Artist Carl Warner

We discovered these landscapes a few weeks ago.

Look closely.  Notice anything unusual?  Every item in these works of art is edible.  We have had great fun looking at these landscapes and trying to figure out how the pictures were made.  For example, the mountains are bread and the sea is salmon. 

Carl Warner is a photographer based in London.  He is know for his "foodscapes", and you can see his work in many food ads.  Check out these sites.  There is duplication among the sites, but each one has a few unique images.  We especially enjoy the meat landscapes.

http://freshpics.blogspot.com/2008/03/amazing-foodscapes-by-carl-warner.html

http://www.moillusions.com/2008/06/carl-warners-food-landscapes-or.html

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/picturegalleries/howaboutthat/3519419/Foodscapes-amazing-food-art-by-Carl-Warner.html

The Crafter is particularly inspired, but I haven't given her permission to buy large amounts of produce to create a forest.

Goodbye Sweetie...Hello Princess Pink

This post is way overdue.  For some time now, the Crafter has been after me to change Sweetie's blog name.  The main reason is that she's not as sweet as she used to be.  My youngest daughter has a fiery temper and a well devoloped stubborn streak. 

I chose Sweetie's blog name shortly after her second birthday.  She was going through a phase where she called EVERYONE "Sweetie".   The checkout clerk and the bug man were not immune.   She picked up the phrase in her Sunday School class.  Her teacher always said "Bye Sweetie" when she left each week. 

The Crafter and I thought long and hard about what name should replace Sweetie.  We decided on Princess Pink.  Her favorite color is pink.  She must wear pink each day even if it's only her underwear.  She eats off a pink plate whenever possible.  Right now as I type, she is crying that we don't have a pink blow pop for her dessert.  She will have to settle for purple.

Her other interests currently include playing dress-up, coloring, and playing with her babies.

Princess Pink with her pink babies

History Project

I finally found the camera cable.  Now my pictures are out of the camera and in the computer.

This is a history project the Crafter did in April.   It was from Chapter 10 of The Story of the World volume 3 on Japan.  The Zen Garden was supposed to be rectangular, but we couldn't find anything suitable at the time.  Both gardens were made in styrofoam plates.

Zen Garden



Bonsai Garden

Memorial Day--Lest we forget

Unlearned Lesson
Memorial Day
Of every year
The little valiant
Flags appear
On every fallen
Soldier's grave--
Symbol of what
Each died to save.
And we who see
And still have breath--
Are we no wiser
For their death?

~Dorothy Brown Thompson~

What have I been doing?

Let's see.  It has been almost a month since I touched this blog.  During that time...

• The Crafter did her annual testing.  She scored in the 99th percentile.  I'm one proud mama.
• I had to distance myself and my children from a close friend of the family because of an untreated mental illness.  I cannot go into any more detail.  It is a situation that continues to be painful for all involved and requires much prayer.
• My sister and brother-in-law were both ordained as ministers.
• I planted peas, broccoli (didn't grow), and mint.
• We picked strawberries and made pies.
• The children made May baskets and delivered them to the neighbors.
• I discovered Pandora.
• Wild Thing had a checkup.  He needs to have his eyes checked.  I hope he doesn't need glasses.
• I received a weed whacker for an early Mother's Day gift.  Now if I could just crank the thing.
• My family took me to a Celtic Festival for Mother's Day.  Bagpipes rock!
• I finished the semester at the college.  That took up most of my computer time.
• The Crafter finished up her year at CYT.  We signed up for next year.
• And of course, we kept doing school.

Pictures are coming once I find the cable that goes with the camera.

In Which the Chemist Goes to the Furniture Store

I am in the market for a new couch.   My husband would say sofa.  I would not.  Our current couch is over 16 years old.  I do not know how old it really is.  We have had almost since we got married.  One of the Historian's friends gave it to us when he upgraded from the furniture that came with his mobile home.    Fast forward almost 16 years, 2 moves, 3 kids, one rabbit, three cats, and one dog and it's a wonder that the couch is still standing.  It still looks surprisingly good considering the abuse it has suffered.  But it ain't comfortable.  The springs are shot.  It has no back support whatsoever.  I can only last about 5 minutes before my hips and back start to ache.   One particular house guest deemed it the most uncomfortable couch he had ever sat upon. 

I have put off this purchase as long as I could.  I tried thrift stores and Craig's list to no avail. Now I am shopping in real furniture stores.  I hate shopping.  I especially hate shopping for expensive items.  So far I have gathered a bit of information from a grand total of two stores. 

• All couches are made for people over 5 feet 6 inches tall. Really.  (I'm 5'2")
• The couch from the sale paper will not be available at the local store.
• When it comes to sales remember "Prices and participation may vary". 
• If you go into a furniture store dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, you will not be waited on.
• If you go into a furniture store professionally dressed, you will still not be waited on, but at least 3 people will ask you for help.
• Couches only come in the same color as the floor model.  At least that's what I heard...not that anybody actually checked that book they have.
• Microfiber generates lots of static electricity.  You should have seen the Crafter's hair.
• It costs $150 to get some guy to spray a can of Scotch Guard on new furniture.
• The only affordable couch is a white couch.
• The only comfortable couch is a white couch.

I will be shopping in a larger town soon.  Maybe I'll have better luck.

Sick

I've been sick.  This is the second time this year I have been totally out of commission with some sort of illness.   This time it was some kind of respiratory thing with fever but not influenza.  In other words, I feel horrible.  I spent Easter afternoon and Monday trying to rest.  Yesterday, I managed to get up and start doing my jobs again out of pure necessity.  I was up most of last night coughing, and I am on day three of a sinus headache.  Today will be a challenge.

