I'm not so new anymore but back when I was new here's what happened: after three days of "teaching" my sixth grade son at home, I realized our relationship would never recover from an entire year of math worksheets, English lessons, and the feelings of frustration which marked the end of our, admittedly few, days. So this blog documents our first year of unschooling--the good, the bad, and the better--and then it just keeps on going...
February 18, 2009
I Would Just Like To Say
that writing a blog post about your leaky bra on the same day that a newsletter goes out to several thousand writers and said newsletter happens to have a description of your blog with a link and you happen to be the editor of that newsletter (so you're assumed to have some semblance of dignity in your life because none of the readers know you and people generally think of editors as people who have their shit together) is not the best idea. It can cause serious anxiety when you're driving down the freeway in the rain and you suddenly realize that when you attend the next meeting many of the attendees will be looking at you in an entirely new light. It's downright embarrassing.
February 16, 2009
Photo Flashbacks
I'm afraid you'll be getting a lot of this from now on. I've been going through my grandma's photos and some of them are just so great I have to share.
This is me and my grandma in 1970 at my Uncle Jess's gas station. That's Jess in the background.
Here's me and my mom going for a bike ride. My mom always told me her dad wouldn't let her wear mini-skirts to school. But look at the length on that thing. Suddenly Grandpa doesn't seem like such a tyrant!
Four generations: my mom and me, looking very fashionable in matching crocheted dresses, my great-grandma, and my grandma.
I love this photo of my mom. I love the car, the picnic basket, and her smile.
Me striking a pose and my sister looking like she's not so sure she wants to be inside the mouth of a giant plastic frog.
There's that "Get me outta here" look on my sister again.
That's it for today.
This is me and my grandma in 1970 at my Uncle Jess's gas station. That's Jess in the background.
Here's me and my mom going for a bike ride. My mom always told me her dad wouldn't let her wear mini-skirts to school. But look at the length on that thing. Suddenly Grandpa doesn't seem like such a tyrant!
Four generations: my mom and me, looking very fashionable in matching crocheted dresses, my great-grandma, and my grandma.
I love this photo of my mom. I love the car, the picnic basket, and her smile.
Me striking a pose and my sister looking like she's not so sure she wants to be inside the mouth of a giant plastic frog.
There's that "Get me outta here" look on my sister again.
That's it for today.
February 12, 2009
Furniture Dreams
Last night, for the third night in a row, I had a dream about furniture. The first night it was just generic furniture that I didn't have room for. The second it was the bedroom set I had as a child (all white with gold trim) and last night it was a very modern looking sofa. In every dream I have to move other furniture out of the way to make room for the new stuff and I can never figure out where it's all going to go.
It's almost like real life except in real life it's only happened twice so far. First, there was the grandma that died and her stuff (not so much furniture as boxes of paperwork). Then, there was the grandma that had to move and couldn't take her furniture. We have her bedroom set in the guest room now and a hutch, also in the guest room, sitting in the middle of the floor because I don't know where to put it.
So I have this abundance of stuff and I'm listening to the Poisonwood Bible on CD (one of my very favorite books), which has me wondering why we need so much stuff in the first place. Obviously I don't need the extra furniture. I just can't stand to think of it going to the Goodwill and being in the home of a person who doesn't know how I used to open the top dresser drawer to look at my grandma's jewelry for hours at a time. Or how the hutch sat directly behind the chair where my grandma would sit, with her feet up on a little stool (which is now at my cousin's house in Texas), while watching television. The furniture is all caught up in the memories and I guess I feel like letting go of the furniture will erase the memories. Silly, I know.
