Friday, November 27, 2015

Tardigradres are freaky

Still very very busy and shouting at the children to give me space, but we're also dong things like lots of read alouds (I think we traumatized the librarians), a lot of Home Ec aka "You live in this house, you have to do chores!", and lots and lots of How Does That Thing Work. Frequently about things I don't understand, and that reminds me, I'm supposed to find out how the mechanism for an escalator works. Yesterday we were running over the order of planets, and this morning the girls and I were looking at tardigrades, because why not. They're not really creatures from our planet, clearly. I mean, have you seen them?

From Perry Street Palace
Not a real animal. A little alien joke on us. I should show the boys when they finally meander downstairs. They're SO WEIRD.

I just finished the two above commissions, and I'm pretty happy with them, although I am perfectionistically unhappy with some of the bead quality, but it's possible that maybe not everything has to be completely perfect at a moleculoar level. Hmph. Anyway, those are heading out in the mail on Monday, if all goes well.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Re-reading and autopsies

I just re-read some of my posts from last January, when we were at the beginning of the end for Mum. I'm reading about my agonizing decisions, and the pro and con feeding tube arguments, and in light of what the autopsy showed I was absolutely right, and I am so grateful for that. Mum had Alzheimer's, Lewy Body disease (which causes hallucinations and probably accounts for her belief that everything in the air and water was poisonous), and lots of small bleeds throughout her brain. We don't know when the hemmorhaging started, but it probably (says the report) accounts for the rapidity of the decline. From October though January, if I had to guess, because that's when the deterioration got really fast.

There would have been no extension of life with a tube, and she really was actively dying from multiple conditions all interacting. Thank God and all our friends and family for the support and love we received. When I remember that time my most vivid memories are the smell of hospital tubing and disinfectant, the ticking and beeping of all the machines. And the waxy, alert but uncomprehending, stare of my mother's eyes.

I decided on the writing for her gravestone this week. It will say her name and her dates, and "All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well". Because it is, and it will, even though I can't see it now.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

The craft show was great

The craft sale was great, I have a bunch of extra commissions, and I am happy and my hands are sore from pliers and my floor is covered with bits of metal. It's good.

Friday, November 20, 2015

Things that aren't fun

Reading your mother's autopsy report. That's not fun.

Monday, November 16, 2015

Making all the pretty things

Very busy and my hands are also sore.

Friday, November 13, 2015

Maybe I'm not so useless

I just read a blog post from this time last year, when I was apparently reading Farmer Boy aloud to Nat. That means that in the last year, we've read Farmer Boy, Little House in the Big Woods, Little House on the Prairie, By the Banks of Plum Creek, The Neverending Story, Prince Caspian, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the Silver Chair, and The Last Battle. I think i'm missing one or two. Still, that seems like a pretty respectable list, actually. We started a few, like The Phantom Tollbooth, and The Horse and His Boy, which we didn't get very excited about.
These are Miriam's cuddly bed time toys
I'm hoping to read Momo next, Michael Ende's beautiful and strange novel about a little girl who listens so intensely that she can hear what people are really saying, and the Men in Grey who steal people's time, and the magical wise tortoise, Cassiopeia, who can see into the future by half an hour. Maybe The Lord of the Rings soon? Before or after The Dark is Rising?

Thursday, November 05, 2015


I am adding poetry memorization to the boys' work, but it's voluntary. They get a game app for every poem memorized, so their enthusiasm for memory work has just skyrocketed. It's pretty great.

Right now I am forcing Nat through his one whole page of math, which he could do in five minutes, but he is building a paper model of the FLDSMDFR from Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, and I have to keep dragging him back on track. We're almost done The Last Battle and I'm hoping we can read  Momo next, by Michael Ende (who also wrote The Neverending Story). Momo is a beautiful beautiful book about time and stories and love and someone who can listen so hard she can hear truth.

Now I think he's singing Stars from Les Mis.

Thomas is upstairs on my iPad, because he did his phonics and is halfway through memorizing A. A. Milne's poem about a furry bear. The girls are shouting about who gets to be the Mommy Penguin and whether or not there's any cake. They're not shouting at me, so everything is fine.