He is 40.

On this day in 1976, my dear husband was born. I was five at the time, and doubtless would have found him adorable.

I made a cake and there was apparently an earthquake while I went to pick the kids up from school. We got home to continental SHIFT. It did still taste okay. Is it a Y? The Ganges delta?

 He is the dear one with whom I get to navigate the fault lines. Isn't that a gift?

The kids all spent their own money to buy him presents at Gander Mountain. Harper got him a utility knife sort of thing to put on his keychain, Hudson got him a folding knife ($32!!! of his own money!),  Helena got him a box of Tic-Tacs (he LOVES them, she said firmly), and I got him some throwing knives to replace the ones he lost on our last camping trip. So, it was a Weapons-Intensive Birthday. You never know what a new decade might bring.

We are thankful he is ours.

Harper turned 10! (8 months ago)

I had some issues with my asthma last week and had to take a round of steroids. Which made it hard to sleep. Which meant I spent several hours late one night reading back over this blog. I know blogging has been overshadowed by pithier, more photogenic modes of sharing, but blogging still makes me happy, even though I don't actually post very often. I finally did Helena's birthday interview this weekend (3 weeks late, and I didn't do it the previous 2 years), have yet to do Hudson's (one month late, and counting) and never did Harper's back in May. So, instead of letting myself be consumed with regret, I will just carry on as I am able.

So, just a random assortment of pictures taken from the day of her birthday, and also some of the crafty creativity she has been up to lately. That last treasure is the box she made for her Valentine party. She disappeared for a few hours the day before, and knitted a charming woodland scene. Also, I included one of her holding her friend Hannah's pet chicken.

A museum of cedar waxwings outside the library

We were walking into our library a few weeks ago and heard an unfamiliar twittering. We were delighted to discover a flock (or museum, or ear-full--but who wants to think about wax and ears in the same adjective phrase?) of cedar waxwings having a feast of red berries in a yaupon tree. I am sorry to report that once inside the library I told one acquaintance (who had her five kids in tow) and one absolute stranger that they should RUN outside and behold the waxwings!! The Crazy Bird Lady pecks again.

I tried to paint it this morning, and would like to contrast my cedar waxwing with a pair of cardinals Harper painted over Christmas break. She is officially better than I am. She has a gift for animating her creatures that I don't think can be taught.

We have entered the world of team sports. Hudson is on a basketball team with some friends from school. He scored his first basket on Saturday (along with a free throw) and the Grandparents Pate were here to watch, which made it even more exciting. He has a birthday coming up this week, so we went to Escalantes before the game to celebrate. Our waiter figured out the birthday, plopped a velvet sombrero on Hudson's head, and crooned out a birthday ballad en espanol. Hudson was MORTIFIED (which proves birthday aversion might be genetic) and even the tres leches couldn't assuage his consternation. (sidenote: I can't eat tres leches, because while I love cake, I can't abide wet cake.)

When we were doing school at home Thursday, I found this note. My mom gave Harper her old typewriter last time we visited, and I gave her some replacement ribbons in her stocking.

"TOP SECRET DDSTROY AFTER READING!
Hudson,
something bad is going to happen.  That is all I can say. Because I do not know what the bad thing is. But I DO know whom it will happen to:

ERNIE

But, as I have said before, that is all I can say.

SINCERLY,

YOUR LETTER WRITING FRIEND."

I am most tickled with her proper use of 'whom' obviously. ERNIE is this little stuffed Ernie that was much beloved by Hudson when he was 2, but the poor guy has now become the much abused subject of many a shenanigan at our house. He gets blamed for the most unlikely things, and then his punishment is always exponentially more severe than it ought to be.

In closing, I got mistaken for Hudson's grandmother at the playground at school this week. Granted, it was a 5 year old, so it didn't sting VERY much. And as we walked away, Hudson, to clarify asked, "Wait, you AREN'T actually a grandmother, are you?" which made me laugh and reveal my wrinkles in all their glory.

Do you hear what we hear? (our 2015 in audio books)

Our school is an hour away from our house. This sounds crazy, I realize. However, they only go two days a week. The husband takes them, because it is in the general vicinity of his place of employ, and I pick them up. Before we started all of this driving, I had never been very keen on audio books. We had listened to our memory work, and some Story of the World (our history curriculum), but in general, I struggle with auditory input. However, I have come around. The husband buys digital copies (he has an audible account, because he is a long-time audio book listener), but I check out the cd's from the library--cheaper, but occasionally frustrating if the cd is scratched.

 The husband tackles the adventure sagas on their way to school. They have listened to:

1. The Hobbit
2. My Side of the Mountain (and the sequel, I think?)
3. The Sword in the Stone
4. The Wingfeather Saga
5. The Ranger's Apprentice (I think they are on book 8)

And here is what we've heard on our drive home so far:

6. Ginger Pye
7. Five Little Peppers and How They Grew
8. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
9. Trumpet of the Swan
10. Half Magic
11. The Indian in the Cupboard (plus 2 sequels)
12. Gregor the Overlander

The absolute favorite has been the Wingfeather Saga. The least favorite was Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, because the reader's voice was pretty cloying and annoying. A good British voice is the best for audio books, we generally agree (and male over female, though the author of The Indian in the Cupboard, Lynne Reid Banks, is terrific. Probably ONLY because she is British), although we didn't mind when Andrew Peterson took over the reading in book 3 of Wingfeather. And there is nothing more endearing and charming than E.B. White's voice on Trumpet of the Swan.

I am still keeping lists of all the books we read, and I have real hopes to do something useful with them at some point. Which I have been saying since 2009. How about a few random pictures to wrap up?

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices!

