Discovery

Until recently, we bought margarine in three-pound tubs because those were the cheapest per pound. But one day the store was out of the brand we usually buy, so sticks were a better deal. We found the same number of pounds lasted a lot longer. Apparently, GL had been stealthily scooping it out of the tubs with his fingers and eating it!

Several years ago, I threw out all our wire hangers and replaced them with plastic hangers, because plastic hangers don't tangle.

Keeping Warm

The whole family have colds. I don't usually feel too bad just sitting around, but as soon as I try to get up and do anything, I'm tired and out of breath. And this morning I woke up with a sinus headache that won't go away. I did manage to shovel the part of the walk I wasn't up to finishing yesterday. I even got GL to help a little. He's got more energy than anyone else, and wants to go, go, go! The forecast calls for snow tomorrow, followed by freezing rain, followed by more snow. The rest of the week looks like cold with occasional snow. Time to stay close to home and make chili.

Here's my recipe:

Gringo Chili
1 lb. ground turkey
1 medium onion (Dehydrated minced onion keeps longer, doesn't need chopping, and works just fine.)
2 T chili powder
2 cans (15 oz ea.) kidney beans, rinsed and drained
2 cans (10.75 oz ea.) tomato soup

Chop the onion to the desired size. Some people like big chunks. Others like it so finely minced, it almost dissolves. Brown the ground turkey along with the onion and chili powder in a soup pot. Why dirty an extra pan? Add the beans and tomato soup, plus one can of water. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Continue heating until chili resumes boiling as soon as you stop stirring. Optional: garnish each serving with a handful of crushed Corn Chex. (The off-brand works just fine. Stir it in, and it gives a flavor like crumbled corn bread in your chili, but without the fat.) If you're a real wimp, cut the chili powder in half. It's best to let each person salt and pepper his or her portion to taste. I usually make a double batch, because that's what fits in my soup pot, and refrigerate the leftovers in individual portions in Smart Spin containers.

Fall Cleaning Update

For those of you following our Fall Cleaning, here's an update: We took a week off school to clean house. Since we school all through summer, we can afford to do this. We were making excellent progress, but the job was bigger than I had estimated. As the end of the week approached, I thought if we took a second week and pushed through, we could make it.

Thursday night, I felt like I had something caught in my throat. I had a drink of water. The feeling remained. I tried eating and drinking various things, but couldn't get rid of it. By Friday morning, I had a sore throat. Over the next several days, I had a sore throat, body aches, and chills, but no fever. We continued at a reduced pace. It took all week to finish the kitchen. I still haven't cleaned inside or behind the refrigerator, nor inside the oven. Those jobs never did get done last year because just as I was nearing the end of Fall Cleaning, we all came down with the flu. Not H1N1, but a garden variety respiratory influenza that lasted on and off all winter.

I'm feeling better now, but I couldn't see taking a third week off school. The house is looking much better, but if we don't finish the job, the remaining mess will quickly retake the house. So we decided to start back to school, but continue with Fall Cleaning, devoting an hour a day to the project until it's done.  Today we did the living room. Beyond the usual picking stuff up off the floor, that meant moving the furniture, cleaning up all the stuff that accumulates under and behind it, and giving the room a thorough vacuuming. We did not, however, move the piano. That sucker's heavy!

How did we come to own a piano when none of us play? When we were packing to move here, some friends had a piano that was only played by their daughter, who was going off to college. Our boys were just about the right age for starting piano lessons, which we thought would do them a world of good. There was room on the moving truck. The catch: we couldn't find a piano teacher willing to attempt to teach a child with autism. At that point, GL was not far behind developmentally, and his behaviors were well-controlled by medication. I think he would not have been that different than students a year or two younger. But no one would try. They wouldn't even return our phone calls. BB was not that interested in lessons. And it would have been a financial stretch for us to afford lessons for one boy, let alone two. Since then, we have tried to offer the piano to anyone who would haul it away and play it. No takers.

All that remain to be cleaned upstairs are one closet, the fridge, and the oven. Then the basement, which promises to be as big a project as the rest of the house put together.

