Returning Feynman

The boys and I finally managed to bury our gerbil, Feynman. We had him put to sleep (yes, you can have a gerbil euthanized at the vet's) over a month ago after a large tumor on his shoulder extended through the skin. He was bouncing along fairly well with this, but when bone was visible, my older son decided to let him go. While he opted out of being in the room for the injection, he was able to say goodbye in the exam room and see him again after his death. The front desk staff commented on the peaceful nature of our family during our visit to the clinic, and while our eyes were dry, I think the statement spoke more of our spirit than our outward appearance.

So why are we just burying this little critter at a date so distant from his passing? Four inches of rain the weekend of his death made his spot in the freezer quite secure while we waited for the yard to dry. The immediacy of the situation left, to be honest. We recovered from our first non-flushable pet loss while the ground soaked up the rain.

Today's weather drew me outside for one of the last gardening hurrahs of the season. I find post-summer clean-up a bit sad and not nearly as fun as spring gardening, so neglect sometimes occurs. The boys and I planted about 50 tulip and daffodil bulbs when my mind turned to Feynman in the freezer. I asked my older son if he'd like to bury him with some of the bulbs, returning the gerbil to the earth. He heartily took to the idea, and now Feynman rests among a cluster of red tulip bulbs in our backyard flower garden. Spring blooming will hold special meaning in 2009, knowing that our friend is part of the cycle of the universe.

New Friends!

We're officially a foster family for the Michigan Humane Society! Right now, two adorable kittens, 5 weeks and 7 weeks of age, are romping around the house, delighting all of us to no end. They're with us for at least three weeks, with weight gain as top priority. Despite coming from different litters, they became fast friends and enjoy wrestling and pouncing together until they collapse into a pile of furry exhaustion, the older resting his head on the younger. We're completely won over by their so-soft fur, squeeky meows, and clumsy antics. Of course, getting any homeschooling work done is challenging -- how can anything compete with all that cuteness?

Books Abound

This last week has been a feast for my bibliophile self! Thursday found the boys and I setting up the library book sale and, of course, preshopping. I'm on my own for the return for clean-up this afternoon, and I'm looking forward to some end-of-sale shopping prior to my shift. I'm surprised there's anything left by the end of the sale, but there are still goodies to be found, all discounted greatly.

As a family, we took a record four trips in six days to the same library, returning what we finished and picking up holds, always with "just a peek" for "one or two things." Our peak volume out was 70 titles, although we're down after another round of returns. My older son spends a good amount of time requesting whatever his current obsession is -- Bone comics and Peanuts cartoon books are current favorites. They don't take long to read, and I suspect he spends more time requesting those stacks of book than reading some of the volumes. I wonder where he acquired the habit of requesting-as-hobby? Hmm.

To top it off, my first order as a Scholastic Book Club homeschooling teacher arrived this week. As a child, I loved those newsprint mini catalogues, and that adoration hasn't abated. I'm glad to have homeschooling friends with whom to share this resource, and it does make for more books that pass my eyes.

All this makes for a fairly precarious situation on my bedside table and a bookcase in every room.

Potatoes and Lesson Plans

After a week of delaying, I finally found my way to the vegetable garden which borders our back fence. Unstaked beefsteak tomato plants sprawled lazily, their fruit rotting against the earth as soon as it ripened. The grape tomatoes weathered their neglect much better, and the harvest was plenty. The beets are almost ready, as are the carrots, while the basil flowered weeks ago and has begun to seed. Greens and cucumbers are in the past, memories of our taste buds as August comes to a close

As I cleaned up the rotten tomatoes, a red potato peeked at me from the ground. I haven't planted potatoes for at least two years, so these guys are a delightful surprise this summer. A few weeks back, I stumbled upon a lone cantaloupe, another volunteer thanks to a compost pile that doesn't heat up enough to kill seeds. These finds make the weeds from the same compost pile entirely worth it. These are gifts from the earth, reminders of summers gone by. Numerous volunteer tomato plants grace the edges of the compost pile behind our garage, giving gifts freely without care from anyone.

From rich soil came surprises. Some of what I planted with purpose and planning made took root and flourished, but the some of the best came from sheer neglect. As another homeschooling "school year" begins in two days, I feel the panic to finish preparing, to find the materials that will cause the best fruit to grow in my children. I'm knee deep in lesson planning sheets (largely blank) and curriculum and rather certain that it won't all come together by Tuesday. Fortunately, the soil around here is rich, and the boys continue to grow and learn, plans completed or not. They have quite a bit in common with our surprise potatoes.