The pet on our porch

When Jon and I let the dogs out before bedtime last night (that being our bedtime, hours after Calvin's), we found a new inhabitant on our front porch. It was cold last night, and I think most people would have gotten a laugh out of the two of us standing on the front porch in our pajamas, moving this way and that in order to see the mantis move his head to follow us. Hopefully at one o-clock in the morning most of our neighbors were in bed.

This morning the same guy was in the same place. Strange, because mantids are supposed to be masters of disguise, and this one was certainly not hard to spot. He spent most of the day with us, too, disappearing for an hour in the afternoon and returning before dinner (our dinner, that is). I haven't checked on him since but my guess is that he won't stay. There's only so much door opening and staring that one bug can take, after all.

What was cool about him being there morning, noon and night (aside from Calvin getting to see him since we obviously didn't wake him in those chilly wee hours) was getting to see the change in his eyes. Woah! That's a night and day difference! We did a little digging and found very little information, but we did learn that some insects with low light adaptations have a light-absorbing, protective pigment covering for their eyes that they engage in bright light situations. If that's the case, then the pigment takes time to engage, because he didn't respond to the porch light at all in the ten minutes we spent antagonizing him, but during the day he clearly changed something! We also learned that he is mostly a diurnal hunter and was likely just spending the night at our hotel. I wonder if he made reservations for tonight, too.

At the park

Today started out in a rather dragging manner. We woke up, dragged ourselves downstairs, ate breakfast, then realized it was barely past eight. Hmm. Calvin had the piano practiced and several theory worksheets filled in before Jon even left for work, then spent the next hour on map worksheets. He's really into maps right now. We read about Antarctica together, we played with the Legos, we filled in some Antarctica worksheets, and still it wasn't quite noon. And the day was turning out to be beautiful in spite of forecasted rain. So we packed our lunch, a few activities, and Calvin's bike, and headed to the county park.

There is a three mile trail at the park that I like to run. It has no real hills to speak of and much of it is in the shade, plus it's always full of other runners so I feel in good company, but this was the first time I tried running it with Calvin. As his biking confidence has grown so has his speed and I thought we might enjoy the trail together. I still run faster than he does, and it's hard to say whether all the running ahead and doubling back made up for the walking alongside (albeit quickly) or hiding behind upcoming trees, waiting to jump out with a "boo!", but the activity was fun for both of us.

During lunch, which we enjoyed after our trek, we watched a class of university students gather creatures from the river and study them with their TA before returning them to the water. We both loved that example of outdoor learning but I didn't want them to think I was any weirder than I already look so I left the camera in its bag. Sitting on the side taking photographs of young men and women in waders while I fed my kid carrot sticks and a turkey sandwich just didn't seem right. We enjoyed a calming view while doing some math practice sheets, more map sheets, and imagining shapes in the cloud filled sky. And we found Mr. Fuzzy on the way back to the car and I didn't have the same compunction about taking his picture.

Discovery

A gray tree frog, only not so gray. He'd been hanging out in the lillies by our front path, and he changed his suit accordingly. I had not known they did that, but this very well could be the same little guy we've seen repeatedly on our back deck.

Elsewhere in life, we spent the afternoon with the homeschooling group again. I've always needed certain points of navigation in life and having Fridays for gathering is lovely. The group has been meeting in area parks and Calvin has really enjoyed the activity as well as the chance to interact with other kids. For me, aside from meeting some great moms, the social time is an affirmation and also a resource.

Everyone travels through life on their own path and, even when we all end up in the same room, not only did we get there differently, we bring with us a colorful variety of experiences. I sit and chat and soak up all the suggestions and helpful hints I can, and sometimes I even feel like I have something I can share. To hear that other moms go through similar rough spots and frustrations is reassuring, and to be able to get and offer advice can be sanity saving.

Graceful gardens for galavanting

Sometimes, right around the corner, there is a beautiful world just awaiting discovery. I am fully aware that, where we live, we are surrounded by such places that we most definitely should be visiting, and yet somehow we never quite stop in. This is not due to lack of interest, nor to laziness. I think the real culprit is forgetfulness. And I'm sure I'm not the first person to have said "I always forget that's so close" when reminded of things like the historic park to the west of us or the botanical gardens to the east.

It was a friend who suggested the botanical gardens as a place for us to meet with our kids today, and thankfully the palm slap I gave to my head didn't keep us from joining them there. The botanical gardens? Well duh. They've been just 15 minutes away this whole time, but today was our first visit.

Gardens are peaceful and calming

and we love trees and flowers and the bugs that love them.

And then there's the children's garden for running

and getting lost in mazes

and trying out instruments

and teamwork for building

and creating fairy houses

and splashing in water.

Gardens are peaceful and exhilarating and full of a living energy that transfers to all life around them, and if I can remember to do so, we'll be back again in the not-so-distant future.

More on the Matthaei Botanical Gardens

Watching ice melt

We watched ice melt today, our own versions of icebergs and glaciers. The first was an iceberg, one we'd made by almost freezing a cup of red dyed water, that we plopped into a bowl of luke warm tap water. We watched it spin and turn, rather than just calmly float; we watched bubbles escaping from the ice and listened to the sounds they made; we watched the red dyed water seep out into the clear tap water in waves, ultimately blending and leaving all the water red. I think the latter was my favorite observation of that experiment.

The second ice we watched melt today was one of our hand made glacier-like things, only having done the experiment I now think its only redeeming value was the hilarity of wathcing it fall apart. Either the directions in the book of experiments was wrong, or else they weren't well described, because the resulting "glacier simulation" was really nothing of the sort. Yesterday we filled plastic cups with an inch of pebbles and sand, then added water up to two inches and froze the whole concoction. Today we fastened the "glacier" to an inclined plane to watch the melt runoff. Only everything we've read is about how glaciers move down towards the sea, rocks and all, not about how glaciers melt and allow their drippy, rock and sand laden water rivulets run into the ocean. And not that the latter doesn't happen, but I think some of the basic glaciery things that make glaciers glaciers were lost here. Still, watching ice melt sure beats watching paint dry.

Then, because the heat was coming back at the end of the day along with the storms, we met Jon at Hudson Mills metropark for some play time (the two of them playing along the river, me getting a chance to run the trails) before a picnic lunch.

The mushrooms are almost as plentiful as the mosquitos, and a quite a bit more enjoyable.

The workboxes are continuing to serve us well. They feel like a compromise to me, and I guess I can live with that. The rest of our day was a blur of biking, trains, piano, David Attenborough, some math, some art (an Antarctica felt set has been requested), quiet reading time, and ice cream after dinner with Oma and Opa, and it ended with beautiful storms lighting up the night and bringing the cooler air back. That's a good day.