Has your kid's room developed its own B.O.?

The boys' room has had its own B.O. lately. We change the bedding, vacuum, and air it out, which all helps, but it always seems to come back.

We are in the middle of Fall Cleaning, our annual deep-down, do-the-hard-jobs-you've-been-putting-off cleaning. When we came to the boys' room, we changed the bedding, put all the summer clothes in storage, removed the dirty laundry that had been stuffed in with the clean, cleaned the closet, vacuumed, moved all the furniture and vacuumed under it. We found dirty socks anywhere they could be hidden: under the bed, behind the bed, under the blankets, under the dressers, behind the dressers, in the toy box, in the bottom of the closet. We even found dirty dishes in the closet. And guess whose they all were?

Fall Cleaning Day 2/3 Mozart in the Morning

I was tired last night, so I went to bed early. For me, that means around 10 p.m. Usually when I do that, I either can't sleep, or wake up in a couple hours and can't get back to sleep. This time I slept until 8:30, and woke up refreshed. GL slept until 9. That's different! Got some breakfast, started the laundry, got the boys started on their chores, and put on The Masters of Classical Music - Mozart. I think this will be a productive day!

A Day of Rest? or Fall Cleaning, Day 2

We started Fall Cleaning on Saturday, instead of waiting for Monday, and we had a very productive day. Since Sundays are usually so busy around here, I didn't think I'd get much cleaning done anyway, so I made it a day of rest. After church, we cam home and tried to take it easy.

But I found I've forgotten how to rest. I'm good at wasting time and being unproductive. Resting? Notsomuch.

A Dead Bird in Lake Wobegon

The boys slept late Tuesday morning. Monday nights are Civil Air Patrol nights, and they usually sleep late on Tuesday mornings. But they had been up for a while before I finally dragged myself out of bed. They had already eaten, so I set BB to work on loading the dishwasher and GL on reading while I made my breakfast and coffee. When BB was done, I sent him to take a shower so GL could finish his handwriting before BB needed the table. That's when I discovered GL had colored on my laptop with a permanent marker. Papa Bear was not a happy camper!

Don Aslett's Stainbuster's Bible, which has saved my bacon many, many times, and paid for itself many times over in items it has rescued, wasn't much help at first. It began by saying not to get your hopes up. There's a reason these markers are called permanent. The treatment for felt-tip markers is to start by hoping you were mistaken, and it was only a washable marker. So you start with the treatment for washable marker. The first step is "dry spotter". That's any spray-on stain remover that says it's for greasy stains. That lightened it ever-so-slightly, but wasn't taking out any more no matter how much I applied or how long I scrubbed. So I read the next step: laundry pretreat plus a few drops of ammonia then machine launder in warm water. On my laptop? Not going to happen.

Let's see the next step: treat it as permanent marker. Okaaaay, and that would mean? "Don't get your hopes up, but... rub in Cutter Insect Repellent lotion, wait a few minutes, then rinse with water. Pretest first, and don't use Cutter on Spandex, rayon, acetate, plastic, vinyl, or paint." Great. Just great. My laptop, which I bought this summer, is going to spend the rest of its life looking like it belongs to a twelve-year-old. Why don't I just cover up that marker with some nice skateboarding stickers?

But wait. Don always gives a last-ditch "if that doesn't work" treatment. Usually, if you get that far, the stain isn't coming out anyway. But if it's partly gone this may lighten it some. Or destroy the garment. And for markers, this step was... Sponge with alcohol. Easy enough. Shouldn't damage the plastic. Worth a try, but don't bet the farm. I tried it, and most of the marker wiped right off! A second application removed all but a faint trace--a tiny smudge on the bottom. Don Aslett saves the day again!

GL finished up his work relatively quickly and painlessly, and BB got right down to business, so I had high hopes that despite our late start, we'd have a fairly productive day. We needed one because this was one of only two days this week that we don't have to go somewhere. Even if it's after school hours, leaving the house always puts a damper on productivity for the day. Even a short trip, if it's in the middle of the day, can blow a gaping hole through the middle of our most productive hours.

