It was like two boys coming home from the State Fair for the first time. They couldn't quit talking about all the things they saw. They said there were a lot of auctions and drawing for items.

Herogian somehow managed to spend $10 on one ticket for a complete hunting kit with blind, shotgun, and everything. Joe questioned if he should have done that, what would Mother think? From their stories it sounds like a few minutes later, Herogian had pulled out every dollar in his pocket and was trying to get another ticket. He was 3 dollars short. He shouldn't have done the drawing - right?

No. Mr. Joe gave him the three dollars he needed. I guess Mr. Joe also spent money trying to get a drawing at 1 to 20 chance on a new gun.

Herogian did come home with a pop gun from the drawing for greenhorns. THen he pulls a Daisy Red Rider BB Gun out of the truck. Ducks Unlimited made it available during the drawings. The name drawn for it belong to one of the sponsors wife, so she handed ithe gun to Bradley. (An answer to a need). We were wanting to get that very BB gun for taking care of snakes and other varmits that may come around the chicken coop. I was going to sale the 4H competition gun first. Herogian spent the afternoon sighting the gun in for us.

Mr. Joe told Bradley he would like to do it again with him next year.

"Yeah, Mr. Joe. Next time I'll save up 60 dollars for us to blow."

I just shook my head.

Mr. Joe took it as time to leave.

Boys, boys, boys.

Time to prep for another week of school. Hope you have a great week.

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Oct. 3, 2008 - What are the odds?

This evening I used some of our first eggs collected from our own hens. The brown shells were harder than the white ones from the store. Is this normal for brown eggs? Or, is it the better feed our hen gets?

What are the odds for this one; the first two eggs Rachel produced were double yoked. Is this odd or what? She is a buff Orpington. Does that make a difference? I didn't tell Herogian that the eggs had double yokes. He would of melted with the desire to try and hatch them, even though they've been in the refrig for a week.

The two little ones are doing good. We think one (Mumpsy) is a rooster. Panda wants to peck at him. We keep them separated in the yard, and in the tub when in the coop at night. We had to string the heat lamp to the coop from the back porch. I'm hoping our contract with the trench digger will happen soon. I really don't want to dig another trench by myself to bury an electric line to the shed and coop.

Quartz has been a really good mother. It is fun to watch her teaching her little ones. She caught a small grasshopper and put it on the ground in front of the chicks. It's fun to watch them run with something in their mouth, while trying to figure out how to eat such a big morsel. The other funny for the day was Panda and Rachel chasing a butterfly across the yard. It's as funny as watching a preschooler. As soon as they stop and bend over to grab the butterfly, it takes off.

We had a special visitor to our classroom today. A friend of a friend from Indonesia is in town for the week. They came over today to talk to the boys about Indonesia and to show them a few items they had brought back with them. What an interesting geography lesson. The Thunder maker was really cool and reallllllllly loud when Borg got hold of it.

Have a wonderful weekend. Twisted.

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Oct. 3, 2008 - Chick sitting pics

Here I sit on my new job - Chick sitting. The dusty, dirty think in the flower pot is Quartz taking a dirt bath for the second time. Below are the two little cuties I'm chick sitting.

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Sep. 27, 2008 - Chick sit

Chick sit,

Sit chick,

See chick sit.

Chick sit,

Me sit,

See me chick sit.

Dirt bath,

Bird bath,

Bird take dirt bath.

Long time dirt bath

Bird take long dirt bath.

Baby Chicks hold,

Me hold,

Me hold baby Chicks.

Baby Chicks squawk,

Long and loud squawk,

Baby Chicks squawk long and loud.

Momma flip dirt,

Happy Momma flip,

Happy Momma flip dirt.

Nest hands,

Hands nest,

Hands make great nest.

Baby chicks sleep in hands,

Momma Chick sighs.

Momma Chick sighs while baby chicks sleep in hands.

Dr. Suess I'm not, but this was about 8 minutes of Quartz taking a dirt bath in a flower pot while I held the two babies. I had put them out in the grass with Quartz so they could follow her around more than in circles in the black tub. When she jumped up onto the wall and then into the empty flower pot to take a dirt bath, I sat down and scooped the two peeps into my hands. They would cheep, I'd hold them close to Quartz, she'd cluck at them, and they would settle down for a bit. Quartz was going all the way over onto her back flipping dirt through her feathers. She was a momma needing a bath after 3 weeks of sitting on eggs. It was a nice babysitting job, one I'm sure I'll fine reason to do again.

