The Orwell Diaries republished 70 years later, to the day, day by day, blog style. Pretty cool for students.

Tips for Kids Writing Poetry from Kristine George

A brief list of games the children have invented. The list is not exhaustive but may exhaust you. Characters follow titles.

Chicken is Bagel Hair (Chicken is Good) (Chicken is Beauty Hair) (Chicken is Beagle Hair): Beauty, Gray Tail, Clover, Snowflake, Misty, Felicity, Pete Paintbrush, Moonlight, Moondrop, Lavender, Jasmine, Sally, Easter, Bob, Kitty, Minions, Sam the Stupid Horse
P in the Worm Hole: Puppy, Weird Owner, The Plush Puppy Lady, Rob, The Chihuahua, Entire Army, Wolfie, Meowsie
Puppyfette: Owner, Worm Hole
The Ash Game: Ash, Fairy, Ashley, Fashion Force, a Pikachu named Rosie
The Barracuda Game: Owner, Three Evil Step Sisters, The Girl's Mother
Skate Spy: Little Billy, Jake, Skate Spy, Marco (The Duh Kid,) The Giant Tootsie Roll, Little Billy's Gang
Elvian: Strongbow, Pine Sparrow (his ex girl friend,) Mistfeather, The Puffballs, The Bumblets, Chiron The Second, Pixie Crusher (the weirdo,) Pan, Pixie Crusher's Entire Army
Puff: Puffballs, Moonlight, Strongbow
Battle Axe: Snowflake, Clover, Misty, Girl of the Mountains, George, The Pirates
The Beauty Game: The Mad Scientist, The Colts, Grey Tale, a beautiful unicorn named Felicity
Back When Horses Could Fly: Big Headed Colts (singing “I wanna be a colty star!”) Beauty, Colts
Honey: Luke and his team, Honey
Death is on Our Heels: Death, Minions, Luke Lego Figure, A Beautiful Smart Young Leader and Her Team, that knight guy – Sir Ktadugugdaan, Side Kick, Sam the Stupid Horse
Bobo: Bobo The Underwear Dog, His Owner
Crazy Baby: Crazy Baby's Dad, Dorky Baby, Crazy Baby, Crazy Baby's Army, Dorky Baby's Army
That Horsey Game: One Bucking Horse, Small Two Year Old Girl, Same Older Ten Year Old Girl, Fat Guy, Paint Pony named Miss Pretty (Rainbow)
Come Over: Bad Kids
The Secret Life of a Life Guard: Life Guard, Mermaid Hunter
The Mermaid Game (version one): The Baby (played by Henry,) The Mermaid - who takes care of the Baby finding him stranded in a basket on the ocean, Merdad
The Mermaid Game (version two): The Baby (played by Riley,) The mermaid who takes care of the baby finding her stranded in a basket on the ocean
KK or Karate Kittens: Razer, Night Spot, Charmer, Thrower, Nightspot and Charmer's child, Cooper who died of asthma, Meowsie, Mowsie, Razer's wife, Razer's teddy bear, Razer's son, Lisha, Midnight, The Cat Shape, Takeshi, The Living Oak Tree, The Teacher “Pad Pad Kick”
Elves Inc: Two Elves
Colties Inc:
Pound Cake: Mr. Flufferbunkins the Chihuahua, Caroline, Mistress The Grumpy Lady Who Owns the Pound Cake Store, Eric The Boy Who Works There, Jordan -Caroline's Baby, Eric's Dad, Eric's Mom A Woman Famous Through Out The House For Her Good Pizzas (I thought she ordered. She ordered some. That doesn't mean she can't make up others.) The Old People
The Great Bedidi: Small Toddler, The Plumber, Jingle Bell the Great Bedidi's snow white horse, Great Bedidi the Viking
Rescue Princess: Prince, Princess, Cold Water
The Piranha and Fishy Game: Piranha, Fisherman, Mermaid, Johnathon who works for a computer company
Fish Stick: Mystic, Freedom -Mystic come back as a ghost in the shape of her mother, Tommy the little boy down the street who calls Mystic “Fish Stick”, Caroline the Owner
Frap Ray: any car behind us
The R H F T K K: Riley, Henry, Facha, Talto, Kit, Kaya
Closet: The Retired Army Dude, The Girl Who Killed The President, The People Trying To Get the Girl Who Killed The President, The Super Baby, The Yoyo

I've never cared about labels for these essays. But recently I've been covetous of other blog formats with slick buttons for different topics. I could have a button for unschooling. One for cows. One for Mommy's infantile and ego-ill need for attention. And one, with thanks to Supernatural, called Pictures Of My Soup. This post is filed under Pictures of My Soup, for sure.

