tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46697835882404642152024-02-06T20:47:13.357-08:00creating, becomingDanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-36332692073054650542010-11-13T22:32:00.000-08:002010-11-13T22:36:55.101-08:00Mnemonic Device: Parts of SpeechTotally copied this from PW's site today. My particular brand of filing doesn't to mesh well with me, so I'm gonna try blog filing.<br />
<br />
A NOUN’S the name of any thing;<br />
As school or garden, hoop, or swing.<br />
<br />
ADJECTIVES tell the kind of noun;<br />
As great, small, pretty, white, or brown.<br />
<br />
Three small words we often see<br />
Are ARTICLES - a, an, and the.<br />
<br />
In place of nouns the PRONOUNS stand;<br />
John’s head, his face, my arm, your hand.<br />
<br />
VERBS tell of something being done;<br />
As read, write, spell, sing, jump, or run.<br />
<br />
How things are done the ADVERBS tell;<br />
As slowly, quickly, ill, or well.<br />
<br />
They also tell us where and when;<br />
As here, and there, and now, and then. <br />
<br />
A PREPOSITION stands before<br />
A NOUN; as in or through a door.<br />
<br />
CONJUNCTIONS sentences unite;<br />
As kittens scratch and puppies bite.<br />
<br />
The INTERJECTION cries out “Hark!<br />
I need an exclamation mark!”<br />
<br />
A little disclaimer from one of her readers:<br />
<br />
Wait, wait! Part of that is wrong! Pronouns truly take the place of a noun: I, you, he, she, they, it.<br />
His, her, its–they can’t stand in place of nouns; they describe noun. That makes them possessive adjectives. <br />
<br />
John goes for a walk.<br />
He goes for a walk.<br />
*His goes for a walk.<br />
<br />
Here's a little quiz for my kiddos.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgGq9vJSDbusT9T2JljtKUy6pIc5-EbYWyHt9gDP9IHxfF3IWkC4mpzayo0PaUvwhAYIezkrNIin6i0SooglLmmfdpC5MwsMUze1Dz-gPrZrtLXWv-dD1wiAjTj7jbIunLBXOaGQuZv8/s1600/delilahfall.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgGq9vJSDbusT9T2JljtKUy6pIc5-EbYWyHt9gDP9IHxfF3IWkC4mpzayo0PaUvwhAYIezkrNIin6i0SooglLmmfdpC5MwsMUze1Dz-gPrZrtLXWv-dD1wiAjTj7jbIunLBXOaGQuZv8/s640/delilahfall.jpg" width="640" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Deze cat doesn't go for a walk.</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Deze cat goes for a lengthy scratch.</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dat scratch makes me miss Scratch!</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1) Name the interjection.</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2) What part of speech is the word "lengthy". (I'll give ya a tootsie roll for this, 'cause it's a little confusing to me!) :)</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3) What languages do you think I think I'm speaking? Is it a real language? What language?</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4) One a scale of 1-10, how crazy do you think I am? :-)</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">5) Write a decent poem for this picture, would ya?!</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">6) Thank ya kindly.</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">7) Yeah, these last two don't really count, but if you do 'em I'll let you rub my feet. :)</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm nice like that.</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85807/heavenlyhome/d9c003cecfef485cbecbc5c15ffbfc81.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-65409191433629530102010-09-11T21:33:00.000-07:002010-09-11T21:33:00.595-07:00Eh?A.<br />
