Winter Backyard Wonderland

I couldn't handle another round of indoor tag today, so I insisted that our Physically Educating segment take place in the snow.   The only problem was that I made this declaration in GNotSuchABaby's presence.  She was not going to be left out again.

Very serious about this first expedition into snow play.

There's lots to do, even if there isn't enough snow for a fort, snow people, or sled pulling.

Digging in the ice left by a dripping garden hose.  We prepare well for winter.

Since this is his favorite cat, I'd hate to see him playing with the ones he doesn't like so much.

I made them all group together for a picture.

Immediately after enjoying a nice healthy scarf snack, Weston returned to frozen gardening. Sam turned to Norah with an enticing, "Let's pretend we're Americans fighting Germans in World War 2!"

She was all over that idea.
I am raising my children right. (I hope.) Of course, when I was growing up, we pretended that we were oppressed Jews running away and hiding from Germans, not fighting.  I can't decide which role play is better, but there is no doubt that snow enhances both situations.
The little sisters were left to fend for them{bundled-up}selves.  When I saw the protective way that Willa was guiding Ginger around the yard, my icy heart cracked with warm feelings of good cheer.

Were there ever such adorable sisters? I mean, since my sisters and I grew up?

Type A Bee

Do you aspire to be like a frantic little bee, sucking the best things out of life without disturbing the beauty?  A bee is such a do-gooder. 

My ten-year-old son took this picture. I just thought you should know that. 

She steps daintily through the stamens and pistils, seeking the nectar needed for honey making.  Almost as an after-thought, she provides pollination service to the flowers she visits.

Like reading Proverbs 31, watching bees makes me feel guilty about my own laziness.  I think I'm more of a slug type.


For the record, I'd like to point out that bees are also known to deliver a pretty nasty sting to others that get in their way or annoy them.  It is probably because they're so focused on their busy-ness.  I admit, when I'm over-achieving, I get a little mean.  What violence do slugs deliver? Slime?  Ooze?

So I'm not going to feel guilty about my laziness.  We are enjoying the last week of half-day school and by the time lunch rolls around, I feel as though I've used up the next to last ounce of energy I possess. {I bet bees don't even stop for lunch or afternoon coffee.} I feel confident that we're doing a decent job of covering the most basic of elementary subjects: reading, writing and arithmetic.  During the afternoons, we've sprinkled a few important extra-curriculars in: piano lessons, Sauder Village, cookie baking and the like.  {Today I taught my daughter how to steam open a sealed envelope, a life lesson whose importance might very well be questioned in this age of electronic mail, instant messages and the senseless abbreviations we call "texts."}  After labor day we plan to commence our six hour school days. I hope to find myself infused with a bit more get-up-and-go.  But can I become both bee-like and sting-less?  Or is a slug always a slug?

Here. Let this short little snippet of song cheer you up. This is a lip sync video the Man of the House and his children entered into a local radio station's contest.

I know, right? They're just so cute.  I live with this cuteness every day.  If I were a bee type I probably wouldn't notice the cuteness.