Dirty Hands

When we moved to P-town, I was happy to have found a home in a fairly new neighbourhood with some old trees out back. While I've been told that the previous owners were enthusiastic gardeners, they also had four boys, three dogs and a divorce to plan. The back garden, therefore, had the look of an incomplete thought. Six trees line the back fence, the last vestiges of what was once the property line between two farms. The land beneath them was wood-chipped in one area and sparcely covered with decorative rock in another. The north fence line was planted with day lilies, peonies and dreadful prairie grasses. (When plants send you running for an inhaler, they quickly lose their appeal.) The south side was cleared, bricked in for planting, but bare. A blank pallet! To some this would come as a Godsend, but to a novice gardener like myself, it feels tantamount to being handed a length of rope tied in the shape of a noose. It's taken me a few years to come up with a sustainable idea for the area. As you can see from the following pictures, the plants are still babies, but try to imagine them two years from now,  when they will be about two to three feet taller and filled out with new growth. I've enough space left to plant some pretty annuals, should I ever be able to rise from the couch. 

A combination of purple and gold burberry interspersed with dwarf honeysuckle line the south fence line.

A line of yellow-green and variegated hostas get a little late day sun beneath the trees. 

Dogs!

Adorable. Sweet. Loving. Loyal. Dogs are all these things, particularly my own dynamic duo. And yet, there are moments when they take the time to wake us humans from our love-induced anthropomorphic haze. Honey prefers to roll on dead animals and eat the droppings of other species. Maya, on the other hand, has taken things to a whole new level: she eats her own poo. Honestly, if she were flexible enough, we might never have to pick up after her. In fact, she's so efficient at her personal poop-and-scarf routine that it is often only her breath that gives it away. Sweet, it is not.

A Week at Camp Mighty: Day 1

Campers arrived in their pyjamas Monday morning demanding food only to discover that, at Camp Mighty, campers make their own breakfast. They also would be making lunch-- a picnic to be eaten at a nearby-but-yet-to-be-explored park. A menu of turkey sandwiches, apples, bananas, water and Swiss chocolate was selected by the campers, prepared and packed for the excursion. Detweiller Park did not disappoint. There were plenty of nooks and crannies for a rousing game of Hide and Seek. The play equipment was a tad toasty, but that could only be blamed on the skyrocketing temperatures and matching humidity. It is the Midwest after all!
A muddy, sticky, and steamy hike along the sorely misnamed Dry Creek Trail was followed by Dairy Queen and a swim.

All in all the campers had a terrific day and Mighty Mom, Head Counsellor and Assistant Chef, got to know her daughters again. They were sorely missed.

Back to the Blogosphere

Hey there!
I know. Long time no blog. What can I say? The last nine months has passed as a blur. Oh, there were definitely some blog-worthy moments. I hope to get to them all over the coming months. Emma the Brave turned double-digits, Mighty Mouse turned 8, and the Captain turned 40! Heh, heh. (Remind me to share how the Captain killed the battery on his new car.)
In my defence, I've blogged over 20 times since January for my Math Methods course. Yes, blogging is now a university-level required skill! It boggles the mind that I completed my first degree with a merely a typewriter. Now you need Internet access 24/7 and assignments have due dates like Sunday, January 23rd at 11:59pm. In any event, Melissa's Math Munch Box is not the least bit interesting unless you plan to teach math to kids ages 5 to 15. Warning: any attempt at completing the referred to readings in 15 weeks or less may result in shingles. (Yet another story that warrants sharing).
I just completed a required art course. It was a hoot. A perfect summer activity if you ask me, that is, if your going to be studying anyway. The following are my teaching prototypes created by both me and Emma. I bet you'll have trouble guessing which are hers. Send me an email if you want instructions for kids at school or home. They require no fancy tools, only humility.