<br />
Breakthrough. My little man. The man who detests pincher skills, and getting those pinchers out of his vocal cavity. <br />
The trick, for all us stressed out mothers of finger-sucking boys. Thumb tack meets paper. Paper loses. Nothing like a little desctrucion for . . . Voila! Just hurry and take pictues before discovers his foot works just as well for holding down the paper as his wet little fingers. Then revel over and write about it weeks later. Just saying...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0kZ8GHVQcjNGQKiPPHfYM7OLbI7ltu4ZuAXlS4seXWug1VLQgfmN54lD5dAW1eI_GzM0w8SUOoaFz50VLKo3C9bljIRiW88s2ukF44qK_ECpqmtapp4KUSLRsk3Em0T0mb6g_MZEGjw/s640/DSCF8687.JPG" width="640" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1QrGdqnfS-3JnXUYgH9FRqeVruaU6PmCCvnwWRZ2mc_2cck5iWE9Utj0e2KEFXvD9uvP-vareM2drvwW4y68P7VXHsWQfrOiJk_Jp4ejUBOS2aT4Bx4bLeLwaRDTLcnmvqTZrlHz4EI/s1600/DSCF8688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1QrGdqnfS-3JnXUYgH9FRqeVruaU6PmCCvnwWRZ2mc_2cck5iWE9Utj0e2KEFXvD9uvP-vareM2drvwW4y68P7VXHsWQfrOiJk_Jp4ejUBOS2aT4Bx4bLeLwaRDTLcnmvqTZrlHz4EI/s640/DSCF8688.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZDbQH2vzfwNuiavZoFAQsbR00eBCtgwNvtV6BIZYVK-slvqa3-yM1InJiCXuNMB9T_k3i2oslRW9fXddHuPn054TxRpfJvSnl_LJrL2GI9f6kw5Dd4tNM1m78MeuC6Oo5Ip9uceyaoA/s1600/DSCF8689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZDbQH2vzfwNuiavZoFAQsbR00eBCtgwNvtV6BIZYVK-slvqa3-yM1InJiCXuNMB9T_k3i2oslRW9fXddHuPn054TxRpfJvSnl_LJrL2GI9f6kw5Dd4tNM1m78MeuC6Oo5Ip9uceyaoA/s640/DSCF8689.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQvgD8O6Lj1bvDY1pmiqVo-g-PK9hqXEG0NMcGtM0-dy69jL7dHkiCmO7EqmqxH3sHBtCYhyphenhyphenoaeFt0MvPo6oZMpECSN65KycsI3uYjac0A8C29tM0MzR1D25otBDoNoXwtSECJESzW1c/s1600/DSCF8690+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQvgD8O6Lj1bvDY1pmiqVo-g-PK9hqXEG0NMcGtM0-dy69jL7dHkiCmO7EqmqxH3sHBtCYhyphenhyphenoaeFt0MvPo6oZMpECSN65KycsI3uYjac0A8C29tM0MzR1D25otBDoNoXwtSECJESzW1c/s640/DSCF8690+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
He was very insistent that I get a good shot of the pin. 'Cause really, that's what it's all about, folks.<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85807/heavenlyhome/d9c003cecfef485cbecbc5c15ffbfc81.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-4715530125298935682010-09-10T21:12:00.000-07:002010-09-10T21:16:47.326-07:00think, think, thinkWhen I had my first child, I was obsessed with Pooh. I don't know if that has anything to do with my kids now being obsessed with poo, but we'll leave that story for another day. So, where was I? In the bathroom? <br />
<br />
Huh. Funny how that happens.<br />
<br />
Oh, yes. Think, think, think. One of the key phrases in our house came from Pooh, "think, think, think." Or when we were extra smarty, "piensa, piensa, piensa." Back then I knew how to spell it, now I'm gonna have to dictionary.com it, realize it's Spanish, and then go find a real dictionary. Nah, too much work; we'll survive.<br />
<br />
That's what it's all about, right? Survival? No? <br />
<br />
Huh. Funny how that happens.<br />
<br />
So in my direct way. *snort* I'm getting around to sharing a cool blog. It's called: <a href="http://kidswhothink.blogspot.com/">Think! A program designed to encourage kids to think outside the box.</a> I'm kind of relieved that it's for kids... I kinda feel off the hook from the whole thinking thing. And I'm okay with that. I think. <br />
<br />
Dang it.<br />
<br />
Soball.<br />
<br />