BB wasn't especially fast, but he was plugging along steadily. While not exactly enjoyable, that's better than his slow days, which are more like beating one's head against a wall, only with less opportunity for short-term reward. GL spent most of the day in his room, watching a Sesame Street DVD.

Then the neighbor kids got home. The younger kids GL befriended this summer. They're not usually here during the week; they come about two weekends a month. GL had to go out and play with them. Fine. But they wanted BB to come out, too. They sent GL to ask him. To his credit, BB said no, he wasn't done with school. When you're in sixth grade, and you don't get started until 10:30, you'll probably still have some work left at 3:00. But  how do you explain that to a six year old who doesn't know anything but public school, and is used to getting his way by nagging? They kept sending GL back in to ask again. Since he doesn't understand who's in charge most of the time, he'll usually do anything anybody asks him, however unreasonable. He saves his rebellion for the reasonable demands of people who actually are in charge. I told GL he could explain that BB had to do his "homework" first, but they weren't buying it. By this time, BB was so frustrated with them, he wouldn't have played with them anyway.

Then they found the bird. They thought it was dead. They poked it with a stick and told (dared?) GL to touch it. MB heard them, and told them and GL to leave it alone. I looked out the window. It was a woodpecker. Probably a Downy or a Hairy. Those are the two we get most often, and I tend to forget which  is bigger. I offered to go out and bury it. I got a spade from the shed and started to dig. "Do you always bury birds?"the older kid, a girl, maybe seven or eight years old, wanted  to know.

"When they're dead, I do." I answered, not mentioning that I'd never found a dead bird since we've lived here. Local animals usually find it first, and don't leave anything to bury. Then I stopped. What if the bird wasn't dead? Birds sometimes crash into our windows. Most of them, and practically all the smaller birds, bounce off the glass, recover in midair, and fly away. Occasionally one will fall to the ground and lie there for a moment, stunned. Since the neighbor with a cat moved out, they generally recover. Was that a breeze stirring its downy feathers, or a slight movement? It was still warm. "Maybe it's not dead. Let's put it over here and if it wakes up, it can fly away later." I found a place off the ground where it could fly away easily if it did in fact wake up, but relatively safe from predators.

The wildlife has been way too bold around here lately. Rabbits let you walk right up to them. They just sit there staring at you and don't run away until you're within three feet of them. Numerous sightings of foxes in town. Not out on the farms and country roads served by our post office, but right in town, where the houses and stores are right next to each other. There's a badger living under the neighbors' shed, and we live right in the middle of town.

Mama Bear left for work. I went inside, washed my hands, and sat down to check my blogs. Near the window, so I could keep an eye on the kids. They decided to hit GL with sticks. He decided to stand there and take it. Since they are about six and eight, and he's thirteen, and they had very small sticks, there wasn't any actual harm, but it was a bad precedent, so I went out and told them, "No hitting people with sticks." They stopped. I went back inside. A few minutes later, GL was chasing them with a stick. Just chasing, not hitting, and they were all having a good time, but you know that's the part someone would see and report. And GL has just enough social skills to dig himself a deeper hole. So I went back out and repeated: "No hitting people with sticks!"

I decided maybe now would be a good time to clean the shed. I'd been meaning to do it anyway, the weather was good, and who knows how much more good weather we'll get this year? And I could keep an eye on things. I decided to start by taking down the tent from the boy's campout  last weekend. I had the poles out and had just started to fold it when BB came out. He had finished his schoolwork, and wanted me to put on a DVD. He's not allowed to change discs because if he does, GL thinks he can, too.

