Saying goodbye

We have learned lately that there is little limit to the amount of change that a day can bring. Less than twenty-four hours and our lives have been changed forever.

I used exactly this title five years ago when we had to say goodbye to Diamond, and now we lost have another beloved member of our family in saying goodbye to Moose. He'd been getting old, but the loss was still sudden. He woke up yesterday acting a little under the weather, and by midnight he seemed to be suffering from vertigo, but after an emergency vet visit first thing this morning, we learned that a cancer, which we weren't aware of, had caused sudden catastrophic damage. And again, as with Diamond, we found ourselves having to make the decision to let him go.

We had twelve wonderful years with little Moose, and not one of them would we trade for relief from the sorrow we feel now.

 

Getting back to crafty

It's been a while, so after a few math sheets, some reading time, and a variety of errands, we decided to visit our craft supplies again. Calvin had a particular project in mind, one that he'd seen in a library book on the Aztecs (and you see us making our way through the classical American civilizations). With cardboard, construction paper, fake feathers, floss, one bamboo pole, scissors, tape (of various types), and glue (of various types), we constructed a fan thingy. Strangely the book does not go into any detail about what the fan thingy was for, it just suggested that we make one and Calvin thought that was a good idea. Since this was our first meeting with the Aztecs I'm hoping some of the other books we haven't yet read will tell us more.

Don't sew with cats

It is snowing rather insistently outside at this moment and that adds to the festive feeling that is beginning to take over the house. Our morning project was to light the tree and, although it's still awaiting all but two ornaments, it does add a cheery glow to the place.

It actually rained all day—a driving, frigid rain that finally talked us out of running the errands we'd had planned. We spent the morning on the tree and on a few tidbits here and there, like piano, Legos, and rediscovering favorite annual books. Then we got as far as getting dressed after lunch only to stand in the front window and watch the rain blow in sheets, listening to the wind batter the house, before we turned right around and changed back into pajamas. It was just that kind of day.

So a little more decorating, a little time spent with human evolution and migration (we found a great new book: Evolution, The Human Story), and some rediscovering of our favorite seasonal books (ahhh, the Polar Express, just for my train lover).

And then there was a lot of crafting.

We did some prep work for Christmas cards, and then we tackled a sewing project. Sewing on the floor with a cat in the room is near impossible (I could not convince her that the thread was not a toy). Still we actually finished two ornaments together and learned along the way; I learned a blanket stitch, and Calvin got his first go at sewing, something he greatly enjoyed.

And that snow outside, if it does what they say (although when does it ever?), will blanket us with up to five inches of wet snow over night. I love that first morning of waking to white, but I hope it doesn't slow us down on the errands that now must be run—our St. Nicholas celebration practically right around the corner.

Sunny Tuesday

Our days now start closer to seven in the morning rather than eight, a blessing in disguise thanks to the time change. I really love the extra hour in the morning, but does that mean I can force myself to get up on a regular basis? No, but that time change sure works wonders. Calvin started his day at the piano, and being earlier means he can spend that time with his dad, which is great since piano is something they like to do together. I started my day with coffee and a crossword. 

By nine we were busy researching mammoths—woolly mammoths, to be specific—and the next thing we knew it was almost noon. That's a lot to learn about woolly mammoths, plus I made him one out of felt (the population on the downstairs Cenozoic timeline is growing) while he filled out an animal report form on the fuzzy guy. The boy has a thing for mammoths these days. Along with penguins and indricotheres and...

In looking for more information on woolly mammoths we came across a great online guide to the La Brea Tar Pits, and that entertained us for quite a bit longer.

We watched Becoming Human (ep. 3) over lunch, then wandered outside to rake leaves, toss the football (he's getting pretty good), and pester the cat through the window. Plus we found some confused raspberries on our bush.

Pirate play and creativity, more prehistoric mammals on the felt line, and after dinner he read to me before bed because we can't seem to find the book that I had been reading to him. Where is that black hole in the house?

Rainy Monday (yesterday)

I may never, in all of my life, recover from the "waking up for work on a Monday" feeling sufficiently enough to deflate the elation of waking up on a Monday and not having to go anywhere. It's been over five years now and I can still say that, and I hope I always can.

That feeling of elation is tripled when the Monday is a rainy one, because it's that kind of Monday that was specifically made for staying at home and being cozy. In fact, we swapped our pajamas for street clothes only long enough to go to the library and check on the sale room and swap some due books for some new books, then back to the pajamas.

I started the crock-pot just before lunch so that the smell would start to warm the house (vegetable soup), did two extra crosswords, and finished my new book. Calvin steadfastly alternated between math at the kitchen table and music at the piano all day. He was so happily dedicated to those spots that he finished two full sections in his math book today, and learned, almost to perfection, four new songs in his new piano book. We also colored prehistoric mammals, read books to the cat, and played mancala, watched the birds play in the soft splatters of rain on the deck.