math science history, unraveling a mystery....

Homeschooling...it's fun, it's busy...you can start to write a blog post or put a load in the washer quick, but then there's a math question...so you have to be present, you have to be patient.

Next week, we were planning to take an overnight trip for Camille's birthday. My baby is turning ten years old! Our house is most often hopping with older kids, grand kids, friends...Miss Cam helps with little Anne, who is here three days a week. She plays with her little nieces when they visit. For her birthday, we thought it would be nice to go away for a night, so we could have some fun, just the three homeschooled kids and me. We spent far too long researching, and finding just the right place...(that's school, right?), then I tried to book it, the excitement was IN THE AIR, and nope, it didn't work. A glitch somewhere. So I called the hotel directly, and the prices on the phone were way more than online. So no, not going to do it. I told Cam maybe we aren't meant to go, but I would try again later.

Because, going overnight to spend some time in the hot tub, the pool, have breakfast....watch hours of HDTV...it's fun.

I also suggested we save the money and buy her a bike instead...she got flustered, she hates wasting money, it makes her feel bad, so I just shut up about it and said that we'll have fun going away.

Anyway. She's doing division problems in front of the fake fireplace. The skies have cleared up, I opted out of my walk this morning because it was so chilly and pouring rain. I know I won't melt, but getting soaked to the skin...just no.

We are going to the library in a bit, for more stacks of books, and to let Anne play a bit.

And let me go off on a tangent, please. Let's go back in time, ten years. Ten years ago, I started this blog. I was still pregnant for Camille, didn't know she was a girl until she was born. But anyway. Ten years ago...let's see what life looked like...
Emily was 22
Abigail was 20
Benjamin 18
Mirielle 17
Joseph 16
Aaron 14
Mali 13
Samuel 12
Margaret 10
Kathryn 9
Evelyn 8
Suzanne 6
Sonja 5
(baby Robert in between Sonja and Jon)
Jonathan 3
Char 18 months

I was knee deep in it, ha. When Cam was born, 8 kids ten and under. Oh my dear goodness.

Anyway.

I changed my mind about this autumn, it's not the most beautiful ever. The leaves seemed to be blowing off the trees before they get a chance to become breathtaking. There are so many bare naked trees already. There is something chilling about bare trees, something foreboding, like you know what's coming, you can't stop it, it's stronger than you. Winter humbles me. We're fortunate enough to have gloves and boots, and a warm place to live, but without all that, it would win.

The warm walking mornings are taken for granted, then you realize that being cold on a morning walk isn't just a joke, it's really happening again. You can bundle up, but having an ice cube nose and a hat on your head isn't the same as walking with the cool breeze blowing your hair. Your fingers huddle under your jacket sleeves, until you know gloves have to be dug out of the closet.

Maybe I'm getting old, getting tired of being cold, maybe I am understanding my mother-in-law more, she winters in Florida but is staying in the stark cold north until January this year. It hasn't even started and I find it dismal. Morning walks when the road is icy, nope. When the snowbanks make it nearly impossible for a non-nimble old lady like me to hop out of the way of a speeding snowplow. It did happen once, I almost got snowplowed. I kid you not. It was the hands-down most terrifying experience of my life. It was when we still had our sheepdog, Rosie-The-Bad-Dog. She was barking like crazy at our neighbors down the road, barking and circling the neighbor's tractor/plow, as they tried to clear their driveway. I had to go down the road and lunge for that dogs collar, drag her unhappy butt back down towards our house, when the snowplow came barreling down the road. The snowbanks were huge, but I leaped right into it, scrambled out of the road for dear life. I probably spent the first few minutes warning time, when I first realized that the plow was indeed coming, deciding what the heck to do, then it was almost upon me, and dang it, I dove right into that snow bank. I don't even remember if I let go of Rosie so that she could bark at the plow, I don't remember. I just remember the terror, and then coming into the house and telling everyone I almost got hit, uh huh, you're fine, "almost" doesn't count.

Anyway. The sun is coming out, Cam needs help, and I haven't had breakfast yet.