How to Make a No-Sew Tied Fleece Blanket

This tutorial is so easy that apparently I decided that you don't even need nice photos for it, and I just shot what the kids were doing as they made a few more of these no-sew tied fleece blankets for our local animal shelter.

These blankets make great animal shelter donations, because you can make them to fit specific kennel sizes (we were asked to make one size for the cat kennels, and another, larger size for the dog ones), and the fleece is easy for the staff to wash. The fact that the blankets can go home with the doggies and kitties when they're adopted is a big bonus!

These no-sew tied fleece blankets are actually good gifts for people people, too, though, not just for fur people. It's a bigger project to tie a lap blanket, or even a full-sized blanket, for a person, sure, but it's also a project that can be easily done while one watches Netflix.

Season 2 of The Crown just came out, so I am a BIG fan of projects that can be completed while one watches Netflix! I'm sewing SIX variations of mermaid/shark/mermaid skeleton lap blankets, and let me tell you that I am binge-watching SO much dishy Queen Elizabeth II drama! And Philip! I can't even!

Anyway...

To make this project all you need are two pieces of fleece, cut to identical dimensions. Make a cardboard template that is 1"x2", and use that to fringe all the way around each piece of fleece. You need the template so that your fringes are identical, as well:

To make those larger cuts out of the corners, just completely cut away two of the cardboard template dimensions, to make a 2"x2" square cut from each corner.

Now all you have to do is put the fleece wrong sides together, then tie them together by matching the fringes and tying them together with a square knot:

A square knot is just the simplest knot you know, but you do it twice, once with your right hand dominant, then again with your left hand dominant. So if you tied the first knot going left over right, do it again right over left:

My Girl Scout troop taught the square knot to several Brownies early this semester (as well as teaching them how to braid to make these dog toys, and how to make these pumpkin and oat dog treats!), but on another day the kids and I were teaching an activity at the Children's Museum that required tying ribbon to chopsticks, and I was surprised at how many older kids, even teenagers, couldn't tie a knot, or didn't want to try.

I always make them try twice before I help them, just in case you previously thought that I'm nice.

Of course, even knot-tying goes faster when you have a sister to help you!

Even better when you turn it into a sing-along!



When you've tied all the knots all the way around, your blanket will likely look horrifyingly wonky, because you've just naturally tied your knots with varying degrees of tension. It's an easy fix, though--just stretch it by hand all the way around, and it'll straighten itself out. You'll probably need a buddy if you're making a larger blanket, but regardless, when you're done, it will look nice and perfect just like this:

This particular blanket went to a cat at the animal shelter. I'm hoping that it's long found its forever home along with her!

Want to do a little more with your no-sew fleece blanket? Here are some other ideas on my radar:

• I like the look of this different method that doesn't use knots, but it does require cutting a slit into each fringe, so that feels like the same amount of work, and also less kid-friendly.
• I've seen weighted blankets talked about around the internet, and it's always been kind of casually on my to-do list for the kids (and maybe for me!). This tutorial for a no-sew weighted blanket, using bean bags stuffed with poly beads, looks like the easiest tute, and a great one for a kid, as you can add more beans as she grows.
• This braided-edge fleece blanket is even more work, but again, the edging looks quite lovely, and looks harder to make than it is.
• You can use this same knot-tying method to make all kinds of fleece projects. I like the look of this patchwork blanket made by knotting all of the pieces together--it has so much dimension, and looks so snuggly!

If I have any fleece left over after sewing two mermaid tail blankets, two mermaid skeleton blankets, and two eaten-by-a-shark blankets this week, I might try one of these and let you know how it went!

And after I sew all of those, I'll also be able to catch you completely up on The Crown!

This is How She Trains Her Dog (and How Her Dog Trains Her)

We've had Luna for almost eleven months now, but she's really only been working on being trained for the past five or so, when the basic obedience course offered by the closest doggy daycare finally fit into our schedule. Seriously, it's not as if we could have gotten anything else done on a Saturday morning during the ballet year!