I did buy a fabulous quilt for my grandma's bed, though. I'm not crazy about the style of the furniture (it's old but not yet antique) so I decided I needed to treat myself to a quilt to make the furniture feel more like it belongs here and it worked like a charm. I also happened upon a lucky find while Jerry was at Japanese class yesterday: silk curtains on sale for 70% off! They were still expensive but we've been living with a sheet up over the french doors in our bedroom for about four years now because I refuse to put up curtains I don't like. So, sure, it was a lot of money when we're supposed to be saving, but if you take the amount of money I spent on the curtains and divide it by the number of days (1,460!) we've been waiting for reasonably priced curtains, they were practically free!
I'm sorry to be so boring lately. I did have a humiliating mishap involving my gel-filled bra yesterday. The bra is meant to provide "a natural shape, add a size, uplift, and enhance cleavage all in one" and it has for a good many years, done just that. Yes, it's the poor woman's boob job. And, sure, it's more safe than having a saline leak inside your body--and a lot less painful. But an internal leak is not going to show up on your shirt as a gigantic wet spot on your boob that you don't notice until after you've gone shopping and picked up your son from his Japanese lesson. And that's all I have to say about that.
I think I'll take the dog for a walk and see if I can get the kid to come along.
It's almost like real life except in real life it's only happened twice so far. First, there was the grandma that died and her stuff (not so much furniture as boxes of paperwork). Then, there was the grandma that had to move and couldn't take her furniture. We have her bedroom set in the guest room now and a hutch, also in the guest room, sitting in the middle of the floor because I don't know where to put it.
So I have this abundance of stuff and I'm listening to the Poisonwood Bible on CD (one of my very favorite books), which has me wondering why we need so much stuff in the first place. Obviously I don't need the extra furniture. I just can't stand to think of it going to the Goodwill and being in the home of a person who doesn't know how I used to open the top dresser drawer to look at my grandma's jewelry for hours at a time. Or how the hutch sat directly behind the chair where my grandma would sit, with her feet up on a little stool (which is now at my cousin's house in Texas), while watching television. The furniture is all caught up in the memories and I guess I feel like letting go of the furniture will erase the memories. Silly, I know.
I did buy a fabulous quilt for my grandma's bed, though. I'm not crazy about the style of the furniture (it's old but not yet antique) so I decided I needed to treat myself to a quilt to make the furniture feel more like it belongs here and it worked like a charm. I also happened upon a lucky find while Jerry was at Japanese class yesterday: silk curtains on sale for 70% off! They were still expensive but we've been living with a sheet up over the french doors in our bedroom for about four years now because I refuse to put up curtains I don't like. So, sure, it was a lot of money when we're supposed to be saving, but if you take the amount of money I spent on the curtains and divide it by the number of days (1,460!) we've been waiting for reasonably priced curtains, they were practically free!
I'm sorry to be so boring lately. I did have a humiliating mishap involving my gel-filled bra yesterday. The bra is meant to provide "a natural shape, add a size, uplift, and enhance cleavage all in one" and it has for a good many years, done just that. Yes, it's the poor woman's boob job. And, sure, it's more safe than having a saline leak inside your body--and a lot less painful. But an internal leak is not going to show up on your shirt as a gigantic wet spot on your boob that you don't notice until after you've gone shopping and picked up your son from his Japanese lesson. And that's all I have to say about that.
I think I'll take the dog for a walk and see if I can get the kid to come along.
February 11, 2009
And You Thought This Was An Unschooling Blog
I know. I've hardly mentioned unschooling or homeschooling or schooling of any kind in weeks. And I'm not going to mention it today either. I'm overwhelmed with getting my grandmothers estate in order and I beg you all to leave crystal clear instructions and lists of bank accounts, credit cards and the like for the family you'll leave behind when you die. Please!
Since I can't form a coherent thought these days I'm going to leave you with a video instead. It's political. Or it's just about love. Or fear. You decide.
Since I can't form a coherent thought these days I'm going to leave you with a video instead. It's political. Or it's just about love. Or fear. You decide.