Rachel, our Buff Orpington, gave us an egg yesterday. She was clucking up a storm this morning when I went out to open the coop. She stood up, looked behind her - nothing. Maybe she was clucking at me for interrupting her private moment.

Thanks for stopping by to read my blogs. Many days my conversations with you are my adult conversation. Sorry it is so one sided.

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Sep. 26, 2008 - Too much Star Trek Voyager

The last few weeks we have been jamming on watching all seasons of our Star Trek Voyager series so we can send them to a friend in Oklahoma by Christmas time.

Borg child got a little overwhelmed with it and let me know. I guess when I was butting heads with him the other day, I told him to "Comply". Then he handed in an art project where he basically scribbled over a flower and the verse under it with markers. I said it was unacceptable and that I would "replicate" him another picture to color.

"MOM!!" he grumbled. "You've been watching too much Star Trek.

Hey, at least he knows now what comply, unacceptable and replicate mean.

Live long and prosper.

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Sep. 25, 2008 - The Heaven Express

A few years ago, I fought the battle with Breast Cancer. We thought we were done until I started having difficulty breathing. The below story is my legacy to that time. I have been cancer free for 4 years now. If you don't need a tissue at the end of this story, then I didn't do my job. Let me know what you think, please.

You will also find a button in the side bar where you can click to help give free mammograms. October is Cancer awareness month.

THE HEAVEN EXPRESS

by Jane Deskis

The soft glow from the streetlight danced through the sheer polyester drapes hanging at the window lightly touching the small sleeping forms in their beds. Their mother quietly stepped into the doorway to peer at her beloved children. Some nights were better for her than other nights - this wasn’t one of them. She dared not enter further for fear of waking them with her ragged breathing.

Would they understand what’s happening? She wondered. How long would they remember me holding them?

Her ticket had arrived earlier that year. It did not come by mail or e-mail attachment. It hadn’t arrived by Federal Express or UPS. It softly landed in her lap when the doctor gave her his final report.

No one else in the room saw it — not the doctor, not the nurse, nor her husband, who sat with his arm around her shoulders. No one else spotted the golden edges, or the scripted silver lettering swirling across the hair-thin paper as it fluttered down to perch on her lap. Turning it on edge, it almost disappeared in her fingers. The fluorescent light from overhead glinted off the words “ONE WAY.” The rest of the words blurred, she thought, from the tears pooling in her eyes. She would try to read it again later. She slipped it into her pocket and exchanged it for the Kleenex.

Now, months later, she stood there watching her children sleep, feeling for the ticket in her bathrobe pocket. From the moment she received it, she had carried it everywhere she went – afraid of losing it. Its weight had increased with the passage of time, and the small blurred print had enlarged with new words growing visible. It would be soon, she thought, very soon, that she would know the month, date, and time for her departure. The itinerary would show itself alongside the golden ‘7’ train number.

With the ticket in her hand, she felt the joy well-up inside her. Nothing could be more exciting then going home to be with her Lord; however, her heart struggled with the ache of letting go of what she loved in her earthly home. Her responsibilities, her priorities, her purpose in life lay before her sound asleep. How hard it would be to leave the job of raising them alone to her husband. How dreadfully hard it would be to leave her husband!

All at once, the house began to shudder and shake. For a split-second, the terrorizing image of a tornado flashed through her mind. She recognized the roar of a train growing louder. Bright lights flashed through the windows before her. The children didn’t stir from their dreams.

There are no train tracks near here, she thought. Could it be a plane?

She turned and headed down the hall, gasping at the air that eluded her lungs as the disease, and multiple chemotherapy drugs attacked her body. Pressing her hands against the wall, she struggled to stay upright as she reached for the front door. Pulling it open, she raised her arm to block the blinding light.

Slowly stepping out into the warm night air, she watched as the light from the passenger car windows lit up the sidewalk. It was a train! Gasping for air, she struggled one-step at a time down the front stoop, and out onto the lawn. Wheezing and panting, she gazed in amazement at the large golden engine filling the road in front of her. She stepped toward it as if being pulled by the rays of light from the windows. The train slowed to a stop.

The conductor, in his blue suit with brass buttons, hopped to the ground from the last car, placed a step stool at his feet, and then looked sideways to her. A smile spread under his mustache.

“Ticket, please,” he said, as he held out his hand.

The woman inhaled hard. Her lungs filled to capacity with sweet air. Reaching for the ticket in her pocket, she realized she no longer wore her green bathrobe. She glanced down at the change of cloth she felt around her body. A brand new white suit, as light as air, and as fine as silk, hung on a brand new body. She breathed in deeply. She ran her fingers through the wavy brown hair that for the first time in four years hung down around her face. It felt wonderful.