Matt and Will went through the basic obedience course with Luna once, and then were supposed to work with her one-on-one to cement the commands they'd covered before they enroll her for the next level.

And... they're still working on that.

Luna is probably around four years old now, and she came to us having had a litter and a bad case of heartworms. She's the sweetest dog that I've ever met, so clearly somebody treated her right, but equally clearly that never consisted of ever asking her to do anything. Ever. Which is so weird to me, because I've known plenty of people who are lazy dog owners, and their dogs will still shake hands or "beg" for a treat or something. Anything. Something stupid, probably, but something.

But our Luna came to us not even not knowing any commands, but not knowing how to play at all, and with seemingly no understanding that human language and gestures have meaning, or that she should look to humans for communication. The first thing that Matt and Will were taught was to hold a treat at their forehead to get Luna's attention, and then to give her the treat so that she learned to associate paying attention with a reward, and this step took FOREVER. Honestly, I think Luna still forgets, and Will still drills her on this sometimes.

In addition to the "watch" command, Will trains Luna daily on "sit," "down," "come," and "touch," which is the prerequisite to "heel." Luna can do those commands now, but not consistently. Still, it's better than she did for months upon months, when Will had to physically move Luna's body into position after every command.

I, personally, would have gotten sick of this after the first week, and Will has had her moments of frustration, but for the most part, she is more consistent and patient with her dog than I have ever seen her be before:

She finally watches!

Here's a good down, and Luna isn't jumping up immediately for a change, so it's a VERY good down!

The good down was probably mostly a fluke...



Will usually rewards Luna with bits of hot dog, but I think that's bad for her arteries, and so every now and then I talk her into making a batch of homemade, healthy dog treats. Luna really likes these honey dog treats, but these particular ones are the same no-bake, pumpkin and oat dog treats that my Girl Scout troop taught Brownies to make at a Pets Badge workshop last month, and we have tested them on MANY animals, and every single animal has adored them:

Luna loves them so much that when Will accidentally spills them, life kind of becomes chaos:



Back to work!

Will still puts a treat on her forehead to remind Luna to "watch."

She also has Luna "touch" to encourage her to go weird places, because Luna is scared to go weird places. She avoids our kitchen because she's scared of the slippery floor there, bless her heart.

This dog has given this kid so much more than we have given this dog. We've only given Luna food, shelter, walks, training, fun experiences, and unconditional love and affection. But she has given our older daughter gifts she wouldn't otherwise have. Learning comes easily to Will, so easily that she barely notices that it's happening most times. It's so easy for her to learn new things that it's also easy for her not to understand that learning isn't this easy for most people. I've seen many, many clever children (and adults!) who are disdainful, contemptuous of others who learn more slowly than they, annoyed by people who take a while to think, who ask questions about something that's already been covered, who need material repeated for them, who need to repeat the material over and over again. It's a disgusting state of mind, and I won't permit Will to voice it at another, but I can tell that she thinks it sometimes. Who wouldn't be tempted, when they see someone inexplicably struggling with something so EASY? It's easy to lose your compassion that way, to think that your quick learning makes you better, when really it's nothing to your credit--you were simply born that way. But if you think that it makes you better, then you think that those who can't duplicate your quick wit are worse than you, and perhaps they deserve their bad breaks, and you don't notice all the good breaks that you've been given just because you happen to be such a clever girl.

But then here comes this dog. You love her the most, and she loves you the most, and you'd do anything for her, and you know that she'd do just anything in her power to please you. But boy, is she a slow learner. You tell her the same things over and over and over again, and you know she wants to do what you say; you can see by her head tilt and her wriggling butt and the uncertain lifting of her front paw that she desperately wants to do what you say, but she just. Doesn't. Get it. You have to patiently demonstrate the same thing over and over again, watching her so eager, watching her not get it, and you get so frustrated, but how can you be mad at her? You can see how much she wants to do your thing. You can see that if willpower would make her learn the thing, she would have learned the thing long ago. It's clearly not her fault, because she's absolutely the best dog, but being the best dog in the world does not mean that she's the fastest learner. She may, in fact, be the slowest learner.