The kids did a pansy little challenge the other day. Or so I thought. I actually had to leave the room and put some earphones on in hopes of centering myself while they haggled around about the two pantry items. 'Cept it wasn't such a great idea, cause then my hearing aids just rang and rang. So I went and took the bag of marshmallows and snarfed the whole thing down. That was better.<br />
<br />
'Cept I didn't really. <br />
<br />
Shoulda. Coulda. <br />
<br />
I'm hungry, be right back.<br />
<br />
Mm-mmm,<br />
<br />
So the challenge: <br />
<blockquote>Food Creations ( I have a thing for food, so sadly, I couldn't resist.)</blockquote><blockquote>Choose 4 items from your pantry, 2 from your refrigerator and and 2 from your yard. You may use either tape, paperclips, or pencils as well. You may use other tools for construction but not in the solution. </blockquote><blockquote>Your challenge: make a vehicle.</blockquote><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbGeyMuogJqFiTsaOydxI4ymeyXGi6uoKhyUxUlf8tRYbZZhfXHMf603XxovfoyEJRl4fOnjLxKt7k4f09Mtgiz_0UVnRqejcr6auJHUShCZrh2nI59zf4vaw58I-Do4m8qaa_4rtHlY/s1600/DSCF8686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbGeyMuogJqFiTsaOydxI4ymeyXGi6uoKhyUxUlf8tRYbZZhfXHMf603XxovfoyEJRl4fOnjLxKt7k4f09Mtgiz_0UVnRqejcr6auJHUShCZrh2nI59zf4vaw58I-Do4m8qaa_4rtHlY/s640/DSCF8686.JPG" width="640" /></a> <br />
<br />
<br />
For as simple as it looks, (and I missed the stick exhaust pipe on the other side) and as painful as it was to begin the project with 5 different ideas (and marshmallows) rolling around I was impressed that they actually came up with something that passed for a vehicle. <br />
<br />
In my eyes, the true challenge was working as a group and enjoying the activity. Once they figured out I ate the marshmallows, er, how to listen to each other they were all smiles and laughs while asking for another challenge.<br />
<br />
I think the next one will entail cleaning out that basket above Megan's head. Or seeing how many mallows they can fit in my mouth. <br />
<br />
Something to float my boat.<br />
<br />
Funny how that happens.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85807/heavenlyhome/d9c003cecfef485cbecbc5c15ffbfc81.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-18590963834590514812010-08-29T21:14:00.000-07:002010-08-31T08:39:42.545-07:00Not-back-to-school photosI'm slow. Seriously slow. <br />
<br />
We've been homeschooling for close to three years now. I am finally starting a blog, and we took our first official "not-back-to-school-photos." Don't get me wrong, I sometimes obsessively take pictures of my kids doing random acts of, well, something, nothing, and everything in between. But after my friend Sunny took pictures of hers last year (and it was her <i>first</i> year!), a light went on in my head. (I think it was one of those with a smiley face on it, though I can't be sure...it doesn't show up all that often.) Anyhoo...I thought it was a great traditional school-y idea to keep up. I always loved seeing my physical changes from year to year.<br />
<br />
As for other slow stuff...maybe I'll actually start homeschooling this year, finish that year supply of laundry, and who knows, socialize my kids or something. I don't wanna set my heights too high though. We'll see. ;)<br />
<br />
'Nuff of my ramblings. Onto the kids. In alphabetical order:<br />
<br />