Pulling the ticket out of the suit pocket, she saw that the itinerary was complete. The missing information on the ticket was now visible in silver lettering. She took another deep breath of the sweet air, pulling her shoulders up and back. She walked with sure footing to the conductor, and handed the ticket over to him. With a gold punch in his hand, he held the ticket up to check its authenticity. With a nod and a wink, he punched her ticket before handing it back.

Taking the ticket in one hand, she reached out to take his hand with her other. He turned as their fingers met to help her step up onto the train’s platform. The railing under her hand was of pure gold. Its surging warmth didn’t surprise her as she ran her fingers over it. When she reached the top step, she took hold with both hands as the conductor secured the stool, and then swung himself up beside her. Turning around she looked back at the house from which she came.

Through the walls of the house, the memories flash before her. From three years ago, she saw the chocolate birthday cake flipping through the air, before landing right side up on the table with all five candles still in place. The campout when the kids slept on their master bedroom floor instead of in the tent they had all worked so hard to set up in the backyard. Christmas morning, when the children were laughing at her husband’s surprised expression when he unwrap a log of wood instead of the expected metal detector. The surprise birthday party when the youngest led Daddy up the stairs from the basement and told him to, “Close your eyes so you won’t see all the people.”

With a blink of an eye, the sight of her sleeping family replaced the memories. She glanced over the children’s room. Brown bear was lying on the floor beside the discarded Batman action figure. The hand of her middle son lay open on his pillow. As it did every night, the loft held a gangly leg sticking out over its edge from under the lowest railing -- the rest of the young body lay hidden beneath special quilts and pillows made by their grandma.

In their bedroom, her husband had flipped over onto his back. She could just barely hear him starting to snore. The poster of the girl and boy watching a sunset on the front cover of the Saturday Evening Post, which he had framed for her two months before their wedding, still hung crooked above their bed. She smiled.

Her eyes traveled to the living room where the quilt in the round frame still sat in a corner beckoning her to finish. The stack of thank-you cards, she had planned to send out after Christmas, lay on the corner table by the stereo still waiting for addresses. A flash of light caught her attention back by the bedrooms. She could now see an angel with a flaming sword standing watch over her loved ones. She blew them a long slow kiss. The conductor took hold of her arm to lead her inside the car as the Express lurched then pulled out.

She sat down close to the window and watched until the house disappeared from view. Her warm tears dropped from her cheeks, landing in her lap as diamonds.

She knew in her heart that her husband and children would survive this day. And, she knew that she would meet them again when they came home on …

‘The Heaven Express’.

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Sep. 24, 2008 - I grossed the boys out

Today was a first. Anything too girly will gross the boys out, but today was different. I expected "Cool" and "Wow". Instead I received "Gross" and "Yuk" from three boys. So, are you wondering how I got the upper hand on them?

It was with Biology. We decided to open the rest of the eggs. Quartz had pushed the four from under her. We also candled the two in the incubator, and nothing showed up. We headed for the kitchen then I remembered "Charlotte's Web" when Templeton cracked open the goose egg. We turned tail and headed back outside to the patio.

I used a straight pin to punch through the shell at the air sac. That way we could look in first before spilling the contents. Well, you know how it goes with eggs. There's the tendency to hold them a bit harder than you need to. Yellow gooey yolk ran down my fingers to my wrist. That got the first "YUK".

Hand were already messy after that one so I went for it. I broke open the next egg in my hand. I dark clump was in the middle of the yellow goo.

"That looks like poo!"

"Gross, Mom. Quit touching it."

I pulled the slimey mess off the dark matter to find that it was an embryo developed to the point of having dark eyes, a large head, and a skinny body with wing buds about 1/8 of an inch long. The bottom half melted into the goo like a Genie coming out of the bottle. That caused the boys to run.

Herogian bent over the grass to gag a few times. Whether or not they were real, I'm not sure. I was interested in the mass in my hand. Rocketboy jumped up and down a few times getting farther and farther away. I don't think his thrusters were working properly. He kept waving his hands up and down with a grimmace on his face. Borg - well, he took off. I don't know where he went -- well actually I do; he went anywhere he could to get out of school work.

Herogian gave 'Achel' to Rocketboy so he could say that he has a chicken now. The name was changed to "Arwing" . Actually, I was corrected, it is "R-Wing". Some ship that a Nintendo Character flies. That goes right up there with the Star Trek names for the boys.

On a different note.

This is day eight of butting heads with Borg child. If you are fighting to hold the boundary lines with a child, just know your not alone. Hang in there, we'll get through this together.

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