But you don't give up, because you love your dog so much (and also because your mother won't let you, because she secretly knows what is going to happen). And very, very, VERY slowly, what your mother secretly knows will happen does, indeed, start to happen. One day she points out to you that you used to have to push your dog's butt down to get her to sit every single time, over and over again, but now you only have to do it sometimes. And then hardly ever. You used to have to say, "Down," and then physically pull your dog's feet out from under her to lay her down, but now you only have to put the treat down there and she remembers. She IS learning. It IS happening. And whereas you take your own learning for granted, as if everyone can spell a word aloud once a day for four days and then have that spelling memorized, and can read a whole book an hour, every hour, you are absolutely thrilled at every very small advance that your dog makes in understanding. Every time she remembers to sit, you celebrate. You're more patient. You're learning to be more encouraging. You're becoming a better person every time that former shelter dog looks in your face, her ears up, and wills herself to learn for you.

That's of far more value than anything that we could possibly ever give to this dog of ours.

Physics and Force at the Children's Museum of Indianapolis

We really like volunteering at the Children's Museum. It fits our varied skill sets and energies well, and I've been profoundly changed by the simple environment of respect and empowerment shared with even the youngest of us that exists there. Even the youngest of us is spoken to and with respectfully, as equals. Even the youngest of us is given big responsibilities, and empowered to fulfill them. And on this particular day, the not-quite-youngest of us was enlisted with a very big responsibility, and empowered to fulfill it all on her own.

Look at my big kid, running all by herself a tabletop activity at the world's largest children's museum:


She was completely in charge of this tabletop demonstration of centrifugal force. There are three settings on that Hot Wheels track, by means of which children could experiment with force and acceleration and evaluate how they affected the Hot Wheels car's ability to loop the loop.

When asked later, she claims that her main takeaway is that 55% of children, when presented with a button that you're obviously meant to push, attempted to pull it instead. I, however, sneaked many looks at her as she led everyone from toddlers to teens older than she through the activity, and just between us, I'll tell you that she took away a lot more than that. This kid is confident, and knowledgeable, and funny, gentler with those younger and smaller than she, unabashed when speaking to those older and bigger. She's growing up just the way I'd hoped she would.

Syd and I ran a less exciting table, charged with interesting and engaging children in the concept of the inclined plane, and a comparison of linear motion with rotational motion on that plane. The opening concept is kind of a yawner: you've got two inclined Hot Wheels tracks set up, and a couple of stacked Duplo bricks and a Hot Wheels car to test them on. Kid comes up, you ask Kid if Kid wants to play a game, Kid says yes because duh, you tell Kid you're going to race and Kid can choose to be the block or the car, Kid chooses, you race, you extrapolate on potential energy, linear motion vs. rotational motion, friction, etc.

After a couple of iterations, Syd and I found ways to make this game more fun, though, and more leveled, because leveling tabletop activities is very important when you've got an audience of anyone and everyone. Block vs. Car is pretty great for preschoolers and kindy types, but for younger preschoolers and toddlers, a much better game goes something like, "Can you make the car go down the ramp? Wow! Can you make the block go down the ramp? Ooh, I saw you had to do something different to make the block go down!" and then just let them tool around with cars and blocks and ramps until they're done or their parents drag them away.

For older kids, and especially for school groups, you play out Block vs. Car, getting the rest of the kids to be the judges if there's a ton of them crowded around your table, but then you start to add on challenges. Round #2 allows the kid in charge of Block to do anything she wants, short of injuring competitors or bystanders, to give Block the advantage. Car can't do anything differently. The kid will usually change the angle of Block's track, or push Block to get it to move faster. One kid, who I flat-out told is a genius, also flipped Block over so that only the pegs were touching the track, not the flat side. When Block wins, you ask the kid what she did differently and talk about why that worked. Switch players if you can, and Round #3 can either be a no-holds-barred race in which both Car and Block can try to get their pieces to win, or you can do another round of Block only, but Block has to do something different from what was done last time. If you change the rules slightly for every round, even teenagers will excitedly play round after round after round. It was pretty amusing to be a part of.

