3 Ring Binder

Last weekend the coop, this weekend, the run. Too bad they're not actually connected. We were lucky enough to get a big dog kennel for the price of unscrewing and picking it up at my friend's house - thanks Sue! The large kennel will enable us to keep the chickens safe, but move them all about the yard in sort of a free-but-safe-range set-up (yes, just like my parenting). On Saturday we rebuilt the kennel in our backyard. If you've ever worked with over 40 linear feet of 5 1/2 foot high chain link fence - you know how much fun that was. Then we had to figure out how to actually move the chick-chickens from the coop into the run, which again, is not attached to the coop, so they could enjoy their days outside. Today, that process went something like this: "Let's open the door and see if they come out." "Approach them slowly so they don't spook." "I've got this one! You get that one!" "Hey. Where'd they go?" "All

1. Minimalist fun with Stringfever. 2. Anne-Sophie Mutter playing Vivaldi's The Four Seasons (short compilation trailer). 3. Having a ten year-old daughter who will join a local string orchestra in the fall.

Middle Age, Middle Place, Middle-earth: Which mean should I choose? The one where “Super White Teeth!” Slowly replaced the obsession for shoes? Or the one where being both parent and child Occupy the same bittersweet hour? Or where fantastic beings unite To battle evil – the seduction of Power. Some of these things I cannot choose, But more important are the things I can. And within the limitations of my one life, I choose to be a rational man. Understanding the difference between the chosen And the facts of the metaphysically given, I'm slowly working for my life in the extreme; There is no average by which I am driven.

“By a selective re-creation, art isolates and integrates those aspects of reality which represent man’s fundamental view of himself and of existence. Out of the countless number of concretes—of single, disorganized and (seemingly) contradictory attributes, actions and entities—an artist isolates the things which he regards as metaphysically essential and integrates them into a single new concrete that represents an embodied abstraction.” Ayn Rand “The Psycho-Epistemology of Art,” The Romantic Manifesto , 19. 1. Delight If food can be art, then this piece of art speaks to my very soul (in that it attracts me like no other cake has before). Its obviously stable, but seemingly precarious fanciful form, vibrant, celebratory colors, and crisp animal print icing compels me to look at it over and over again, and smile each time. (via Cake Wrecks – a hilarious blog – and created by Sharon of Sharon’s Cake Art ) Hello…Stephen…are you reading this? October isn’t too far away. 2. Justice “…And

In a campaign to urge our homeschool chorus to pick "Schoolhouse Rock" as our theme for next year, I'd like to showcase a variety of song stylings put forth by those little educational videos of the 70s (and I have to scoop Amy ). Talk about wistful.

This weekend was all about remembering those who have bravely served our country, and getting the chickens out of the garage and into their coop. Sites from our tiny local parade: My favorite part of the High School band (on the right in both pictures): Sure, I bet she has both pearl earrings on. I’m not sure you can see it, so I wanted to point out the cheetah detailing on the sunglasses. Also momentous this weekend was the moving of the transitional chicks into their permanent home: the Schechter Poultry Corp. coop (sign still in design phase). Stephen had been working very hard to get the girls into the coop. He buried hardcloth underneath the entire shed’s dirt floor (good tip from Beth at A is A Academy ) and ran it up the sides for at least six inches. He constructed sturdy perches, nesting boxes, and droppings boards according to the instructions in Building Chicken Coops by Gail Damerow. He even made a little chicken door/ramp for them to walk into and out of the coop. The re

1. Someone from the Lutheran Medical Center came to my site on a quest for “Hugh Jackman Australia shirtless”; 2. This story of US soldier brings new meaning to military gear (via Illustrated Ideas ); 3. As her kids try to make sense of the world around them, Rational Jenn makes the best of it.

Perhaps she had literally only one pearl earring. Maybe the other was removed in lightning-fast strike by a transitional Easter-egger chick looking for some shiny bauble. Hey – it could happen. In fact, that is exactly how we got our own girl with a pearl earring today, and let me tell you – she was none too happy about it either! Trying to find a small pearl earring in a pile of pine shavings is just a wee bit worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. At least the haystack is clean. Result of the crime. She doesn't look guilty (Alpha(ba),far right)

1. Trying to make an “ Alfalfa ” peak with your hair and shampoo. You need just the right thickness of lather not to mention the right amount of hair. It’s not as easy as you think. 2. Bike riding with no hands. I found I could negotiate gentle curves without using the handle bars on the bike trail this morning and did so for 3/4 of a mile. Wheee! 3. Playing Keystone Cops with a double kayak above your head. An actual child would likely use a much less expensive, heavy, and awkward object in the comic balancing act.

