I Made a Kite

Did you know you can make a kite out of just a paper grocery bag, some tape, and some twine?

I made one today because I'm going to have my cub scout den make them tonight, so I wanted to make sure I could, you know . . . make it myself. So I don't look like an idiot.

The thing flies, too, I've discovered. Yesterday would have been a great day to fly it because we had Wizard-of-Oz type winds going on that knocked out the power for over two hours, but even with just a slight breeze I got it up in the air. I'll post a picture as soon as I take one and get it on the computer.

So put away your money and dig out the scissors, folks! There's a potential kite hiding away right there in your pantry.

I Ordered Some Stuff This Morning

Okay, let me back up a few days.

Last weekend, while outside with the kids, I ventured into the usually-impenetrable-in-the-summer wooded area at the edge of our property to create some "trails." I put trails in quotes because it really isn't a huge area, so they're more like pathways. But I've been lining them with some of the larger fallen branches that were piled next to the shed and tossed along the edge of the woods, and after some fern-removal and a little raking, darned if they don't look like trails.

So since that's been going so nicely, I've been getting ambitions. You know, getting images in my head that resemble something you'd find in a magazine - rustic wooded pathways surrounded by all kinds of colorful foliage, flowers, and shrubs that I will have painstakingly (but lovingly) planted in artistically correct locations. Maybe even a little concrete bench or some old iron chairs tucked alongside the trail for those who wish to linger (and who don't mind being mosquito bait). Oh, and a string of quaint white lights draped through the trees along the pathway . . .

My kids just think it's really cool to have a place for adventures. In fact, my oldest, who is eight years old, told me this morning that it would be neat to plant some stuff all back there in the woods and then put wooden pathways up above in the trees. I told him I wasn't sure we could do that in a way that was remotely safe.

His response: "The Ewoks did it."

So anyway, I just happened to get an email yesterday from one of the mail-order plant/seed places, and there, on the front page of their buy one, get one free sale, is something called a honeyberry bush. Ever heard of it? Me neither. But wow, it looks so cool - bright-blue, oblong, edible berries on shrubs that grow from 4-8 feet tall. And, low and behold, it loves the shade! But wait, it gets better - they're originally from Siberia. First thing through my head: Upstate New York in winter will feel just like home for the thing!

Here's a picture (courtesy of ParkSeed.com):


Isn't that gorgeous?

So I ordered a couple. Well, okay . . . I ordered four. But in my defense, you need at least two of the one variety to get any berries.

I also threw in a couple of butterfly bushes, some raspberries, a couple of hydrangeas, and something else that for the life of me I can't remember right now.

I know, I know, that's a lot of stuff. But it's spring, and I'm excited to make things grow!

All I have to do over the next few (rainy) days is dig some holes, prepare some soil, clear out a wild blackberry patch, and till a strip of earth for the raspberries, all while the two-year-old is "helping" me (and for those who have had a toddler, the quotes around helping need no explanation).

Oh right, and there are the plants I'm getting this weekend from my kids' school - 48 impatiens and some herbs and vegetables for the garden. Plus a few petunias for my hanging baskets.

Oh.

I think I'll just go ahead and take some Advil right now.

I'm Bilingual!

This only occurred to me the other day, to be honest. I'm sure when it happened, or how, but I'm guessing it had something to do with the birth of my first child.

See, this whole time, I had myself convinced that 90% of the time, my children were just ignoring me. "Could you hang up your jacket please? Your jacket. It's on the floor here. Why are you walking into the . . . hey! Your jacket! PICK UP YOUR JACKET!!!"

The other day, though, it hit me - somewhere between my mouth and their ears, my words morph into another language that they simply do not understand. I'm thinking it must be something like Harry Potter speaking to snakes - I sound just fine to me, but those around me (who refer to me as Mom) either stare blankly, or continue on their way as if they'd heard nothing.

I have to say, this makes me feel so much better. They aren't ignoring me, we're just having an issue with a language barrier! And all this time I'd been worried - I mean, before I ever had children, I KNEW they would listen to me. I would say do this, they would do it (and like it), and nobody in the stores would stare at me and wonder why I was allowing my child to behave like an angry drunken person.

Now that I've gotten that one figured out, I can move on to my next parenting dilemma - how to disable the ejection device that launches my six-year-old out of his bed and into the hallway twenty or thirty times every night before he goes to sleep . . .

Very First Post

Okay, so here's something fun to kick off this blog - something fun that's going on on somebody else's blog. Check out Nathan Bransford's First Page Challenge. You only have until Wednesday, so get sending!

http://nathanbransford.blogspot.com/2008/01/surprisingly-essential-first-page.html