The Most Wonderful Season of All...

It's coming. I can feel it in the air and in my bones. I'm about to become....a very bad homeschool mom. My (second) seed order arrived this weekend. A trailer load of garden mulch is on the horizon. These sunny days in January are just toying with me, but my bulbs have pushed their green tips to the surface. And I have gardening on my mind. All. Day. Long.

"I have this brilliant idea to move my cucumbers back to the beds along the fence," I confided to my husband earlier today. His eyes glazed over, and he looked at me like I had spoken in French. But I don't know French, so it occurred to me that maybe he really didn't care where I planted the cucumbers. The fence is really a great spot for them though, and in my small worldview, a very exciting breakthrough. Thank you for listening. I needed somebody to be fake excited with me.

I turned the compost bin yesterday and saw lots of worms. I love my worms. Please don't tell the cool kids.

A neighbor is bringing aged horse manure. My life keeps getting better!

Now that we have a massive garden space, fence, and decent garden soil, I am giddy to get my fingernails dirty. Which brings me back to my first point. I'm becoming a very bad example of a teacher for my homeschooler. It's the reason I didn't get teacher of the year last year. Which is kind of crap because I was the only teacher on the ballot. Politics. Those homeschool kids are tough.

I need rain, lots of cold, sleety rain. It's the only cure to keep me focused.

Although, seed starting happens indoors, so...

I can't help myself!

P.S. What are you planting?

Comments

Little Bit Dicey

This might be a little controversial. I try to steer clear of such topics in this space, but it needs to be said. Take it as you will, but know that it comes from a place of love, concern, and respect. Here it is: there is a right way to cut an onion. Now, I'm not saying this to try and get anyone's dander up. I'm just saying it's a subject that needs to be addressed in kitchens across America. There may be more than one right way to skin a cat (I can't say I've tested that), but the same does not hold true for onions. Please, you can teach an old dog new tricks - learn how to properly cut an onion. It will save you time, frustration, onion tears, and possibly a finger. Now, since I'm still sitting here on blogspot like it's 2003, I'm not going to post any how-to videos, but I'll do the next best thing. I'll paste a link right here . Check it out. Practice it. Make it a habit. T...

Advanced Placement

Not to brag or anything, but I think we are raising some very advanced children. At two-years-of-age, our girls have already worked out the art of manipulation and deflection. It's the antithesis of endearing. They went missing the other day - the girls did. That's never a good situation. They were in the house, and I knew they were in the house, but I couldn't see or hear them. Silence is the loudest alarm system. Fischer took action and found them both in my bathroom. "MOM!" I met them in the hall. Carter was covered in clumps and blobs of hand cream. "Emi did it," was her unsolicited response. "No," I told her. "I think you did it." That night I got ready for bed and pulled out my one "self-care" splurge - my face cream . It was in my drawer where I always keep it. The lid was screwed on. And it was empty, wiped clean. "EmmmeerrrrrSON!" Guilty. They were both ...

How to Tame a Toddler (and other myths in parenting)

I used to think I had started to hone my parenting skills. Fischer was a much more mellow toddler than Sawyer, and I credited Ross and myself having the experience of one child under our belts. It turns out, I was wrong. Fischer was just a more mellow toddler . That, or we have substantially regressed in our skills since having the twins. It could be that. They are terrorists. Nobody and nothing is off limits. Our walls are covered in crayon and pencil. Our new kitchen table has been branded with marker. There is crayon on the windows. My cupboards and drawers are empty. My counter tops are full. They have figured out how to climb up on the table, and how to climb onto the windowsill and over the back of the couch, how to climb out of their cribs, and how to climb out of their clothes! Our boys did not do these things. I wasn't prepared. I thought we had a plan...

Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

Search This Blog