Cherith, 11<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zedm5Vh9EQCw-GYyhyphenhyphenY4b3TdUJC7hFYFilOW0Kth-EYvhokULGyavahMUrgC_INTJifIv4k8F5JlIPL1lQgUGW6mt1tK_jUZ24wG7X6p11OdcWx_7oHYO-dwL4Grf5YPFGtzY1D40gs/s1600/cher2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zedm5Vh9EQCw-GYyhyphenhyphenY4b3TdUJC7hFYFilOW0Kth-EYvhokULGyavahMUrgC_INTJifIv4k8F5JlIPL1lQgUGW6mt1tK_jUZ24wG7X6p11OdcWx_7oHYO-dwL4Grf5YPFGtzY1D40gs/s640/cher2010.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Daniel, 13<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhho29VGzesg119LoljG_orLecRe_q1QF-3Qj2Gg0gtefz5y_sxEJS4faW4L5j2FJ_3phANh1V0ge_3KpENKqMe7f1zeFF7reHsWb9grZ0kLo_tCxE-D9k7TypnDnyQWA47idwhZHR_wPM/s1600/dan2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhho29VGzesg119LoljG_orLecRe_q1QF-3Qj2Gg0gtefz5y_sxEJS4faW4L5j2FJ_3phANh1V0ge_3KpENKqMe7f1zeFF7reHsWb9grZ0kLo_tCxE-D9k7TypnDnyQWA47idwhZHR_wPM/s640/dan2010.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Ellie, 8<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpCoLAFXS7onuwwQh-1C1uIcItD4q8sL9UYbHDQhySfa1oo6WFKUCT-Ka4eXV63Av5Z4nVWJ_sBgbOZGBExNJqOGqakzvy2fIffQmM2YrbNJXJDyOrfdAXn3x-YyhhkKN3ErIW9XXyEE/s1600/ellie2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpCoLAFXS7onuwwQh-1C1uIcItD4q8sL9UYbHDQhySfa1oo6WFKUCT-Ka4eXV63Av5Z4nVWJ_sBgbOZGBExNJqOGqakzvy2fIffQmM2YrbNJXJDyOrfdAXn3x-YyhhkKN3ErIW9XXyEE/s640/ellie2010.jpg" width="457" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Megan, 10<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlVEeJzRK_oiRI18oCsdJJKE5uU3qz87mMVS7-UuPW_z-BsuxzyDFWD31aGOhreyPqPT2WlEcUZFG5Wct6bFg9e_LRNSleIIWQJjz1fIZJC82DZraMJ8B0qrJZtyZGF4tEPaCV3kg6Qw/s1600/megan2010vin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlVEeJzRK_oiRI18oCsdJJKE5uU3qz87mMVS7-UuPW_z-BsuxzyDFWD31aGOhreyPqPT2WlEcUZFG5Wct6bFg9e_LRNSleIIWQJjz1fIZJC82DZraMJ8B0qrJZtyZGF4tEPaCV3kg6Qw/s640/megan2010vin.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Thanny, 4<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjloULwhk6Iz6HpnkzzplGTVVzk6k3TD8EQWIUpjnWbudfs_xAz34OQUkzmG6JiRB01ZJ02ogUQS7KyDAM7Eq6f62ektO_F2dz6GF-OlzFzSZXDZRDf__KIgXikm3JTYE6R-QbfxbDg49A/s1600/thanny2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjloULwhk6Iz6HpnkzzplGTVVzk6k3TD8EQWIUpjnWbudfs_xAz34OQUkzmG6JiRB01ZJ02ogUQS7KyDAM7Eq6f62ektO_F2dz6GF-OlzFzSZXDZRDf__KIgXikm3JTYE6R-QbfxbDg49A/s640/thanny2010.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Rachel, 1 (next week can.not. happen. period. I refuse to have her turn two; Mama trumps. The end. Good-bye birthdays forever. The end . . . again.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xPc6OTyftF13pPMCK5-YScyQ5wbvjH6e2__eEk6BbHzZp9bCzbOKqQH6SfRvhNigPmp1keiRU_d9pKmLi66Gld3GN40n1jZnvCRtuXME20yXqnpdxfvb8akKeweW-TZhm1tuj1yIuPg/s1600/rachel2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xPc6OTyftF13pPMCK5-YScyQ5wbvjH6e2__eEk6BbHzZp9bCzbOKqQH6SfRvhNigPmp1keiRU_d9pKmLi66Gld3GN40n1jZnvCRtuXME20yXqnpdxfvb8akKeweW-TZhm1tuj1yIuPg/s640/rachel2010.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
By the way, what does alphabetical mean, exactly? :)Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-49462672804551865752010-06-27T21:04:00.000-07:002010-06-27T21:08:32.558-07:00Sometimes my cleaning is productive.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKAOzb_shvWyyNJ6vXCO12XMeYMjmjQg2k6KyLaC0rmR1JdamSeTGmBlhatgNQvdm90dqHw-91lh4l63VShnc8URmIFgmp-VA7a3e_EFwrq4MtNqTEbqKME3AtOMtmomBWFIUgFUMei_k/s1600/1stread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKAOzb_shvWyyNJ6vXCO12XMeYMjmjQg2k6KyLaC0rmR1JdamSeTGmBlhatgNQvdm90dqHw-91lh4l63VShnc8URmIFgmp-VA7a3e_EFwrq4MtNqTEbqKME3AtOMtmomBWFIUgFUMei_k/s640/1stread.