The Chickadee Feeder

It interests me, that all through our lives–if we seek to think about others more than ourselves–we will give and adapt and adjust in order to sustain and cultivate relationships.

Parenting demands more of this than any other, perhaps.  I suppose it depends upon our personality, as to what amount of “giving in” we need to do in our marriage, our parenting, and with friends.

And of course there’s a fine line between doing what is needed, and doing too much.

And some of it is not “giving in” at all, but just plain pride in what our loved one has accomplished!

In keeping with my tradition of supplying scotch tape to my toddler, bread twist-ties to my preschooler, and countertop space to my semi-adult son, this weekend I changed the decor of my kitchen.  It will be so for a while, anyway.

BEFORE

AFTER

My Older Son has been taking a ceramics class in college this semester.  Given his serious passion with antiquity, he has produced all his pottery in the Anglo-Saxon style.

This too shall pass?

He has signed up for Advanced Ceramics next semester.

MOVING OVER

 

It interests me, that all through our lives–if we seek to think about others more than ourselves–we will give and adapt and adjust in order to sustain and cultivate relationships.

Parenting demands more of this than any other, perhaps.  I suppose it depends upon our personality, as to what amount of “giving in” we need to do in our marriage, our parenting, and with friends.

And of course there’s a fine line between doing what is needed, and doing too much.

And some of it is not “giving in” at all, but just plain pride in what our loved one has accomplished!

In keeping with my tradition of supplying scotch tape to my toddler, bread twist-ties to my preschooler, and countertop space to my semi-adult son, this weekend I changed the decor of my kitchen.  It will be so for a while, anyway.

BEFORE

AFTER

My Older Son has been taking a ceramics class in college this semester.  Given his serious passion with antiquity, he has produced all his pottery in the Anglo-Saxon style.

This too shall pass?

He has signed up for Advanced Ceramics next semester.

ELECTRIC PHOTOS

I often wish I could draw some of the funny pictures I get into my head; today I was thinking about how sometimes it seems the world is filled with the coiled burners you find on electric stoves.  And no matter what you do—even if it’s in kindness, or politeness, or goodwill—you get burned, left and right.  Ouch!  Ouch!  Ooomph!

Can you see a person walking around with lots of little burn marks all over them?

I’ve heard the saying, “She’s prickly all over.”  Wouldn’t THAT make a grand picture?  Maybe I should replace my hurtfulness of the hot burners with the more gentle bites of the prickles, and not take it so much to heart.

Come to think of it, maybe I’M the one with the prickles.  If I myself weren’t so prickly, maybe I wouldn’t feel hurt so many times.

Ace Clipart

To protect myself from hot burners and/or prickles, I suppose I could wear armor or develop a hard shell.  In some ways, that’s the same as wearing prickles.  What a funny picture comes to mind THERE!

I think I had better go read Old Hat’s encouraging reminder again:  to NOT throw up my defenses, to keep a soft heart, and to remember that God always looks upon US with gentleness.

I try to walk every day (ignore my son’s look of disbelief).  If I go up and down the driveway five times, it makes a mile.

The view from the road, looking toward our house.

Of course, the minute I put my big toe out of the door this morning, it began to rain.  But here is what I saw:

Rhubarb.

A moaning beech tree.

Coltsfoot, one of the first flowers of spring.  Its leaves, which come later, are in the shape of a colt’s foot.

Our tin man, who needs a new coat of paint.

This is our gas-station-like “dinger” that rings our doorbell when someone comes up our driveway.

Empty seed pods from an evergreen.

One of my prize junk-sale finds that we put on our driveway.

An empty beech tree seed pod.

The tree has grown up around this birdhouse.  Now usually house wrens nest there.

Deer damage.

The daffodils.

A perfect woodpecker hole lying right along the driveway.

SPRING FIELD TRIP

I try to walk every day (ignore my son’s look of disbelief).  If I go up and down the driveway five times, it makes a mile.

Empty seed pods from an evergreen.

One of my prize junk-sale finds that we put on our driveway.