I completely forgot to take photos of our table, but here's, like, two seconds of us goofing around when we were between visitors:



I often joke with the kids that wherever we are, I'm the nerdiest one in the room, so they are always extra thrilled when they see that I've found a nerdy soulmate. As we were packing up our activities, we were discussing Hot Wheels with the museum staffer who was in charge of us. I mentioned that when I was my kids' age, my prize possession was a Hot Wheels recreation of the General Lee. He then told me that in his friend's latest Loot Crate, she'd gotten a Hot Wheels recreation of the '67 Impala from Supernatural. I was all, "I LOOOOVE Supernatural!," and he was all, "Oh, really? Do you want to see pics of my Supernatural cosplay?"

I may have asked him to be my best friend. Also, yes, of COURSE I wanted to see pics of his Supernatural cosplay! The kids looked on with benign bemusement as the staffer and I discussed conventions and cosplay and how you can't spray paint foam when making your costume weapons, because the foam will melt, and also people who obsess over avoiding anachronisms in their cosplay are fine, UNTIL they begin to nitpick your cosplay, which isn't meant to be bound to one specific scene from one specific genre, ugh.

It's possibly a little odd how often I find myself looking at some stranger's cosplay pics on their phone, but it's one of my great pleasures.

The kids don't always want to hang out at the museum the way they used to when they were small, but on this day, they seemed determined to embody the idea that since they'd just Worked Hard, it was time for them to Play Hard, and they spent the whole dang rest of the day there, playing like toddlers.

Don't believe me? Here they are in the Ice Cream Shoppe, last visited with this much enthusiasm when they were six and eight:


Here is Syd's Smilosaurus:


And here is Will in the gift shop:



We have a friend who works there, and after I complained to her that "ugh, these kids always have to look at every single thing every single time we come!" she was all, "Well, of course! Ooh, come look at the new stuff we got in!" And there were friends in the Paleo Lab window to chat with, and the kids just had to go to the program on hadrosaurs--





--and if we're down in Dinosphere we might as well see everything else, too--




--and of course we had to go to the racing exhibit, because it IS Indy 500 week and we ARE in Indianapolis--



--but I think everyone had the most fun visiting the newest exhibit, themed around the circus.

This is a baby Rola Bola:


Here's how the professionals do it.

Here's a baby Roman ladder:







--and here's how the professionals do it!

My sore arms attest that the Roman ladder is great for the biceps.

We have lately been obsessed with Philippe Petit, from both The Man Who Walked Between the Towers and Man on Wire. I think I'm going to spring for a beginner's slackline kit, although Syd would prefer to start straightaway with a tightrope, but we were all pretty excited to see this baby tightrope:



And here's how a professional does it!

And if you've ever been to the Children's Museum, you know that you obviously can't get away without riding the carousel:


Our volunteer badges let us ride for free, and on this day the children took full advantage of that. I sat on a bench by the domino table and read several chapters of my book, looking up every now and then to watch my two race to choose their favorite steeds, happily ride away, then exit at the end and race around to the beginning to do the same thing over and over and over again. I'd look up to find them mid-ride, their heads bent together in discussion, or at the beginning of the ride, jostling between each other to see who could get to the stag first. I swear, they were having a better time than most of the toddlers.

I love this about the Children's Museum, or homeschooling, or maybe simply my kids. They're both mature and immature, in control and absolutely silly, working hard and playing hard. They feel capable of giving their best to an often wearying, often tedious job for two full hours, and they feel able to spend the next three goofing off and having fun, occasionally side-by-side with a small child they'd been instructing just that morning. How many other kids their ages do you know who can genuinely be themselves in that way, who can let all of the facets of who they are shine in one setting, with the same people?

Heck, how many adults do you know who can do that?