From Pedagogically Correct , the occasional newsletter from VanDamme Academy , Lisa VanDamme reports on a great and simple game she invented called, "Tell Me Everything You Know". While Ms. VanDamme made up the game for her classroom setting, I bet it could be used with great success in a homeschool setting by giving points for each observation and adding the points together each day. The motivation is to get more points today than yesterday. Tell Me Everything You Know I have invented a new educational game. I call it "Tell Me Everything You Know." Here is how the game works in my grammar class: I write a sentence on the board, set a time limit, and then have the students write down every grammatical fact they can name about the sentence. When the time is up, I go around the room, asking each student to volunteer one of his observations. If someone else in the class has written the same thing, both must cross it off their lists. If no one else has made the same ob

This week's Objectivist Round Up is hosted over at Amy Mossoff's blog The Little Things . So giddy up and git on over there to check out a sample of writing gathered from various people who are all "animated by Objectivism," the philosophy of Ayn Rand, writer of Atlas Shrugged . My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute. “About the Author,” Atlas Shrugged , Appendix. And don't forget, the best information about Objectivism is presented by Ayn Rand herself. And the best collection of her writing can be found at the Ayn Rand Bookstore , so you should mosey on over there, too. I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time dropping my deeply held cowboy connection to the term "round up". Oh, all right! I don't want to drop it.

Damn! That's the disappointment you utter upon opening your credit card bill and realizing that you lost the how-late-can-I-mail-this-in-and-still-be-in-time? game you played. (C'mon. You've said it before.) Ugh! That's the less than silent groan you make when you immediately write out the next check for your purchases bought on credit plus the late fee and the interest charged by the company in accordance with your agreement. You don't want to pay more than you have to or risk ruining your credit. Splat! That's the deafening sound of coercive government squashing those who have good credit in order to help those who have poor credit, which is shortly followed by the same sickening sound a company makes when the government rides in and stomps on its legal ability to make money. And it's the onomatopoeic sound in the cartoon bubble over your flattened body when the Blue Hippo of general welfare sits on you. As reported by The New York Times in a topsy-tur

At different points over the years I have associated certain songs with my loved ones. In addition to the music that I associate with my husband, the seriously lofty and celebratory wedding march (despite my humble introduction to it) and the wistful first dance music (wistful, because we regret not having used it , realizing only later how perfect it was), I have what I would I call theme songs for each one of my children. For my son, who has always been more sensitive than he likes to let on, it’s I’ll Stand by You by the Pretenders. For my teenage daughter whose ebullience from a very early age was practically infectious, Wonder by Natalie Merchant makes me think of her spinning and dancing. For my youngest child, it’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring by Bach which played by her crib every night when I checked on her sleeping. It was like her personal soundtrack. Sadly we didn’t have the choral version, but like her, the melody is so beautiful, sometimes it hurts. While there are

Here are my quick reviews of notable movies I've seen lately. I wanted to save some for more detailed reviews, but I kept pushing it off to the point where I can barely remember them - so this is my purging of that stack. I hope it's more entertaining than I've just made it sound. Each title is linked to a trailer for the movie. Slumdog Millionaire I know that everyone who is interested in seeing this movie has already done so, but I wanted to add my two cents here: I loved it. I thought it was an incredible story about the power a human being has over the course of his own life. After the movie Stephen and I discussed the intent of the writer and producer in paying lip service to destiny in the tag line “it is written”, but I walked away with the overwhelming feeling that the film, regardless of what was said, actually showed that you are in control of your life and it is only through your efforts that you will gain your greatest values. It is a love story with an unlikel

We’ve been working on our chicken coop this weekend (and by “we” I mean my husband and youngest daughter have been doing the physical work and I’ve been thinking about and organizing what else needs to be done). Right now I’m concentrating on the flooring, spatial arrangement, and safety features for the ladies. But mostly I’m preoccupied by the all important chicken sign that will hang above the coop doors. In s l o w l y reading The Forgotten Man by Amity Shlaes, I think I found the perfect words to grace our coop: The Schechter Poultry Corp. Perhaps few will understand the reference to A.L.A. Schechter Poultry Corporation v. United States , the Supreme Court battle between four brothers in Brooklyn and the massive regulatory NRA (National Recovery Administration), one of the first alphabet soup bureaucracies of the New Deal established under the NIRA (National Industrial Recovery Act) of 1933. It might, however, prompt some questions from curious visitors. The Schechter case is f

Monday, on the way to driving my fifteen year-old daughter to dance class, I had the radio tuned to NPR. My daughter hates it when I listen to NPR and usually makes several consecutive attempts to force me to listen to her more upbeat thumping pop jams. But during that drive she just sat passively in the passenger’s seat in what I determined to be a moment of typical teenage sullenness. Then All Things Considered came on with a two minute report about the increase in the price of the first class stamp to 44 cents. I thought the little fluff report on the frustration of trying to get make-up postage was mildly humorous until I heard this: “Many people who bypass stamps altogether – pay their bills online and correspond by e-mail – know that they are in part to blame for today’s price increase...” “What?” scoffed my daughter incredulously before I could even manage a raised eyebrow let alone a full eye roll. “How does that work?” At that point, I’m sure I acknowledged her assessment

Enjoy this little Grammar Rock reminder.

