School Projects

Mustachio Bashio

After raising three kids, we experienced many years of school projects. The dogs and I are grateful to be past those days, since the poor pooches often became the victims subjects of study and I struggled to help kids pull these together. Once, Daniel shaved his hair and the dog's to see whose mane would grow back the quickest?

Answer: The dog's, of course; however, fourteen years later, the kid has plenty of hair.

Then there's the time I found a patch of fur missing from the golden retriever's tail.

"What happened to the dog's tail?" I asked.

"I needed fur for the fox on my poster, so I cut it."

Poor silly looking animal! Good thing Erica didn't need something that doesn't grow back.

RIP - You were a perfect subject!

Through the dog's participation, sometimes with free treats, we became better educated. We now know not to buy bottled water for our dogs. We get their water from the good old faucet, even though that's not the favored drink. Serving muddy rain water is the best way to please your pup.

We also learned not to stare at wild horses. You may think you know when someone is looking at you, but you don't. For a third grade science fair project, Judy stared at people for a set amount of time and recorded how many individuals realized she was looking at them. Most humans did not notice; however, animals always knew they were being watched intensely. For a good time, stare at zoo creatures, especially the big baboon. HA!

Judy - Grade 3

Disclaimer: Staring at animals should be done at your own risk. I am not legally liable for broken glass on cages, refunding admission prices once you get kicked out of places, or removing tusks from your backsides as you run from irate zoo animals.

The Writer's Post: Masterpiece

I'm participating in a blog hop hosted by Jenn Duffy Pearson, of the blog wine n chat. The topic and prompt for the hop is masterpiece.

As a child I loved to color, even if I'd never been one to stay in the lines. I'd squeeze the wax between a tiny fist, scribble until tired, and then switch the crayon to the other hand. 

"Your child may not enter kindergarten early because she has not established a hand preference," the experts told my parents. As a result, the adults encouraged me to choose the right hand.  I chose left. It would have been fun to be ambidextrous like President James Garfield. He'd show off his classical education by writing in Greek and Latin at the same time. Hmm. Maybe I could have drawn pictures of Fruit Loops with my left and noses with my right, since I didn't have a classical education.

The Clown in The Attic

Creating art with only my left hand did not hamper my abilities to produce masterpieces. In first grade, my clown picture was chosen, from the entire school district, to be framed and hung in the Bracken Building.

The next year, I drew another picture I liked and asked my art teacher where it was. When she said, "On my desk," I thought nothing of getting it and taking it home. Little did I know, the teacher frantically accused the older kids in the school of taking my picture as she searched everywhere for it. I thought it was okay to take it home, why not? Unfortunately, I ripped it while struggling to put on my coat. Maybe another masterpiece would have ended up in the Bracken Building.

Today, I doodle trees while on the phone. That's about it. My early art talent never took off. As a teen, I took an art class for "fun." Apparently, I had too much fun and my art teacher was not happy. Thus, ended my art career. Shucks!

Wordless Wednesday: Drivers

I'd rather drive with Honey Bear behind the wheel than the lady below.