Breakfast

If you ever stop in for breakfast, I would encourage you to politely decline Seth's offer to make you a little something to eat.  As pictured below, he considers bologna on a toasted blueberry eggo a well rounded meal.  I'm going to be kind and say his taste buds are still maturing.  

 

When Someone Gives Us Sidewalk Chalk...

Open Season for Chemical Warfare

 I planted 5 rows of potatoes.  I'm happy to report that they're all coming up. 

But as the potatoes pop up, so do these undesirable, disgusting, icky things.  I loathe potato bugs.  They are so...so...so REVOLTING!

 

So I pulled out my trusty weapon of mass destruction.  With glee I mixed a new batch of poison and loaded it into my empty Windex bottle.  Yes...765 mL of certain DEATH for potato bugs. 

 

I trotted off to my garden and carefully peered at that first plant.  Ewwww, yucky orange bugs!  I set my nozzle to STREAM and squirted the life out of that pest.  I may have hollered, "DIE!  Yes, DIE!!!"  And so ever so meticulously I paraded up and down my potato rows, rescuing my potatoes by the squirt of my finger.  DIE DIE DIE!!!  Task complete, I hung my weapon by my side and proceeded to pick weeds.  But I was ready.  For every orange bug I met that was still on it's feet after my onslaught got their very own point blank volley of poison.  Take THAT! shquirt shquirt  No one stays alive.

 

With one last look over my shoulder I growled, "I'll be back."

We BURN It!

Sometimes my kids get really frustrated with their school work.  A test they've been nervous about comes back sporting a less then ideal grade, despite the fact that they've tried their hardest.  This is incredibly discouraging and they have a tendency to get down on themselves about it.

This happened to my son with his French test.  I don't think French is super important.  I think he should do his best, but I'm not horribly alarmed if he's not getting straight A's.  It's not a core subject (and...he's an Albertan :-0 )  Besides, he started French a full year and a half later than the rest of his class.  There's NO WAY he's going to see high marks at this point.  His class is speaking and writing full sentences.  he's working on 'Bonjour.'  Nevertheless, he expects top marks from himself anyways.

Shame covering his features, he showed me his French test.  I looked at it.  I tried to encourage him by appealing to his sense of reason.  Then, noticing I was getting nowhere, I walked to the drawer, grabbed a lighter and instructed him to follow me.  French test in hand, we headed to the fire pit.  I gave him his test and I gave him the lighter. 

"Burn it," I told him.

A look of sheer joy, relief and surprise came across his face. 

"OK!"  And so he burned it.  The problem was solved.  His mom was happy with him.  The evidence was gone and forgotten.  And a boy returned to the house with a bounce in his step once again.

**NOTE**
This is NOT, I repeat, NOT a good way to deal with all your problems.  The Edmonton Fire Department does not want to start putting out fires because this blog told you to become an arsonist.

But Mom...we NEED a Rocket Launcher!

I have been wondering where the middle piece of my vacuum cleaner had gone.  And what do you know...this morning Paul wandered into the kitchen toting the missing vacuum cleaner on his shoulder.  You see, it has a neat little mechanism where one side contracts into the other side making it smaller.  It also makes a nice clicking sound when it is contracted or elongated.  When I asked for it back he vehemently protested, "But Mom...we NEED a Rocker Launcher!"

 

 



A Beauty of a Day!

It was SUCH a beautiful day!  We were all outside the better part of the day.  Check it out.

 

Paul is infatuated with Dan's motorcycle.

 

Eric helped me for most of the day cleaning out the pool and starting the long process of adding and treating the water.

Eric is also impressed with Dan's bike (I think it must be a guy thing).

 Dan and Courtney hauling some dirt for my planters with the tractor.

 

Seth hanging out on his own tractor.

 Courtney on her scooter--with her grandpa boots on of course.

 Paul's shooting hoops (he's QUITE good!).  Dan joined him a little later.

 Not being able to resist, Dan took his motorcycle for a little ride.

Farm Boys and Libraries

Every now and then I like to take my 5 year old farm boy away from his chickens and try to refine his rougher edges by taking him to the public library and exposing him to some good literature. 

 

But I've learned that you can't take the farm out of the boy or even hide it.  This is the book he found in the library and chose to take home.

 

  So much for cultivating a love for the classics.