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5kYRbKG-kyuZyp5pux3HRO9g8xj6tNm7CzSs9RjhT3u-5RweEZJGBVNZ7bc_9hN0aOaiwAmm1t3tI-vMn741UbD-NM3xTjl-5Xvd_G7wiTLTuTWa_ikUyMBHxWCB6O6hnGKBv4OVRLQ/s1600/1stbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5kYRbKG-kyuZyp5pux3HRO9g8xj6tNm7CzSs9RjhT3u-5RweEZJGBVNZ7bc_9hN0aOaiwAmm1t3tI-vMn741UbD-NM3xTjl-5Xvd_G7wiTLTuTWa_ikUyMBHxWCB6O6hnGKBv4OVRLQ/s640/1stbook.jpg" width="570" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I came across some little paper books from when my kids first learned to read and some sight word sheets. Thanny has tinkered with letters and sounds so I figured I'd toss 'em his way and see what was what. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fifteen minutes later he read his first book.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He was so proud.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was proud.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">His siblings were proud.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">His father was proud (he called him on the phone and read it, cause he was away making a deck.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I had to take a few shots of the proud.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhn4uY26gx5btXcQ2fTJ-Yu4TALZh1efC3bS5vbkj-nqExYP95NWmViexZRESG0niXUvRraPy-O1nC_-ZHqH6DvpehtExAG5tDS4Dphs0JXXrGoKRdF5lC0hFyD6cV8gD3vAuFD7Xo08s/s1600/celebrate2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="500" ru="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhn4uY26gx5btXcQ2fTJ-Yu4TALZh1efC3bS5vbkj-nqExYP95NWmViexZRESG0niXUvRraPy-O1nC_-ZHqH6DvpehtExAG5tDS4Dphs0JXXrGoKRdF5lC0hFyD6cV8gD3vAuFD7Xo08s/s640/celebrate2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Besides...it maybe years before he picks up a second book. <br />
<br />
He's kinda like me that way.<br />
<br />
'Preciate your sympathies. :)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85807/heavenlyhome/d9c003cecfef485cbecbc5c15ffbfc81.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-62345899664236401612010-06-03T17:55:00.000-07:002010-06-06T00:12:50.892-07:00If You Were<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIjO6EahhcG8_PqTQW447SDNKn0qs3djJAAEhfs8FZyiSmYMbfgk_h_7dwPo_Hwomu8fDFXPIlSS7st2TcLkzE2pWbLn4YaxVramCVt_IrXJmh0QtMG9sKw17Igu_FMWRaTSeTGtncSk/s1600/IMG_2018+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirIjO6EahhcG8_PqTQW447SDNKn0qs3djJAAEhfs8FZyiSmYMbfgk_h_7dwPo_Hwomu8fDFXPIlSS7st2TcLkzE2pWbLn4YaxVramCVt_IrXJmh0QtMG9sKw17Igu_FMWRaTSeTGtncSk/s640/IMG_2018+copy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(an old but dear-to-me picture; the boys were cheering up a sulking sister with dandelions)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We had our first official poetry reading for "tea-time Thursday" today. I got the idea from Bravewriter, I just love her stuff. The way we're supposed to do it is with our best china (don't have any, whoops we're ruined!), tea (lemonade or milk for us), and cookies (no problem here). Then, in a nutshell, you snack while reading / sharing poetry. <br />
<br />
Cherith shared a poem from my new favorite book, <em>The</em> <em>Book of Virtues by </em>William J. Bennett:<br />
<br />
"If You Were"<br />
<br />
If you were busy being kind,<br />
Before you knew it, you would find<br />
You'd soon forget to think 'twas true<br />
That someone was unkind to you.<br />
<br />
If you were busy being glad,<br />
And cheering people who are sad,<br />
Although your heart might ache a bit,<br />
You'd soon forget to notice it.<br />
<br />
If you were busy being good,<br />
And doing just the best you could,<br />
You'd not have time to blame some man<br />