An empty beech tree seed pod.

The tree has grown up around this birdhouse.  Now usually house wrens nest there.

Deer damage.

The daffodils.

A perfect woodpecker hole lying right along the driveway.

MY VERSION

Here is a homemaker’s version of “downsizing”–moving the leftovers from the large container into a smaller one:

MUCH MORE THAN IT SEEMS

We have a “vernal pool” back behind our house in the woods.  It’s actually a big mud puddle caused by ATVs that roar through our property on what used to be a gas pipeline, spoiling the path for anyone who would like to walk through.

The frogs and toads don’t know it’s a motorized disaster-in-the-making, and they enliven our lives by using it as a place to lay eggs and grow their babies. 

The last few years, we’ve had the privilege of having rather different critters in the pool:  wood frogs.  Instead of the usual “peep-peep” of the spring peepers, we hear a loud “clack-clack”—even in the daytime.  The first year we heard these, we were completely mystified over what sounded like a large gathering of turkeys in the woods.  They are supposed to be common, but I don’t hear them elsewhere. 

They’re extremely shy and it’s almost impossible to catch a glimpse of them.  Before we can even sneak close to the pool, they become silent and invisible.

Today it is cool, so I crept out there, hoping they wouldn’t all be sleeping at the bottom of the pool, waiting for the sun.  But they are.  It’s simply a puddle of mud and leaves, quiet and undisturbed.  Lifeless.

But I know.

We have a “vernal pool” back behind our house in the woods.  It’s actually a big mud puddle caused by ATVs that roar through our property on what used to be a gas pipeline, spoiling the path for anyone who would like to walk through.

The frogs and toads don’t know it’s a motorized disaster-in-the-making, and they enliven our lives by using it as a place to lay eggs and grow their babies.

The last few years, we’ve had the privilege of having rather different critters in the pool:  wood frogs.  Instead of the usual “peep-peep” of the spring peepers, we hear a loud “clack-clack”-even in the daytime.  The first year we heard these, we were completely mystified over what sounded like a large gathering of turkeys in the woods.  They are supposed to be common, but I don’t hear them elsewhere.

They’re extremely shy and it’s almost impossible to catch a glimpse of them.  Before we can even sneak close to the pool, they become silent and invisible.

Today it is cool, so I crept out there, hoping they wouldn’t all be sleeping at the bottom of the pool, waiting for the sun.  But they are.  It’s simply a puddle of mud and leaves, quiet and undisturbed.  Lifeless.

But I know.

HOMESCHOOL PROJECT FAIR

Life has a habit of just flinging a person from one large event to another, doesn’t it?  This past week, my husband and I put on our 15^th Annual Homeschool Project Fair, located in our town.  It’s great fun to meet a lot of new people and to revisit some wonderful people whom we only see once a year. 

We had 80 projects from homeschooled students of all ages, from all over western Pennsylvania (and one from the state of West Virginia).

   

Each child grade 3 and up were judged by two different people…the younger ones were only judged once—simply because the night before, I realized that we didn’t have enough parent judges!! 

Each project had a comment sheet upon which students and parents could write nice comments if they desired.  Unfortunately, some unknown scamps spent a lot of time writing “COOL!!” on a huge amount of them; I desire thoughts that are a bit heftier than that!

Each student also had a scavenger-hunt-type worksheet, requiring them to go around looking at the projects for answers.  Those who answered all the questions correctly got jelly beans.
 

While my husband was finishing up the paperwork, we had entertainment from some of our speech club kids, both older and younger.

And every participant took home a certificate, a ribbon, and a candy bar.

One of the most shocking aspects about doing the fair this year is the fact that the internet is celebrating 20 years of existence.  Only 20 years ago.  I think of how I organized the fair the first few years, doing everything through the mail, the telephone, and by hand.  How far we have come in just a few short years!  Now I have spreadsheets and mail-merge and labels and a website; I don’t even have to personally sign the certificates anymore (even though it looks like I did).  Yay for progress!