Twenty Years of To-Do Lists

I was cleaning the other day (I know--big shocker!), and I found many random things. For instance, why did I move house with my entire cloth diaper stash, four years after my last baby toilet trained?

It's all on ebay now, although I probably would have made a lot more off of those diapers if I'd sold them when they weren't "vintage."

I found my wedding album, which I'd been looking everywhere for since I moved. What happened to its cover, however? No idea. I guess that now I get to design a new one!

I recycled several previous generations of instruction manuals for cameras and sewing machines that I no longer have.

I found my mending queue, stuffed into a box and moved to our new house and then put onto a shelf in the back closet. It was actually hard to look at that little stack of little pants with torn knees and little shirts with ripped seams--how did I ever have children so tiny? If you sew, then one day, while your children are still small, I want you to simply whisk away your entire mending queue--yes, the whole thing!--and put it into a time capsule. Look at it again when you and your kids share a shoe size. It will make you cry.

I also found a bunch of old notebooks, and when I flipped through them, I found a bunch of old notes! I don't know why I kept all of my college notebooks, from undergrad and grad school, but I'm pretty stoked to have them now. It turns out that I used to have way better handwriting than I have now, but I didn't start to take all of my class notes in outline format until grad school. I don't think I organized my notes at all as an undergrad!

It turns out, though, that I always wrote to-do lists, and lots of them. I don't remember when I bought my first planner, but it possibly wasn't until I had kids who had extracurriculars that had to be organized. Before that, they showed up in all of my school notebooks, all over all of the pages. Here's my to-write list of topics for the Opinion column that I used to write for my undergrad newspaper, The TCU Daily Skiff:

The other Opinion writers and I measured our success by how many Letters to the Editor were received in response to us. If you REALLY hit a nerve, sometimes a reader would send a personal letter directly to you, as well, or even find out your phone number and call you directly. I got a phone call once from the Student Health Center when I wrote that they should offer the morning after pill. I received a letter, like a genuine, in-the-mail, postage stamped LETTER once, in response to I don't remember what article, but I do remember that the writer was a very devoutly Christian woman who took deep offense to something sacrilegious that I'd written. It actually could have been the same column that pissed off the Student Health Center, as a matter of fact. Anyway, this writer made her points with different colors of inks, and stickers, and a lot of underlining and circling important phrases. Interestingly, my second job (I generally had three to four at any given time to pad out my scholarship) was in the special collections library, and I did a lot of work with the Marguerite Oswald collection. She was convinced that her son had been framed for assassinating Kennedy, and her papers consisted of her fruitless research into that topic, as well as all of the mail she received, both fan mail and hate mail. Many letters of both types were from crazy people. Many of them made their points with different colors of inks, and stickers, and a lot of underlining and circling important phrases.

I was THRILLED to receive my first crazy-person hate mail! I am sure that I still have it somewhere. Perhaps I'll find it the next time I clean...

These next couple of to-do lists make me the happiest, though. The first is from the summer that I had Will. It's clear that I was in serious nesting mode! I mean, washing the windows? I have washed the windows of this current house exactly once. This task listed below, if I ever got around to it, was probably the only time I washed windows in that house:

And this one, with a date of just days before I gave premature birth to Syd, I'm sure did not get completed:

I thought I had another six weeks to bust through that independent study project!

Here's what my to-do lists look like these days: 

All those cookie booths! 

I tend to put all my bits and bobs of notes in my planner these days, whether it's my percentages for making cookie orders, or my plans for sewing Syd's fashion show garment, or lesson plans for future school units or Girl Scout badges, or even, clearly, a bit of old-fashioned math.

I also keep these planners. I don't know if anyone will ever care about them, beyond me--I certainly don't expect to have my papers in a special collections library one day!--but I do like to look through them and reminisce. Looking at my schedule of taking little ones to gymnastics, or Creative Movement, or Montessori Family Night, is a reminder of how fleeting the inconveniences of their childhood are, as fleeting as the pleasures. Seeing something to do with Pappa or Mac written down as casual as you please is a reminder to appreciate my loved ones. Whole weeks blocked off remind me of our great vacations.