Who's doing just the best he can.<br />
<br />
If you were busy being right,<br />
You'd find yourself too busy quite<br />
To criticize your neighbor long<br />
Because he's busy being wrong.<br />
<br />
It was the highlight of our tea-time that isn't really tea time. The kids decided they wanted to memorize it. I'm thinking about trying to live it. ;)<br />
<br />
*milk cheers*<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85807/heavenlyhome/d9c003cecfef485cbecbc5c15ffbfc81.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-28576970162607240742010-06-01T12:57:00.000-07:002010-06-03T20:19:58.516-07:00Copywork and Observational Drawing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFeuKEy9yV5tl2k9PWzPoFHRYw_rm9IXPIAHJhbw5PUsWXcX4OC8xrh37KyfR9lChgeCssJNa__DYYEXFEC0BoFQ-ooEN-Ln8saNi8-Nlmtkuiavctkv5bjcx4GAwgT4i7hE3nsZ6CN0/s1600/img020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFeuKEy9yV5tl2k9PWzPoFHRYw_rm9IXPIAHJhbw5PUsWXcX4OC8xrh37KyfR9lChgeCssJNa__DYYEXFEC0BoFQ-ooEN-Ln8saNi8-Nlmtkuiavctkv5bjcx4GAwgT4i7hE3nsZ6CN0/s640/img020.jpg" width="494" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Two of my favorite homeschool activities: copywork and observational drawing. I think they're pretty self-explanatory. <em>Copywork </em>is simply copying good writing taking special note of spelling, puncuation, and handwriting. <em>Observational drawing</em> is observing for detail and drawing what you observe. I think they teach much more than art and <strike>cheating</strike> copying. =)<br />
<br />
They help me to slow down and notice things I might not in an otherwise busy day. They encourage (I hope) one (my kids!) to focus and study the creations around them as well as the way our language comes together to form its own kind of beauty.<br />
<br />
This is mine from last night. I encourage the kids to spend at least 10-15 minutes on their drawing. I did mine at midnight. Can you tell where I started falling asleep and stopped paying attention to detail? The kids asked me today, "Oh, you just let Rachel scribble on that part?" <br />
<br />
Uh...no.<br />
<br />
: /Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-70663521776227701412010-05-26T20:33:00.000-07:002010-06-03T20:23:09.756-07:00In the kitchen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love it when he spikes his hair. Well, what I mean is...once I spiked his hair without him knowing it and I loved it! Getting a picture...I shoulda bribed him. After about a billion attempts:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8Io0Bw1NNXeiIAxqz5A-pNG5tWS04gaah8Q7d7KwmdrPwiuww1u-y9JlATU-W2gVZJcX7-wGxcz2CPCro97EWcGamn8nntk3Uk6l-xARdyUAiS8NKNVkDzO_aBSgTCA0aASDVoeUU80/s1600/thelook1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy8Io0Bw1NNXeiIAxqz5A-pNG5tWS04gaah8Q7d7KwmdrPwiuww1u-y9JlATU-W2gVZJcX7-wGxcz2CPCro97EWcGamn8nntk3Uk6l-xARdyUAiS8NKNVkDzO_aBSgTCA0aASDVoeUU80/s640/thelook1.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>So I left him alone hoping he'd think I moved on to other things. That usually works. The girls were sweatin' it out in the kitchen making cookies all by themselves. My heart's always aflutter when my kids are working together creating. Whether it be creating food, art, music, food, or (especially) relationships. Flutter away, my heart.