When I came back from changing the DVD, the neighbor kids had gone back in for supper.*

*At least some families still eat supper together. Pre-Autism, we were religious about it. But as GL's sensory sensitivities appeared, there were fewer and fewer foods he could tolerate. So we usually ended up cooking a separate meal for him, which he often didn't eat anyway. With his weight generally low, almost unhealthy, we tried anything we could think of to get him to eat, and offered food any time he might possibly eat it. He still has a limited selection of foods, but he can prepare most of them himself, and maintaining enough weight is no longer a problem. Have you ever sat with a group of people when they're all eating, and you're not? When you're eating, you don't notice it, but when you're not, watching other people eat is really kinda gross. He hasn't sat down and eaten a meal with the rest of us more than a dozen times in the last five years.

Then when Mama Bear went to work, she was on a different schedule than the rest of us, and always eating at a different time. We tried adjusting to her schedule, but it never worked. Then BB started learning to prepare a few of his favorites. So I'm usually cooking for one or at most, two. When it happens that we all eat at the same time, it feels strange. Once recently, we all happened to sit down at the same time and eat the same thing. It was enjoyable, but doubly strange.

 After supper, the neighbor kids got in the car and went somewhere with their dad. They didn't come back until after the boys were in bed. Once the boys were in bed, I went and checked on the woodpecker. It was keepin' on it's back. To quote Mr. Praline: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!! er, woodpecker. Its neck was broken.

Since it was still lying on it's back, I figured I'd get my bird book and have a closer look for a positive ID. It had the long bill of a Hairy Woodpecker, but it was less than 6 inches long--more the size of a Downy Woodpecker. It looked like it was molting. Maybe a juvenile Hairy? But it had a red patch on its throat. The only similar bird I could find with a red throat was the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. Yes, that's the actual name of a real bird. But this bird had no yellow on it that I could see. Looking at the bird book again today, that yellow is rather subtle. I got the spade out again and set to digging.

Our yard has about an inch of topsoil over clay hardpan. Even the flower beds, after years of working, have only an inch and a half to two inches. How do I grow vegetables? Compost. But I wasn't too keen on burying the bird in my vegetable garden or compost pile.

You know what dry weather does to clay. You can tell how much rain we've had lately by how busy our birdbath is. I keep clean water in the birdbath. I've had to fill the birdbath or change the water every day this week. This was going to be a lot more work than I thought. And if I didn't bury deep enough, some animal would dig it up. I ended up throwing it in the dumpster. I didn't feel right about that, either, but I figured it was better than having something dig it up and possibly leave parts of it for GL to find. There's no telling how he'd react. He might be hysterical with grief. Or he might want to carry around some ex-woodpecker parts in his pockets for a souvenir.

I got cleaned up and did some laundry. It's harder to keep up on now because our dryer doesn't work right. It dries just fine, but it doesn't shut off, so you can't throw a load in before you leave the house or when you go to bed. You have to set a timer, and make sure you're there to shut it off. MB got home and wanted to work on her jewelry for a while. It's a relaxing outlet for her, and she makes some beautiful stuff. She's been selling it on and off for about three years. On and off because she doesn't get enough time to make it and keep up with demand. She started with rolling and baking clay beads, but is slowly moving toward more fine jewelry. At least, I think that's what it's called. It's mostly metal and shiny stones. If you haven't seen it recently, you should take a look. I finally got to look at my blogs. We got to bed around midnight, which is not good when she leaves for work at 6:30.

When we finally got to bed, I asked, "Why do I feel like I've been running from the moment I woke up until now, but I can't remember what I did?"

She said, "When I was the stay-at-home parent, I felt that way every day."

And that's the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average.

Possible Posts

I haven't run out of things to say, (Just ask Mama Bear) but from time to time, I come up with ideas that would be too long for one post, and might make a series of posts. For example, when I was planning this year's curriculum, I didn't have time to blog, but thought I might blog later about some of the things we're using. Or this: Occasionally I've come up with shortcuts to keeping the house, dishes, laundry, and children clean. Some of them even work. I've thought of posting some of them here. What do you think? When I come up with these ideas, should I launch into a series? Put up a post or two and see if anyone's interested in hearing more? Post a list of series topics and ask what you'd like to hear about? Just post a snippet when the mood strikes? I'm actually asking for people's opinions before I make up my mind. How often does that happen?