I wish I could say that my family is supportive and helpful when I am sick, but that is not the case.  They faithfully leave every dirty dish and sock for me to take care of when I recover.  The Historian does cook, but he does not clean up.  He will wash a dish if and only if he needs it for cooking.  The kids also neglect their regular chores if I don't remind them, so the living room is a wreck of toys and craft items.  Combine that with their windfall of 138 Easter eggs (but that's another post), and the house is a disaster area.  When I mentioned to the Historian that there was no need of the house going completely to a place usually reached by handbasket because I was sick, he looked a bit guilty, but offered no compassion and left for work.  Ugh.

I would like to thank the Crafter for being extra helpful.  She spent lots of time keeping Wild Thing and Sweetie entertained so I could nap Monday afternoon.  She even brushed Sweetie's teeth because it hurts my head to bend over.  I think she may feel a bit guilty since she's the one who brought this virus home.

Maybe today I can rally the troops for a big clean up.

Why I Hate Perler Beads

Do you know what Perler beads are?  They are teeny tiny little plastic beads that you place on a little pegboard.  Then you cover them with either Perler's special paper or waxed paper and melt the beads with a warm iron.  The beads then stick together and the design can be removed from the pegboard. 

Don't get me wrong.  Perler beads have provided my children with hours of crafting fun over the years.  They develop eye-hand coordination and fine motor skills.  They also help with following patterns and encourage creativity.  The Perler website has hundreds of free patterns for endless projects.  They are also made in the USA.  But, all of these fine attributes come at a price.   So here is my top 3 list of why I hate perler beads

3.  Anything that comes in quantities of 5,000 up to 17,000 and is marketed to children has to be trouble. 
The great bead spill of 2008 comes to mind.

2.  Easy to lose.  No matter how well you clean up, there are always a few that escape.  It really hurts when you step on one of those little beads in the middle of the night.

1.  They fit very neatly up three-year old noses.  Yep, you guessed it, Sweetie put a green Perler bead up her nose.  We tried making her sneeze with pepper.  That method worked on the Crafter when she stuck a button up her nose at age three.  It did not work on Sweetie.  I called the doctor.  He suggested pinching the nostril without the bead and blowing in Sweetie's mouth the same way you would give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation .  He said that it had worked when his son put a bead up his nose.  I had the Crafter hold Sweetie's arms and attempted the procedure.  Blow #1 had no effect.  Blow #2 pushed the bead to where it was visible.  Blow #3 pushed the bead to the nostril opening.  Blow #4 blew the bead out.  It worked thank God!!  I called the doctor to thank him.  I am grateful that the bead is out.  I am grateful that the doctor gave us a suggestion to try at home before going in.

And that's why I hate Perler beads.

Eek! A Mouse!

And another and another! 

Three blind mice?  I don't think so.  I think at least one of these mice had super senses.  We are usually visited by a rodent or two over the course of the year, but last week's events were a bit out of the ordinary.

It all started while the children were watching their bedtime show.  I had just finished taking a shower when I heard meowing and banging in the kitchen.  Stripes the cat had cornered a mouse, and she was playing with it.  It was a gruesome battle.  I quickly tossed the dog outside, and pondered how to best get rid of Micky's relative.  Meanwhile, Sweetie decided that she needed to be in the kitchen.   Here is her version of what happened.  "Stripes got a mouse.  Blood.  It was yuck.  Stripes ate the mouse. (Chemist note:  Stripes ate part of the mouse.)  Don't touch the mouse.  It bleed.  It has germs.  Mama clean up with spray."

That about sums up mouse #1.  Shudder.

Of course if you see one mouse, there are probably more.   The Historian found a mouse trap and baited it with peanut butter and a Cheerio.  The next morning, mouse #2 had met his demise.   I felt that I had already done my mouse disposal duty and begged the Historian to remove the remains. 

The mouse trap was rebaited with peanut butter and a Cheerio.  The next morning the trap was empty.   Hmm....interesting.  Another Cheerio with peanut butter went into the trap.  The next morning the trap was once again empty.   Apparently, we had a very intelligent mouse living under the sink.   More drastic measures were needed.   The Historian wanted to give the Cheerio another shot, but I used a bit of moldy cheese instead.  The next morning the trap was not empty.  We had caught the fattest mouse I had ever seen.  The Historian thought that it should be my turn to remove the remains, but I acted like a girl and made him do it.   After all, the mouse I had to dispose of was no longer in one piece.

The mouse trap was baited once again, but there have been no more mice.

Wild Thing Starts Kindergarten

Wild Thing is my middle child.  He is not like his sister the Crafter.  She was the one who threw her book at age two and a half and cried about not being able to read the words.  She was reading by four and a half.  It would have been sooner, but I was scared to try to teach her to read until she turned four. 

Now back to Wild Thing.  He was not ready to read at 2.5, or 3, or 4, or 4.5.  He was busy being a boy.  The Historian would comment from time to time about what the Crafter was doing at the same age, and he would question why Wild Thing wasn't getting started with school yet.  I kept saying that he wasn't ready yet.  I let him play Starfall on the computer.  I read plenty of books and pointed to the words.  He just didn't seem ready.  They spark wasn't there.

Wild Thing turned 5 right after Christmas.  The Historian said that he needed to begin Kindergarten.  So I dusted off Phonics Pathways and began.  It has been slow going.   Now I am pleased to announce that Wild Thing has read not one, not two, but three Bob Books.  He is so proud of himself. 

Math is going very well.  Kindergarten Saxon was boring to him, so we are working through Singapore 1A.  I haven't wrapped my mind around this one yet.  He really seems to understand it.  What's even stranger is that we do a lot of it orally because his writing is really, well it looks like a five year old boy's writing.  Sometimes we do "block math" for a change.


He also enjoys pattern blocks.