All about H. Well, not entirely.

So, H is 8 now. I didn’t do a birthday post. Because I am inconsistent, essentially. But no matter! Because there are other significant childhood things to document! I am feeling proud of H lately. He is a big allowance saver. For instance, he saved his allowance (which was only $1.75 per week then), plus did extra chores, and also saved any gift money that came his way for about a year to buy himself a guitar. That was last fall, though — it’s not really news. More recently, he saved up for a fishing pole. Since then, he’s been fishing more. Here’s his first fish:

I have never seen a smaller fish hooked. You could almost not distinguish it from the bait, hanging at the end of the line when he pulled it up.

And, a few days later, his second fish. It might technically be his third. I’m not totally sure. But it was a trout, not a chub!

You can see it better! It’s bigger than the width of his hand!

Fishing is a thing that requires patience. The first time I took H fishing, over a year ago, he didn’t get anything. Which is not shocking. In fact, I’ve since learned that that spot is a terrible place to fish — I’ve never gotten anything, not even many nibbles. Anyway, H thought that when one went fishing it meant immediately pulling fish after fish out of the water.  Little waiting, sure pay-off. It was difficult to convince him that wasn’t the normal experience. So I was pleased to see his interest, and have been pleased to see his patience paying off, finally, too.

And then there’s the little matter of hiking Cat Mountain with his dad last weekend — a 10-mile trip. Since H is typically a pretty whiney hiker, I was extremely concerned that this trip would sour him on hiking pretty much forever, what with Brad insisting on going on, and H insisting he hates the whole idea. But nope, that apparently not what happened.

On the way.

At the top.

On the way back down. Note that he is still smiling, after having walked, um, like seven miles, some of it on steep terrain.

Then H finished second grade.

Last day! Now I’m a third grader! A home-schooled third grader….

In non-eldest child developments, I finally got access to my study sites. Finally. After months. Now the only issue is lab access. Oh, yeah. And money. Also, having a firm study plan. Details, you know. Withoug disclosing any details on location, here are my sites. It’s all super secret, you know.

Site N. I have a flair for romantic names, I guess. AKA, The Place With No Birds For Some Reason.

Equally romantic Site S. With 100% more ducks! And one wooded edge, which makes me a little irrationally worried about mountain lions. I need to stop listening to people’s worst wilderness stories. It’s like watching A Baby Story when pregnant.

Random picture of me that H took. I don’t usually post pictures of myself, because I have that common neurosis of hating pictures of myself. But this is the best picture H has ever taken of me. Normally, they’re so awful I could just…. well, just delete them, I guess.

Cannot think of a reason to give why I put this photo in. I just like it.

Good dog

So my dog, Emerson, is a handful. He really is a sweetie, but some days his exuberance and energy are a bit much. I knew this before we got him, and I’m not really suprised, but some days on the ground are on the exhausting side.

But yesterday he really earned his kibble (plus treats). The kids, Emerson, and I were in the front yard messing about when Emerson suddenly took off barking his “threat” bark — straight toward (I thought) one of the Ranger School students. I can often call him off if he’s worried about a person, but he didn’t call off when I yelled. A moment later I saw it was actually a strange dog. Emerson had headed him off at the edge of the yard, and they were going through the usual dog get-acquainted rituals, when the strange dog made a beeline toward my kids. I had no hope of stopping of blocking him, so I just watched apprehensively. He was streaking toward them in that purposeful way a dog will take off after a deer or a rabbit or something, so I really didn’t know what would happen.

Know what happened? Emerson decided he didn’t like what was going down. So he ran alongside the strange dog and herded him away from the kids. Stood between the kids and the strange dog. Herded him away again. Again. Again. Until the dog’s owner successfully called him away.

I don’t think that strange dog was a true threat (saw him again today). But Emerson correctly assessed the situation to know that the dog’s intent was unclear, and he took the initiative to take care of business, using the least force needed. He was effective, serious, and in control of himself.

Dudes, I am ready. I have been ready since winter, at least. Look at me.

In short, he was fabulous.

Thank you Emerson!
And look what Mom did to our hair yesterday. She’s a menace with clippers.

Three years, a day late

Three years ago

Two years ago

One year ago

Four days ago

Bwahahahaha

Your heart's desire was a tricycle, and sometimes we get our hearts' desire.

Happy third birthday, baby little C.

Costumes in a box

My mom is moving sometime soon. To that end, she is doing a lot of housecleaning, and in an effort to ease that process I’m saying yes to pretty much everything she mentions maybe wanting to send me.

So I got two boxes of costumes along with handmade apparel from my childhood and teenage years. Some of the dresses I made, and some my mom made. There are a few shirts my mom made for herself, although I can’t honestly recall seeing her wear those particular shirts. There are many child-sized costumes.

I normally am careful not to hoard stuff. I believe myself to be a person who throws things away heartlessly, and puts them into a scrapbook or something right away if not. But that is not true, really. I can’t get rid of any of the handmade items in those boxes. I have too many back issues of Piecework on my shelves (hoarding them?) to be able to toss aside handwork.