February 5, 2009
4th File, 4th Photo
I was tagged by ShadyLady at My World Behind Big Shades. And since nothing went wrong yesterday (because the Fates were just too chicken to mess with me!) I actually have time to do it. It's also short and quick--that helps. Plus, I'm trying to avoid working on that newsletter. Anyway, here are the rules:
We were literally just off the plane from L.A. We took a taxi to the hotel (Warren had arrived two weeks prior and was at work on the film "Eragon"), dumped our luggage in our room, and took the tube to the London Eye. It was freezing and windy and rainy---but the little pod was warm.
Here's Jerry inside the pod, with Big Ben in the background:
1. Go to the 4th picture folder on your computer.So, my 4th folder is Travel and the 4th file (I know I took an extra step there but there were just more files in the Travel folder) is London/Paris/Ireland '06 and the 4th photo is one I took while Jerry and I were waiting to get onto the London Eye:
2. Post the 4th picture in that folder.
3. Explain the picture.
4. Tag 4 more bloggers.
Here's Jerry inside the pod, with Big Ben in the background:
You're it!
February 4, 2009
Dangerous Post
Nothing is going to go wrong today. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining. The Observatory and Hollywood sign are clearly visible from our lovely new deck (that means clean air!). The mouse that the cat brought in last night is resting peacefully outside my house. My car is still in the shop (after five days) but the mechanic swears it will be ready by noon so we can make it to Jerry's Japanese lesson. Our guest bedroom smells exactly like my grandma (now that it's full of her furniture), which is a wonderful thing. And I am going to get that newsletter finished by the time I go to bed tonight (or maybe tomorrow night) if it's the last thing I do.
I defy Fate to throw me a curve ball that I can't hit today.
I defy Fate to throw me a curve ball that I can't hit today.
February 3, 2009
Ah, Life!
It loves to throw a curve ball now and then. Yesterday morning I received an e-mail from a friend asking for people to hold both of her grandfathers in their thoughts, as they had both ended up in the hospital at the same time (one in a diabetic coma and the second after having a series of seizures). I wrote back, sending my love and letting her know my grandmother had just died. I also wrote "If anything were to happen to my other grandma right now I just don't think I could take it."
So it's my own fault, really. I was tempting fate. I thought I couldn't take it and fate thought, "I bet you can. Watch." It's nothing horrible, really. She's still alive. It's just that within minutes of sending that e-mail I received an e-mail from my cousin that read:
So it's my own fault, really. I was tempting fate. I thought I couldn't take it and fate thought, "I bet you can. Watch." It's nothing horrible, really. She's still alive. It's just that within minutes of sending that e-mail I received an e-mail from my cousin that read:
It's been a while since I've emailed....how are things? Dennis [that's my biological father--we only speak to each other if we have to] had to move Grandma Nolie to a full care facility this weekend. Her demeanor has really changed just recently [dementia--apparently she had a shoving match with one of the servers in the cafeteria]. The new place she is in is smaller and already furnished so I wanted to know if there were anything that you would like to take home. I am planning on having the sofa and chairs shipped here to Texas along with a mirror. If you don't want the china that she has I would take that too. I just want to keep some of her things in the family. Hopefully you can get back to me today as it is costing $1000 / week to keep the apartment until we can empty it. Call if that would be easier. Hope to hear from you soon.So even though my plan for the week was to wallow in self pity (Why did I delete Grandma's last voicemail message?! Why didn't I go over her estate with her while she was alive?! Why do I have a sinus infection now of all times!? Why do Grandmas have to die anyway!?) while getting together the newsletter that I edit for a writers group (Why did I say I would edit their newsletter!?) I've had to shift gears. Yesterday I met my dad at my grandma's and packed up some of her stuff. Today we are renting a truck so we can bring some of her furniture up to our house. Today we are also taking Jerry to the orthodontist and going on a field trip to the Long Beach Aquarium. I'm not sure how we'll fit it all in but I'm not complaining. I'm not going to tempt fate to throw anything else my way.
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