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4OEsem6IMDKSA6eiFtqSJWnWOtYmBuFZ_xha3HRw8B43h3_3HU-zLCdd8cmgccZELtJrNrpDVdJGzWnKetkrepGAG19vR4mFlS0ID2ue4tEgIQSQ-nRqRqRjU3n30BvJwNZFhshvVCw/s1600/bakin4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4OEsem6IMDKSA6eiFtqSJWnWOtYmBuFZ_xha3HRw8B43h3_3HU-zLCdd8cmgccZELtJrNrpDVdJGzWnKetkrepGAG19vR4mFlS0ID2ue4tEgIQSQ-nRqRqRjU3n30BvJwNZFhshvVCw/s640/bakin4.jpg" width="499" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwuPSU7SAgJtXVc6XkM1atIG4iv0-mpfYawyFDJS1xa4UxnnpLIphLpf4Z3lmLcoBBE6Fl2jfyHtIMplSuGuP7MK-eBoStyXLLf7bj0Ed689duaPhy3hU5WpEjxw16jUSPQwPtbtxSpc/s1600/bakin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwuPSU7SAgJtXVc6XkM1atIG4iv0-mpfYawyFDJS1xa4UxnnpLIphLpf4Z3lmLcoBBE6Fl2jfyHtIMplSuGuP7MK-eBoStyXLLf7bj0Ed689duaPhy3hU5WpEjxw16jUSPQwPtbtxSpc/s640/bakin.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then! he snuck in to ogle the cookie dough. He quickly tried to flatten his hair, but I got him! He knew it...this might possibly be my most favorite expression ever. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvJ6rNjAKMCj6OuARrKpQNQKrKb3nn5Ishr5ZD24GEPSkGldzP_an2Y8ktN_3DHitzF2Pd9VRDXsvvt7COxW6ew2mvAWPmu1LnKNFGDZ2DBRbINM6ipanI_HmpyYls-2ts-cfzz24jio/s1600/spike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvJ6rNjAKMCj6OuARrKpQNQKrKb3nn5Ishr5ZD24GEPSkGldzP_an2Y8ktN_3DHitzF2Pd9VRDXsvvt7COxW6ew2mvAWPmu1LnKNFGDZ2DBRbINM6ipanI_HmpyYls-2ts-cfzz24jio/s640/spike.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's my favorite treat ever. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXouWrcUjO_QOmFI3TI3dYKBe2jgndsGe3CMD0CdxrwRs7YgpOg-Sp2qRsQlGVea7jdoBUeP9y9zzEGRnyovkYVDPi8EzfnBm3PZ5YgtLPoLPW1nDjTzXaLKhISCToRtZd17_I87dE3cA/s1600/bakin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXouWrcUjO_QOmFI3TI3dYKBe2jgndsGe3CMD0CdxrwRs7YgpOg-Sp2qRsQlGVea7jdoBUeP9y9zzEGRnyovkYVDPi8EzfnBm3PZ5YgtLPoLPW1nDjTzXaLKhISCToRtZd17_I87dE3cA/s640/bakin2.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Good.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Finger lickin' good, I tell ya.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5iWHTZstN0n2n2O-8B1uKQY3th3W3DIU52r9sMNAnS-C1ATcZKELsGoahlvbXlY46YVVT34miWKBfAW2Tq9hVPTsolcxBS-ElL4F0RLoyeD64dw9B4XuWm5_nwKZcvJFbvYa7YQUXPE/s1600/bakin1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5iWHTZstN0n2n2O-8B1uKQY3th3W3DIU52r9sMNAnS-C1ATcZKELsGoahlvbXlY46YVVT34miWKBfAW2Tq9hVPTsolcxBS-ElL4F0RLoyeD64dw9B4XuWm5_nwKZcvJFbvYa7YQUXPE/s320/bakin1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Thank you, ladies. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Please come again...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">my bowl's empty!</div>Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4669783588240464215.post-19474488728257966612010-05-25T13:26:00.000-07:002010-06-03T17:32:24.620-07:00Creating and BecomingSo I have a new blog. Not exactly sure why. I've been thinking of a homeschooling blog for quite some time. Two years in fact. I wrote a nice 6 paragraph post here earlier, that has met the recycle bin. Too wordy, too opinionated, too jumbled, too...me. Or something.<br />
<br />
Anyway. Going with the flow of the title, I'm hoping to use this blog to document some of the creating and...how'd ya guess...becoming. Whatever that means. (I really don't mean to be so confusing, so sorry.)<br />
<br />
Since I can't quite explain what I mean, I'll share some of the inspirational quotes that drove me here. In a nutshell, it's the best I can give for my "philosophy" on homeschool.<br />
<br />
<strong>Creating</strong><br />
<blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><a href="http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&locale=0&sourceId=15674bb52a73d110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD">The Work of Creation</a> (click for the full article, I just took some of my favorite parts)<br />