I came home this weekend and found Ry rolling fresh homemade spinach pasta with her Dad. Her Dad, the man of my dreams. Because, did you hear me? I said, Fresh Homemade Spinach Pasta, I came home (as in, I was OUT and then came back) and they were making it! All I was required to do was make the decision: butter or sauce (homemade of course,) then sit and eat. He said, "look, it looks like a mermaid's kitchen!" I love that man. I need a button for true love as well. I guess we could file this one either way.

Meet our new baby. She isn't named yet. But she is outstanding in her field. And she looks like the culmination of so many things I want for our children. If we are lucky, she will bring us unforeseen lessons as she brings us fresh organic milk and calves. She will bring us moon set mornings. She will bring us a new rhythm. She will bring us into the freshest air of every season. She may insulate us from a swinging economy and the price of milk. But mostly she will remind us again, every third day when it is our turn in the dairy, that we can begin to depend more on our selves, our creativity, the work from our hands.

I look to her this fall, a sweet symbol of our handmade life. I do not want my children mass produced in the academic industry. I don't care for those lessons nor that example. I want my children standing in a field this year soaking up solitude, immediacy, mother nature, and the innate reward of hard work.

Yes, she looks like a gift and a challenge to me. I am aware she is a beast of burden. Aren't we all? The question is, for whom do you work? This year I work with her, for my children, and to put food directly on the table for several years to come.

We could call her Uhuru and intend the Swahili meaning: freedom. But more likely she'll be named Nectar Pie or Bess or Honey. I don't care so much what we call her. She looks like freedom to me, the kind of freedom that works with in a system, provides wholesome nourishment, and serves more than just yourself. But independently, on a small scare, by hand, the slow way, and with great love.

Urban Way by Issa Nyaphaga

You feel me? Oh, HELL YES.

And They Start To Look Primal

Then again, this is primary school.



We discussed the best strategies to help the oven dry faster. We decided to scoop the sand form out on the second day. The cob was still quite wet. We knew the oven might collapse without its form. But we also knew it would dry much faster if hollow. So we took the risk and scooped out the sand and even built a tiny fire. The oven wouldn't draw well. This seems to be more of an issue with smaller ovens and may indicate our door isn't cut high enough. We added an air hole in the back of the oven. But the fire may simply pull too much moisture out of the clay, in effect snuffing itself. Time will tell. I'm glad we hollowed the oven because it is drying VERY slowly. Yesterday I sent the kids out with matches and orders to burn a small fire on the hearth. They were more successful than me.

Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon.
The little dog laughed to see such sport
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

I said to the farmer, "We want to keep a cow and milk her, me and my friend. We're all soon to have teenagers to feed." And the farmer replied, "We have plenty of cows. No need to buy one. My wife would love to have a fresh cow."

We shop off the pages of a storybook, at this organic farm. The blacksmith and his wife live there. "Come any day. Let's fire up the forge." Sure we have pork. And the cows, sweet Dexters, you'll have to halter break a heifer and wait for her to grow up.

Mothers are pretty good at waiting, knowing exactly how fast they grow. This year we will spend our mornings in a field with a calf. We pour in love, learn how to handle with care, and are soon to be rewarded with fresh organic milk. A fair trade all the way over the moon. I am beyond thrilled.

So we've found a class and a job and a new way of life, all rolled into one sweet misty morning meadow. There will be days, difficult to wake. That's ok. Its just my job. I'm a dairy farmer now. And these children will know where their milk and butter and cream and cheese come from. And they will never forget the smell of the field, the fluff of the fur, the months Mama Cow needs for her calf, the circle, and the possibilities inherent in friendly open inquiry.

She packs so much love into everything she does these days. Reading has changed her life. She writes more. She spends time on the computer composing long love letters. When I say love letters, I mean love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love ps: I love you love letters! She is so sweet. And she is starting to look so big to me, so grown. Sigh.

Blogger has wacked out on me. What's up with all this underscoring? I can't make it go away...

"Mommy, this is the coolest thing I have ever made."

First, make a sand form on a suitable cooking surface. In this case, since we are only building a small test oven, we chose a nice flat rock. Fire brick would be better for a permanent oven.

Cover your sand form with a layer of wet newspaper. Begin mixing clay and sand.

Keep mixing. Mix more than you think you need. The mixture is now called "cob."
Scroll down for the rest of the story, (blogger was frustrating today!)

Begin layering your cob around your form. Be firm and sure. Sculpt. Take care not to deform your form. (Which would be bad form -ha!) Cut out your door, almost as wide as the inner oven and 3/4 as tall. I'm thinking this door is wonky. But we'll see how it fires. Apparently, doors are trickier on smaller ovens. Leave your oven to dry. Later, we'll remove the sand and figure out some kind of wooden door. After the oven is fully dry, it is ready to fire. Hum, what pan might fit in here? Anyone have an old Easy Bake pie pan I can borrow? Or, ummm, tiny mini pizzas right on the stone!