Although those to-do lists with things that never got marked through still make me kind of tense to look at...

The Kid Cooks Nerdy Nummies

Hallelujah, because Syd loves to cook!

Syd's an adventurous cook who loves to try ambitious new recipes, and even though she suffers from perfectionism in her schoolwork and many other pursuits, she happily has a much higher tolerance for failure in the kitchen. She likes to invent her own recipes and see how they turn out, she likes to cook from a recipe book, and she very, very, VERY much likes to decorate her sweet creations with frosting and candy.

I was a little worried when Syd chose, for her Project of the Week last week, to make a couple of the recipes from Nerdy Nummies, a copy of which we have checked out from our public library. The recipes look very adorable, but every single one includes a lot of those decorative fiddly details that I just have no patience with.

Fortunately, Syd has all the patience for decorative fiddly details!

Here she is making the manna and health potions, substituting Kool-aid (I know, I know...) for the raspberry and blueberry syrup that the recipe calls for:

She poured the Kool-aid into little bottles, just as the recipe shows, and even made little labels for them, but the recipe also calls for half-and-half or cream or something to be poured on top, and that step just flat-out doesn't work when you're using Kool-aid instead of syrup and soda--the dairy sort of congealed into a disturbing, blobby mess at the bottom.

Oh, well. We just drank the Kool-aid!

The robot brownie pops, on the other hand, turned out SUPER cute. We had a lot of trouble with the candy melts, as they never did melt enough to dip the brownie pops in as the recipe shows (and Syd actually scorched a batch trying to get them melty enough), but once I just took a knife and frosted each one for her with the candy melts, gritting my teeth because she also didn't put the sticks in far enough and they wanted to fall apart from the weight of the frosting, then Syd was able to do what, for her, was the whole point of the activity:

Making robots!!!

Did they not turn out adorable?!? And they actually weren't hard to make, just fiddly, and I definitely need to do some more research on candy melts that are actually dippable.

Syd's Project of the Week this week is to bake another cake and decorate it, likely with even more candy. This is clearly her area of interest right now, so I'm also researching this week more ways to engage and support her. If you've got tips for hackschooling cake decorating or recommendations for quality kid-friendly baking and decorating supplies, please let me know!

Modeling Volume Measurements using the Metric System

When a kid can't get the hang of their math lesson, then I know it's time to bring out the manipulatives.

Normally, I try to introduce each mathematical concept using manipulatives right at the beginning, but sometimes they sneak up on me. In Will's Math Mammoth, for instance, she was tooling along in decimals, and I'd shown her how to model decimals using Base Ten blocks, how to round decimals using a number line with tenths and hundredths marked, how to divide decimals using blank hundred grids as models, etc., but then I went to print out her lesson for the day one morning and boom! Here's a lesson on the metric system, all of a sudden!

I let the lesson go by, then, just handing it over to Will, but she just could not wrap her head around the concept of metric conversions. Grams to centigrams? Kilometers to meters? Hectoliters to liters to milliliters? Forget it! It made no sense to her, even when I gave her a conversion chart for reference.

It just... made no sense.

The next day, then, we had a different type of math lesson. I had bought this set of graduated cylinders marked in liter measurements a while ago--like, a year and a half!--and had never opened them. This day, however, was finally the day for the graduated cylinders to come out to play!

I made Will a chart that consisted of seven rows, each with the conversion chart from kiloliter to milliliter typed out. Her job was to be two-fold:

1. Model each liter unit from milliliter to liter, and
2. Write out the complete conversion chart when the entry for each unit is 1. For example, what is the complete conversion chart for 1 milliliter? 1 decaliter?

Lastly, I provided a set of Base Ten blocks to use for modeling. My own goals for this lesson were to:

1. Provide Will with a visual reference of each unit from milliliter to liter.
2. Give Will practice making these conversions.
3. Have her create her own reference sheet to use in future lessons.
4. Let her have plenty of practice looking at that conversion chart, to help with memorizing it.

