Nick caught a frog last night. It was a little thing, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. It’s amazing to watch how their legs tuck away under their bodies so neatly until they jump, trying to elude the glass bottle which slowly closes down on them. Nick didn’t want to touch it for fear of warts – is that an old wives’ tale? And I never know if it’s the wives that are old, or the tales. Once froggie was safely bottled, we left it for the night. This morning I didn’t know if it was dead or alive, and I didn’t really want to peer too closely over the top of the open jar in case it proved its vitality with a mighty leap into my face. But it wasn’t long before it was trying to stretch up on its spindly back legs to see if it could reach the top of the bottle, which it couldn’t. After the boys had admired it over breakfast, they let it go outside. The poor thing must have been a bit cold because its hops were slightly retarded, but after some time it vanished and is most likely in our back garden somewhere.
The rest of the morning followed along routinely. School was not complained over, and the Maths was duly caught up on after Aaron’s spurt on Friday night, with only a little whining from Caleb. I decided to thin out the marigolds in the back garden which are really growing well, and pulled out 34 of them (I wasn’t planning it, but ended up counting them (OCD?) and there were as many flowers as I am years old). I wanted to get them replanted in the front garden, so after the washing was hung, I took them around with my kitchen gloves and a spoon. It was easy going – the ground was damp and soft and the sun was shining. I let the boys get on with their Maths while I was outside. Nick took the opportunity to plant his orange tree in the front garden while I was out there. It was becoming pot-bound, and we would really like to see it succeed.
Nick had his lunch early and then left for Head o’Wain, where he and Peter are putting in a stone path, so that the governor’s wife will not have to wear her wellies to church anymore. No, this isn’t really the reason, but the swamp which has to be navigated before getting into the church is most uncongenial to the smartly-attired church-goers! We continued with school until 12.20, then had our lunch. It was tuna and mayo on defrosted seed-bread, and Aaron wasn’t at all keen on the tuna. I suggested that we pretend we are the children in the Alaskan school, who always have fish for lunch, and then it was a game and lots of fun. One of the little girls in this Alaskan school has a deaf sister, who doesn’t attend school because she’s deaf and dumb and so what’s she supposed to learn? The teacher things otherwise though, and before long they’re all learning sign language. This prompted the boys to find one of last year’s school books and look up the alphabet in sign language, which intrigued them. We signed out “I love you” to one another, although there is a shorthand sign for it.
The rest of the morning followed along routinely. School was not complained over, and the Maths was duly caught up on after Aaron’s spurt on Friday night, with only a little whining from Caleb. I decided to thin out the marigolds in the back garden which are really growing well, and pulled out 34 of them (I wasn’t planning it, but ended up counting them (OCD?) and there were as many flowers as I am years old). I wanted to get them replanted in the front garden, so after the washing was hung, I took them around with my kitchen gloves and a spoon. It was easy going – the ground was damp and soft and the sun was shining. I let the boys get on with their Maths while I was outside. Nick took the opportunity to plant his orange tree in the front garden while I was out there. It was becoming pot-bound, and we would really like to see it succeed.
Nick had his lunch early and then left for Head o’Wain, where he and Peter are putting in a stone path, so that the governor’s wife will not have to wear her wellies to church anymore. No, this isn’t really the reason, but the swamp which has to be navigated before getting into the church is most uncongenial to the smartly-attired church-goers! We continued with school until 12.20, then had our lunch. It was tuna and mayo on defrosted seed-bread, and Aaron wasn’t at all keen on the tuna. I suggested that we pretend we are the children in the Alaskan school, who always have fish for lunch, and then it was a game and lots of fun. One of the little girls in this Alaskan school has a deaf sister, who doesn’t attend school because she’s deaf and dumb and so what’s she supposed to learn? The teacher things otherwise though, and before long they’re all learning sign language. This prompted the boys to find one of last year’s school books and look up the alphabet in sign language, which intrigued them. We signed out “I love you” to one another, although there is a shorthand sign for it.
No comments:
Post a Comment