Poor Brad, having to live with increasing amounts of handwork. At least I have been able to discipline myself  at thrift stores and not buy sadly tossed-aside, beautiful handmade textiles. Mostly.

Further change of heart

In addition to thinking that parents who dreaded the coming of school were crazy, I have in the past believed that people who spin from the fold are wusses, big-time. Especially people who are spinning cotton or silk from the fold. The staple is too short! The fiber is too slippery. Wah, wah, wah.

Well, it’s best to spin “Milk Silk” from Greenwood Fiberworks from the fold. Honestly. Because it’s slippery and short (both at the same time! I still maintain that spinning silk, with it’s mile-long staple, and cotton, with its adequate grip, from the fold is wussy.)

Late summer, zip zip zip, birthday

In the past I’ve not understood those parents who bemoan the start of the school year. I mean, I love my kids as much as anybody, but after a whole summer of having them around, frankly, I was always looking forward to a little more silence.(Not total silence, you understand, since only one of my boys is in school and the other is with me every second of every day, mostly.) Anyway, that’s how I used to feel. This year I was filled with sadness at the start of school, because it was the end of things like:

Makin' rainbows with the hose sprayer

H had swimming lessons. They were great, but pictures of kids doing swimming lessons are awful. This one of C, waiting, is much more interesting and entertaining.

But swimming lessons lead to increased confidence, and that lead to wonderful scenes like this one out in the river. It's like they're forging across the ocean, H inspired by his future, and C just doggedly keeping up. They're really only 10 feet from shore.

Puppy, worn out from all the swimming.

So help me, someday we will drive real tractors.

Down-time during summer

Going to amusement parks.

Riding the helicopters. Apparently I was the only one having fun.

H as Mini-Lancelot in the Missoula Children's Theatre production of "King Arthur's Quest"

So then school started. I considered home-schooling H this year, but I think he has a good (I’ve heard great) teacher. Maybe next year. I think at least some homeschooling is beneficial to a kiddo, but I also think going to the school is valuable. Why not mix it up? We’ll see. I wish there were a way to do a half-home/half-school thing at public schools. I can understand why there isn’t, though. I hesitate to join the homeschoolers in part because as a whole they present a really insufferable holier-than-thou self-image. Not all of them — one family in Wanakena homeschools and both children and parents are quite lovely. However, there is a big heap of speshul snowflakiness about the movement overall that makes me feel like I’m biting aluminum. Also, middle-class entitlement is just rampant. Blech. Yet, I like being around H and think I’d like to nurture his enthusiasm for learning and make sure he’s not just bored all the time (a couple of years ago, I really needed a break from him more often and felt I lacked the patience for home education, leaving that to the pros. Not so much now.) I don’t flatter myself that I can educate him better than professional teachers, but I do think some time doing the passion-based learning thing is beneficial. Other than summertime, I mean… so anyway, no news there, just rumination. School started again.

First day back from second grade

C is so jealous that H gets to ride the bus. He posed for a first-day-of-second-grade picture too, just to be part of things school-ish.

So now this kind of stuff is mostly relegated to weekends (except for I’m taking him out of school one day per month for field trips. We’re going to a modern-dance-for-kids show on Wednesday in Potsdam.)

At the lean-to, trying to kick a stump over. Didn't work.

If you are using that thing to steal my soul, you better at least have a bit of hot dog for me.

Emerson continues to get bigger, duh. He’s about half-grown (weight-wise) now and Brad and I took him on a long-ish hike yesterday (sans children — my birthday present). It was a popular trail, and crowded, so he was on leash the whole time, pulling us uuuuuup the mountain and doooooown the mountain. We’re working on things…

What We Did on our Summer Vacation

 

C felt silly.

These ARE my pajamas.

H finished first grade.

No more first grade!

Then C felt serious.

Seriously.

We went on a long car trip to states nether.

We camped and hung out with Brad’s family at his uncles’ cabin in the Loyalsock State Forest, Pennsylvania. My kids saw their first fire flies (yay! so yay! I like fireflies more than they do, it turns out, but still yay!)

High Knob Overlook

We drove to Oxford, PA, to Brad’s parents’ house.

In the cherry tree Brad planted in high school

We went to a minor league baseball game in Maryland and saw the fireworks, very close and loud.

We rode on an old steam train through farm country.

Mom-mom and Pop-pop and Kid-kids

We drove to Delaware and met up with Chris and Olivia. We ate crab. We camped at Cape Henlopen State Park. We saw dolphins.

I swear, those dots are dolphins.

We dug in the sand.

We played in the surf.

We relaxed in the shade. It was pretty much the perfect day on the beach.
We drove back to Oxford. We hung around. I melted a green crayon in my mother-in-law’s new dryer. No pictures.

We drove home. We picked up our new puppy on the way.

Hello, I'm Emerson and this is the only picture I stayed stil for.