Nuggets

It has become increasingly clear in the last few days that Wren considers "chicken" the food to be a completely different entity than "chicken" the beloved playmate and pet, that follows her around the yard and perches on her finger...


It is not clear what exactly we should do about this. Of course we had that talk, a long time ago, and I'm guessing it was so horrific that she just totally forgot. I don't want to have the talk again, next to the box under the heatlamp, full of soft chick bedding and cheeps.

She -really- liked the chicken parm I made last night...

I am not ready to raise vegetarians. I like tofu as much as the next person who would almost always rather be eating at the Salt Lick than eating whatever it is they're currently eating.

We don't eat that much meat, maybe 3 meals a week, but chicken is by far the -least- adorable animal we consume. If she thinks chicks are personable adorable not-at-all-delicious fluff balls, then we have to be sure she never ever holds a piglet. Or meets the long-lashed eyes of a heifer.


She has been fishing before, and really loved it. And didn't seem that concerned about the fact that we'd be gutting and eating that fish as soon as Grandad Owl got it home. She was proud at the dinner table that she'd helped. And she actually -has- a fish. Juliette the Fish! I guess she's not that attached?

I think that the case of Lil, Sal, Penny, Louise, Ginger and Honey is going to be quite different.

At the Fair

Weekend

Having a sick sister who wants to go to sleep at 6:00 pm every night means you get to stay up "late" and play checkers with your dad.


And having a little sister who suddenly takes an afternoon nap again means that you get to ride your bike as fast as you want, and come home with holes in the knees of your pants.


And even with bike riding, and Dr. Seuss reading, and 100 piece puzzle constructing, there's still time to practice your scales.

Jane was so out of it this weekend that Wren got a tiny taste of being an only child. She liked the attention but I'm pretty sure she's ready to have her crazy sister back.


We dragged poor Jane along with us to the Kite Festival and she mostly just laid in my lap and looked at the sky.


Wren had a good time trying to get her star kite in the air, and playing with her friend Naomi.

It was a nice weekend overall, even with Jane feeling so crummy. She's finally starting to feel better, although not quite better enough to go back to school. This means of course that she's in that SUPER ANNOYING stage of having all of her energy and craziness back, with just enough discomfort and crabbiness in there to insure that she's going to make me completely insane.

By the time she's over it and back at school, Ben and I will have it, and I will have missed lots and lots of work. At least I'll have something to do when I get back!

Sick Day

Lots of stuff has been going around the girls' school lately, and we were due to come down with some of it...


When Janey gets sick, everyone knows it. She plays hard and she falls hard- she is sicker than anyone has ever been sick. Her voice sounds like she's been smoking a pack a day for 20 years, she has a hacking seal-bark cough, and her cheeks are bright pink.

She says, pitifully, "Mama could you please put Ben in his chair because I NEEEEEEED you!" and of course she does, and I do, and she's my little Jane monkey baby for the day, clinging to my hip. At least her proximity lets me keep tabs on her fever inching up between dosings of advil.


She says, "Tomorrow I am going to feel MUCH MUCH better, right Mama?"

And I say that she will, because she probably will. And I say a prayer or a billion for mothers who can't go to the 24 HEB pharmacy for more advil, and for mothers whose babies won't feel better tomorrow. Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer, but sometimes it only takes a tiny glimpse of another road to snap you back to gratefulness.

I am so so grateful.

quilt for auction

We are so lucky to be able to send the girls to a -really- good school. A school so good that we can't afford it.


We are pretty sure we're the reason they started offering financial aid. And we might just be the sole beneficiaries of the fall fundraiser golf tournament.

It's an important role to have- reminding rich people that other people are like them in many ways, except for not having lots of money. But it also means that we are late with our tuition more often than anyone else, and cause more headaches for the office staff than other families probably do.

Since we can't contribute to the school financially, when the spring fundraising auction came around, I offered to make a quilt.

And this is it.


A coin quilt, made from scraps from the stash, and backed in vintage sheeting. A time crunch meant I was justified in buying binding instead of making my own (hurrah! I HATE making binding) and so that process went faster than usual. I'm happy with the way it turned out and I hope it raises some "thanks for being cool with our poverty" money for our school.