If you have little kids in government school, or progressive private schools, perhaps you'll want to watch this 20 minute long video, Story of Stuff , on YouTube so you can prepare yourself for the onslaught of self-hatred and victimization your kids will come home feeling after they watch as part of their “education”. The New York Times reports "Story of Stuff" is the next big thing in environmentalist propaganda in the classroom. Of course, they don't report it that way; the Times actually calls it "cheerful" as its simple drawings and friendly presenter are accessible to even the very young. I don't think that the shaking, desolate line-drawn individuals standing on their little piece of destroyed earth – who have no alternative but to work in nasty factories and poison their own babies through their toxic breast milk because you had to have an iPod – is "cheerful" even if the presenter refers to it in scare quotes as the "beauty” of

Friday: I constructed transitional housing for the transitional chicks and moved them into the garage. It’s amazing how powerful an incentive the smell of chicken poop in the house can be. Saturday: I contributed in small part to the great big sound of our homeschool family chorus concert. There really is nothing like the sound of the little kids singing, except the feeling of getting to sing with them ( and the satisfaction of remembering all those words when it really counts ). Sunday: I shared hours of laughter and good food with my mother and mother-in-law (and father and father-in-law) from the morning into the early afternoon and played tennis with my daughters on a gorgeous, warm, and breezy late Sunday afternoon. Life is good.

In looking for the source of George Washington's definition of government as a force, "Government is not reason. It is not eloquence. It is a force, like fire: a dangerous servant and a terrible master. Never for a moment should it be left to irresponsible action." I came across another great quotation attributed to him. "[Government] has no more right to put their hands into my pockets, without my consent, than I have to put my hands into yours … " Hmmm. Where have I heard something like that before? Unfortunately, I was unable to find the source documents to either one - just yet.

From President Obama’s website , here is the wrap-up of his remarks on tax fairness for the middle class: It's a simple proposition. That the wealth we earn comes from the work that we do. It's a proposition that is lived, day in and day out, in the homes of millions of working Americans. The steady pursuit of simple dreams. The American economy is the tally of all of those dreams. Now - at a time of rising costs and rising uncertainty - it's time for polices from Washington that put a little wind at the backs of the American people. Now is the time for us to come together as a nation behind a new compact for the 21st century - one that gives the American people a lift, so they can lift up this country anew. Let’s look closer at this folksy bit of wisdom: Simple Dreams : When my dream to own a house becomes a mandate from the government to move around the wealth you earned to make sure I can stay in that house, one that I could never have afforded in the first place witho

The Brain Drain So, if I understand President Obama’s latest efforts at creative garnishment to feed the governments coffers correctly, he plans to hire over 800 new IRS analysts “to detect and pursue” money he feels should go to the American government instead of to the American companies that earned the money. "Nobody likes paying taxes, particularly in times of economic stress," Obama said. "But most Americans meet their responsibilities because they understand that it's an obligation of citizenship, necessary to pay the costs of our common defense and our mutual well-being." First, I find it appalling that Obama would use “common defense,” one of the legitimate powers of the federal government, in conjunction with the phrase “mutual well-being,” which seems to be community-organizer-speak for forced redistribution of wealth. It appears to be a transparent excuse to extort tax dollars to direct toward his unprecedentedly large welfare state programs. Furthe

Dispelling chicken myths, one picture at a time.

I really do. I find his dry humor quite appealing. For a comedian who tackles the absurdities of politics, on both sides of the aisle , with wit and insight, Stewart has earned my respect as well as my laughter . I don’t always agree with him, but I like his style. Most of the time. Recently, Stewart accused President Truman of being a war criminal for dropping the bomb in Hiroshima and Nagasaki; however, while he did not elaborate on why, he later admitted he was wrong. Unlike the legion of leftists who insist that radio personality Rush Limbaugh is a de facto leader of conservatism, I can vehemently disagree with the dreadful ideology held (at least partially) by Stewart that allowed him to initially make that mistake and still acknowledge and appreciate his appeal and cultural influence as an entertainer . In other words, I can let the dirty bathwater drain while keeping my clean baby warm and dry. My support of Stewart should in no way imply that I don’t think that ideas, even

If Cass Sunstein has his way, cats will sue. From an oft forwarded email (with apologies to the author whose name and original words, no doubt, have long been stripped away): Excerpts from a dog’s diary 8:00 AM- Dog food! My favorite thing! 9:30 AM - A car ride! My favorite thing! 9:40 AM - A walk in the park! My favorite thing! 10:30 AM - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing! 12:00 PM - Lunch! My favorite thing! 1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing! 3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing! 5:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing! 7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing! 8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing! 11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing! Excerpts from a cat's diary Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfe

The Wind Blew Shrill And Smart by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) THE wind blew shrill and smart, And the wind awoke my heart Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea, To hear the cordage moan And the straining timbers groan, And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee. O sailor of the fleet, It is time to stir the feet! It's time to man the dingy and to row! It's lay your hand in mine And it's empty down the wine, And it's drain a health to death before we go! To death, my lads, we sail; And it's death that blows the gale And death that holds the tiller as we ride. For he's the king of all In the tempest and the squall, And the ruler of the Ocean wild and wide! I'm not big on the whole death thing, but I love the sailing imagery. What else would you expect from a Gorton's Fisherman wannabee?