Natural Disasters

One of my favorite bloggers mentioned local flooding recently and said that she hadn't thought about flooding when she moved there.

Hm, maybe I'm odd, but I did consider natural disasters in choosing a place to live. Although I went to college in Texas (hurricanes and tornados) and Missouri, (tornados and earthquakes) my first choice was along the shores of Lake Superior (no natural disasters). Considering other factors, I eventually settled not far from Lake Michigan.

Yes, there are tornados, but our early warning system is especially good, and if you retreat to the basement during a tornado warning, you will generally be safe even if a tornado hits your neighborhood (unlikely) or your house (even more unlikely).

Flooding? Unless Lake Michigan rises twenty feet, an actual flood is impossible. Everything drains toward the Lake. Low-lying areas surrounded by higher areas are prone to flash flooding in unusually heavy and sustained rains. Don't live there. But even those drain in about 24 hours. Drought? Not unless Lake Michigan dries up.

Heat? We only get a week or two of even moderately hot (highs 90 degrees or above) in a year. Ice storms? Well, we get them, but they aren't the disaster here that they are in the South. Why? They happen often enough that weak limbs break off before they get big enough to be a danger to people or power lines. Blizzards and subzero temperatures? Those are natural hazards, not natural disasters. Try to be home when they start, or as soon after as you possibly can. Stay inside during the worst of it, and it won't affect you.

Hurricanes? Tsunamis? Too far inland. Earthquakes? No fault lines for hundreds of miles. Volcanos? You'd have to travel even farther to find one.

It's amazing how much you can get done when you have a big enough project to put off.

Getting Silly Putty out of Clothes

Boys put things in their pockets. If you're persistent, or maybe lucky, they put their clothes in the laundry. They forget to check their pockets. I have a bucket in the laundry room for things I find in the wash--Legos, plastic Knights, ninjas, K'nex, various toy animals, a harmonica, Tinkertoys, hair accessories, (boys aren't the only ones who leave things in their pockets) various wheels, Hot Wheels, a rubber lizard, something that's either a baby dinosaur or a small alien--you name it. Gum and candy wrappers, broken crayons, used Kleenex, and the like go in the trash. Loose change goes in my pocket.

The day before yesterday, I found an empty plastic Silly Putty egg on the floor. No sign of its former contents. Last night, I found the Silly Putty. The good news is that it had wrapped itself in a pair of pajama pants, so it didn't get on anything else. The bad news is that it had wrapped itself in a pair of pajama pants, so I didn't find it until it had been through the dryer.

I've become quite proficient at treating the most common stains we get around here, but this one was new to me. Don Aslett's Stainbuster's Bible is a very present help in time of trouble, but it had nothing on Silly Putty.

I turned, naturally, to the Web. Problem is, everyone seemed to have a different idea about how to remove Silly Putty, and many people warned against the methods others were suggesting. Who do ya trust? Among all these ideas, someone posted a link to Crayola's Stain Tips page. Crayola, formerly known as Binney & Smith, now owns Silly Putty. Select the Category, Product, and Surface, and Crayola will tell you what their laboratory found most effective.

eHow warns that "WD-40 is a much harsher product and can damage some clothing." It worked fine on 100% cotton pajamas. Don't skimp on the rubbing alcohol, though. After two washings, the pajamas still smelled like WD-40. I got the smell out with acetone. eHow also made the following helpful suggestions: Stretch the material taut when you scrape it. Use a butter knife with a serrated edge. Several people suggested putting the garment in the freezer first. This definitely helped with the scraping.

So did it work? Well, the pajamas are no longer sticky, but a coral-pink stain remains. If this were an expensive garment, or had sentimental value, I could probably get all or most of it out with repeated treatments, but this is an old, ratty pair of kid's pajamas, and the stains match the pink lizards. The pajamas were probably worth less than the cost of the chemicals I used on them, to say nothing of the two hours' labor. It would have been more economical, though less instructive, to just throw them away. Call it a learning experience. I'm just glad the Silly Putty didn't spread itself through the whole load.