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<blockquote>. . . Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.<br />
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Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty....<br />
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. . . remember that you are spirit {children} of the most creative Being in the universe. Isn’t it remarkable to think that your very spirits are fashioned by an endlessly creative and eternally compassionate God? Think about it—your spirit body is a masterpiece, created with a beauty, function, and capacity beyond imagination.<br />
<br />
But to what end were we created? We were created with the express purpose and potential of experiencing a fulness of joy. Our birthright—and the purpose of our great voyage on this earth—is to seek and experience eternal happiness. One of the ways we find this is by creating things.<br />
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If you are a mother, you participate with God in His work of creation—not only by providing physical bodies for your children but also by teaching and nurturing them. If you are not a mother now, the creative talents you develop will prepare you for that day, in this life or the next.<br />
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You may think you don’t have talents, but that is a false assumption, for we all have talents and gifts, every one of us. The bounds of creativity extend far beyond the limits of a canvas or a sheet of paper and do not require a brush, a pen, or the keys of a piano. Creation means bringing into existence something that did not exist before—colorful gardens, harmonious homes, family memories, flowing laughter.<br />
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. . . If you still feel incapable of creating, start small. Try to see how many smiles you can create, write a letter of appreciation, learn a new skill, identify a space and beautify it.<br />
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. . . The more you trust and rely upon the Spirit, the greater your capacity to create. That is your opportunity in this life and your destiny in the life to come. ...trust and rely on the Spirit. As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life and create something of beauty and helpfulness, you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you. --President Dieter F. Uchtdorf</blockquote></blockquote><strong>Becoming</strong> <br />
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I ran across this the other day in the titled "The Book of Virtues" by William J. Bennett. I just love it! Lots of classic stories and poems. Here's a bit that spoke to my soul.<br />
<blockquote><blockquote>Today we speak about values and how it is important to "have them," as if they were beads on a string or marbles in a pouch. But these stories speak to morality and virtues not as something to be possessed, but as the central part of hman nature, not as something to have but as something to be, the most important thing to be. ...{there was a time when} there was little doubt that children are essentially moral and spiritual beings and that the central task of education is virtue.</blockquote></blockquote><br />
There you have it...my two (borrowed) cents. <br />
<br />
I think they're beautiful.<br />
<br />
:)Danehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05071563792031800822noreply@blogger.com0