We still haven't finished our Jesse Tree readings, but we did manage to visit all grandparents and cousins in various cities in Texas! We were back here for Christmas morning. The kids all got a Rubik's cube and a yo-yo in their stockings, plus gum, gummies, chocolate coins, and tic-tacs. Hudson and Helena have zero self control when it comes to gum, and I think they have already chewed three entire packs each. I really stuck to "something you want, something you need, something to wear, something to read" to guide our present-giving this year. Everyone got new socks. Harper's "want" was a Kindle, Hudson's was a very fast remote control car, and Helena got three little stuffed Audubon birds (a robin, a hummingbird, and a little chick). For books, Harper got a book detailing how to knit charming woodland creatures, Helena got a Shirley Hughes anthology (it is terrific), and Hudson got this incredible book titled Things Come Apart--the author/photographer took apart common things (a computer, a Swiss army knife, a chain saw..) then took these detailed pictures of the component parts, artfully arranged. It is terrific.

I leave you with a deluge of pictures:

 

Calvin, Hobbes, etc.

About a year and a half ago, the kids discovered a Calvin and Hobbes anthology of mine in the vast bookshelves at my parents' house. They quickly became ENAMORED of Calvin. We now have battered library copies and Half-Price books copies all over our house. They have read them all numerous times. I knew it wasn't really FOR kids, but decided to let it be a jumping off point. I have had to give them definitions of words like imbecile, lobotomy, wager, skin grafts, Ouji board, and hara-kiri (!). We have also had to have several discussions about how Calvin's Behavior is Never To Be Emulated. I think they get it, and it pleases me no end when they finally understand the subtle irony. Humor is a tricky business.

In other news, the transmission went out on our van and we had to get a new one. 95,000 plus miles of loyalty and then kerPLUNK. The new van has leather seats and the fancy doors that open by themselves. It makes me nervous. Also, the side windows open, (they didn't in the old van) and the kids find this SPECTACULAR. They are forced to find their own entertainment because, yet again, we opted out of the television in the car business. Here is a picture of the Old Faithful, just before she went away to the car dealership where old minivans go to die? Get a new transmission and live for another 200,000 miles? I hope it is the latter.

In 1997 I was teaching in Hungary, and my friend Melissa, who was teaching in Poland, called me and said she had some friends working in Israel and we should go visit them. So we did, and it was glorious. We did all sorts of magnificent things, but the most memorable was riding bikes around the Sea of Galilee. I don't remember the exact mileage, but it was far enough that I had trouble sitting down normally for a couple of days after. Anyway, I was reminded of it on Saturday. We took a family bike ride. What we intended to be a leisurely hour or so turned into a two and a half hour, FIFTEEN MILE adventure. Everyone held it together fairly well, though Helena cried through the last mile because she was flat exhausted. It was a beautiful day though, and we were never exactly LOST, just a little off target.

My friends Merry and Jane had their annual Christmas cookie party on Sunday night, which means I have been eating nothing but cookies for the past 48 hours.

Tomorrow Helena is going to be Queen Tiye for her history presentation. She was the Nubian wife of Amenhotep III, and grandmother of King Tut (but of course you knew that). We borrowed a Cleopatra costume (close enough) and she LOVES it.

Happy campers.

The First Annual Halloween Camping Adventure almost didn't happen. We planned to leave Friday afternoon, but when I called Pedernales Falls, the park ranger advised against it because, and I quote, "the incoming roads are currently covered in 6 inches of water and the rain is still coming down IN TORRENTS." Doesn't that sound like inviting conditions for tent-sleeping? Instead, we stayed one more night in our own dry beds, woke up at 4 am Saturday morning, drove through the torrential rain as it moved east, and arrived at our campsite just as the sun was coming out. The Pedernales Falls were roaring in spectacular fashion (thanks to the flash flooding), and we rode bikes, hiked, and saw SIX new birds. (Indigo bunting, black-crested titmouse, orange-crowned warbler, ladder-backed woodpecker, Bewick's wren, and a blue grosbeak!!!) The husband and Harper slept in hammocks, and I was snuggled between Hudson and Helena in the tent. One of my favorite moments was waking up in the middle of the night to find Helena's little hand resting on one of my shoulders, and Hudson's head resting on the other. Sweetness.

 

The husband, per the camping usual, did 97% of the work. Bringing 5 bikes was labor-intensive, but really worth it. I realized the term "happy camper" isn't just a general happiness to be camping, but (for me) a deliberate choice to BE happy in the midst of all the muddy, clammy, inconvenience. I really do understand why people bring RVs. But there is also something about making food on a tiny camp stove, sleeping on the ground, and that moment when I realized at 5 am that none of the flashlights in the tent work very well, it is pitch black, and one of the kids needs to go to the bathroom down the winding road, while it is drizzling, and all of the raincoats and dry shoes are in the locked van. It's this momentary extreme annoyance, but then the sun comes up and the birds really are singing, and the good seems more acutely good than it otherwise would. That is happy camping.

We (mostly the husband) packed up early Sunday morning and we drove an hour to hike Enchanted Rock. The smooth front face was a steep but fairly easy hike, then we headed down the boulder-strewn back, and things were a little precarious. The kids did great, even though Harper sustained several injuries necessitating the first aid kit, AND the husband had to fashion an emergency rope harness he had learned how to make on youtube when we got to a couple of granite drop offs too steep for the kids to climb down. I am proud to report that I did manage to get down without needing the emergency rope harness. However, it is 12:32 pm Monday, and I just took my FIFTH Advil of the day. The pain is ceaseless and it is everywhere.









That was Harper getting in the harness after the third bleeding injury, when she was straining to hold herself together. She is enormously tenacious as a general rule, but the granite was sharp and unyielding, and we were far from being finished. But this is what was behind me when I took this picture and I think it gave her courage. Isn't Texas grand??