Independence Day 2013

When we visited Philadelphia and Independence Hall a couple of weeks ago, it didn't even occur to me that Independence Day was right around the corner. Happy coincidence!

That helps make this holiday celebration the same as all our holiday celebrations--academic and low-key.

our hometown Independence Day parade (we like it weird!)

fireworks!!!

This is the first year that we've done fireworks at home. Our town can't seem to figure out the simple, practical measures that all the surrounding towns take to ensure a nice fireworks show that isn't a money pit, so they cancelled the show this year in a fit of spite. Normally, I'm really squeamish about causing the kind of scene that driveway fireworks make, but our across-the-street neighbor is really nice, and our next-door neighbor, well... Animal Control came back to our house a couple of days ago to verify that our coop does not smell, as he called again to complain that it did, and that our sight barrier is within the regulation, as he called again to say that it's not, and seeing that the officer was visibly angered at having been sent back for no reason (wild goose chases cost time and money!), AND as driveway fireworks are also within city regulation, I felt confident that I had the City's double support for annoying him inside the bounds of the law.

The M-60s were satisfyingly LOUD, and the honeybees were bright and loud and lifted up surprisingly and delightfully speedily and high. The children were absolutely giddy, and could barely be brought down the necessary few notches before bedtime, even with the generous application of sparklers:

Even after their showers, they went to bed still smelling like smoke and gunpowder.

Just as they should do on the Fourth of July!

My Latest over at Crafting a Green World: Knitting, Chalk, Beans, and Elephant Poop

a review of Knitting for Dolls

a tutorial for kid-decorated bean bags 

a review of elephant poop paper

and a review of Side by Side, the research for which entailed a VERY contented afternoon of kid portraits done in sidewalk chalk, colored sand, and birdseed

In this summer season of swim lessons and day camp and finishing up unit studies and reviewing the year's math and big chores like weeding the garden and cleaning out the chicken coop, I've temporarily left behind our daily work list and transitioned to "work hours"--two hours in the morning and/or afternoon, depending on our outside activities schedule, when the children know that they're working for me. I have the master list in my planner of what I'd like to get done by the end of summer--our animal biology studies, the rest of the Bob books, the girls' grade-level Splash Math, experimenting with bubbles using our Zome tools, vacation scrapbooks, etc.--and I tend to alternate some of those activities with the chores that I'd like to get done that day, until our work hours are over. 

The structure is pretty chill, too, in that if a child takes the recycling out to the garage, and then stays out there for an hour to follow the chickens and swing on the tire swing, that's okay. Frankly, I'd feel ashamed to call myself a homeschooler if that wasn't okay. Chicken watching and tire swing swinging are VERY important to our homeschool.

And that's how, right this minute, Willow is finishing up the last three pages of a workbook associated with our horse study, and Sydney is throwing a royal fit as she "looks" (read: runs around the house and screams) for the outfit she needs to wear to aerial silks class tonight. 

And yes, I AM counting down the minutes (130) until they're at day camp for three hours this afternoon. I tell you, I could get spoiled by all that fit-free time!

P.S. I solved the mystery of Sydney's major fit-throwing streak these past few months. Matt measured her against the door jam a couple of nights ago, and discovered that she's grown two inches in the past four months; that's a half-inch a month! I've noticed since the girls were toddlers that they emotionally regress when they have a physical or intellectual growth spurt, so there you go. I also won't be surprised if when this growth spurt calms, Sydney is all of a sudden reading.

Chicken Portraits

Our boys finally started practicing their little baby crows, which means we had to re-home them back to my friend. I could have probably kept them for a few more days, until the first real (loud!) crows came, but Grumpy Neighbor is still actively trying to manipulate us into getting rid of our chickens (Did I tell you that he offered to pay us $500 to get rid of them? Sigh), and so I think he'd probably call 911 or run over with a shotgun if heard so much as a single crow--so off the boys must go.

Before the two boys left, however, we took an afternoon to take portraits with them. These are in the same vein as our foster kitten portraits, only with chickens, they're even more silly:

Fluffball

Cluck and Peck, our two boys

 Cluck

Peck

Arrow

all four 

 watching them forage while out on a "field trip" from their yard

The girls held Cluck and Peck on their laps the whole trip out to my friend's farm to leave them. She'll wait to harvest them until they've grown up a bit more and she can be entirely sure that they're boys, and in the meantime she sometimes sends us photos of the two sitting on her porch rail and looking quite pleased with this free-range life that they've made their way into.

Our girls, meanwhile, don't seem to miss the boys a bit. Their coop and yard is perfectly comfy for the two of them, although they escape just often enough to drive poor Matt to distraction as he cobbles on yet another fence rail or wire bit to try to foil them--the good new is that he's perfectly on board now with my conviction that we must buy a new house that we can afford to double mortgage with this one while we prepare it to sell. A cobbled-together chicken yard just outside the master bedroom window is the last straw, really. A buyer could perhaps overlook the kid-painted front door, perhaps overlook the seashells glued to the bathroom door frame, perhaps overlook the big basement timeline, but no one, and I mean NO ONE, is going to buy a home that has a chicken yard right outside the master bedroom window.

Except for me, of course, I adore it. And when we find a new house, I might do it again!