First, I asked Will to model one milliliter:

I would have liked for her to have used the 1 centiliter graduated cylinder for this, just because, but for each unit that she modeled, she kept choosing to use the largest cylinder that still had markings for her particular measurement:

It spoiled part of the activity that I had planned, because I'd wanted her to photograph each measurement to serve as a visual reference, but photos of cylinders of different sizes, each with water barely covering its bottom, doesn't make much of a comparative reference. Ah, well...

Will normally loathes manipulatives, but surprisingly, she LOVED this activity! Perhaps it was the way that it involved not tiny little pieces of things to fiddle with, but large movements that you can make with your whole body:

It was more of a problem-solving activity than a simple modeling one, as well, which also helped.

For the first couple of measurements--1 milliliter, and 1 centiliter--I used the Base Ten blocks to show her how the conversions work exactly as they do with decimals. If the cm cube represents 1 milliliter, then the ten-bar represents 1 centiliter. What decimal represents the place that one cm cube holds in a ten-bar? In a hundred flat, for the deciliter? In a thousand cube, for the liter?

After the first couple Will could easily see the pattern that emerges, and could fill in all the others herself:

Here's what her finished chart looks like:

This activity turned out to be the key that unlocked the metric system for Will. As she filled out the chart, she said, in passing, "I understand this." All the yays!

Of course, this is the best hot summer day celebration of the liter!

We're about to begin a two-week break from school, so this might not happen for a while, but I did have Matt buy a giant bag of cheap rice so that Will can do this same activity with grams--for that, I plan to have her put her measurements in sandwich baggies and label them, so that she CAN have a permanent visual reference for it.

And I suppose I should also start reading ahead in Math Mammoth...

Fifteen Photos of Fifteen Chickens

The human population of our home is now so well outnumbered as to leave no doubt about who/what is in charge, with the long-anticipated arrival of Will's chicks. You might recall that this is Will's own project--she proposed the idea and received permission, picked out exactly which breeds of which sexes from which hatchery she wanted to order (I am not personally comfortable with ordering chicks by mail, but I am not my child, alas), and is the final authority on their care (I wanted to start letting the chicks outside in our small coop, for instance, but was overruled--"The care sheet says four weeks," she decided). She has a lot of help, of course, especially in these early days, but there's plenty of time later to negotiate our roles and benefits as primary investors when her egg business gets going.

For now, however, we have thirteen (you may remember that we ordered fifteen chicks--our order was shorted by one, and one died the day after they arrived. This was super sad, but also a relief to the adult human population, as we needed seventeen chickens even less than we need fifteen chickens) beautiful, sweet, funny babies to adore.

Knowing us as you do, you will not be surprised to learn that we have spent the past week doing "chick portraits" every day. I have a truly shocking number of photographs of our chicks, and I am going to insist on showing you every single photo, on account of I am besotted by these babies, but in order to not stretch your patience too far, I'll confine myself to fifteen photos per post, in honor of our total flock number (can't forget our Fluffball and Arrow, now can we?). I'll also try to give you their names, although to be honest, only the kids can really tell them all apart, and I'm pretty sure that sometimes they're just making that up:

I'd like you to meet Featherbutt. 

This is Hermione. 

Here is Dan Quayle.

And this is Marshmallow.

I believe that this is Spot.

And here is Sun.

That's a few of our chicks. There are many more to come.

Why, you might ask, did I permit my child to buy thirteen more chickens, when there are only four people in our family? That is a fair question, Friends. Matt and I don't want fifteen chickens. Frankly, if these thirteen are as friendly and tame as the first two, I don't know how we're going to manage so much as walking unmolested in our yard, much less backing out of the driveway (I already have to station a kid outside the garage when I back out, to keep clueless chickens and carefree cats from wandering behind my wheels).

Seriously, fair questions all. And yet, the answer is also an easy one.

Why, you might ask? This is why:


The look on that kid's face? That kid who usually finds it such a struggle to get outside her own head, to let her tender heart show? That look is worth a lot more than just fifteen chickens.