Today was a perfect day.

I danced and laughed in the kitchen with each of my children during hymn time.

I helped Brooke and Brad to learn hard new math concepts–without losing my temper.

I caught up with a friend at the park while our children squealed and collected sand in their shoes.

I watched my children ooh and aah over the paintings they recognized in the Linnea in Monet’s Garden dvd.

I made honey pork chops and mashed potatoes for dinner–and my family liked them!

I played and sang Christmas songs with my children, who have beautiful voices.

I gave my husband an extra kiss and hug for taking the girls to dance class, and enjoyed it more than I thought I would.

I read an entire novel, The Christmas List, and cried at the end even though I knew what was coming.

I cannot imagine a day more filled with love and peace. Thank You, Lord, for your mighty love. For showing my heart the things that bring true, lasting joy.

So, your turn. What’s your Perfect Day?

I struggle with dinner. I don’t mind breakfast, which is typically cold cereal, or lunch, which is often some type of sandwich. I suppose I don’t mind those much because my children make their own. But I just can’t seem to muster up excitement about the meal that’s supposed to bring us closer together as a family. I  just can’t stomach preparing the meal that will burn itself into our memories for eternity. The meal that comes at the end of a full day of home schooling, cleaning, errand-running, dog-managing, and trying to find some little piece of quiet for something that brings me peace and joy.

Ugh. Dinner.

A meat and a veggie. Maybe a bread. Sometimes a side salad. And a glass of Country Time Lemonade. Nothing spectacular, but a necessity.

Needing a little inspiration, recenlty I borrowed a dozen cookbooks from the library and found two I really liked. I ordered them on Amazon and they arrived today.

I’ve already chosen next week’s meals! (I sure hope this kind of enthusiasm sticks.) I chose recipes that looked interesting and included meats I have in my freezer.

• Fri: Pizza Night
• Sat: North Woods Wild Rice Soup
• Sun: Leftovers
• Mon: Cranberry Chicken
• Tue: French Steak
• Wed: Honey Pork Chops
• Thu: Penne with Chicken, Broccoli and Cheese

If you know me in real life, hold me accountable. Ask me how my kids liked the soup or the chicken. Make me tell you the details of putting together the meal. Don’t let me snow you.

If you know me from blogland or facebook, comment on here to let me know you’re waiting for an update. Maybe a little peer pressure will help.

For pete’s sake, something has to help…my kids can’t eat many more dinners of homemade waffles or scrambled eggs. And I can’t stand anymore pizza! (Well, except for Friday Pizza Night.)

If I lived in the Castle, I’d start my day with my Bible and a cup of hot tea in this little cubby.

Then I’d join the children for breakfast at our own special table,

where we could look through this arch

into the ballroom and the fire started on chilly mornings.

After schooling, I’d grab a novel and a mug of hot cider and read on this porch

while they traversed the land,

discovering all sorts of special spaces made just for curious children.

Maybe I’d grab my journal and settle into this seat, 

and look up into this.

Maybe I’d invite a friend for tea and chatting here,

and we’d spend our quiet time taking in this view.

On rainy days, I’d encourage the children to explore the wood-lined room under the stairs

while I ran my hands over the smooth wood of the parlor.

If I lived in the Castle, life would be magical for us all.

We spent most of our Saturday in Philly in the Franklin Institute.

We took our time, seeing most every exhibit, having fun touching everything. (And praying we didn’t pick up some virus or the Swine flu!)

We tested the brakes

before we rode on the real steam engine.

We spent plenty of time in the Heart wing.

Here we are making our way through the walk-through heart.

Chuck found out he has

of blood in his body. Interesting.

Brooke has always wanted to be a doctor. She decided to practice a little open heart surgery in preparation  for her future career.

Where else will you get to sit on a bone bench?

Or crawl through a blood vessel?

We made sure to get plenty of exercise to keep our hearts beating strong.

In the space wing we made and tested moon rovers

and watched a really cool movie in the plantarium all about the sun. Perfect preparation for our upcoming solar system study.

We had a BOO-last at the Liquid Scare show. Here the children are all molecules in a solid, packed tight together, being quite still.

I forgot to take photos of our faces at age 70, as seen through an age progression machine. That’s probably better left unphotographed, anyway

I do highly recommend the Institute for lots of science fun.

I made a new friend at the Greater Philadlephia Christian Writers Conference this summer.

She and her husband are missionaries with CLC Publications just outside Philly. She invited me to visit with my family, and I couldn’t resist the offer.

We started our visit with a tour of the U.S. Mint–no photos allowed there. We learned all about how coins are made and actually watched the process happening live. How cool!

Friday night we toured the CLC publishing house. What fun to physically see the Editors’ offices and the old print room–and everything in-between. I asked to see the infamous ”slush pile,” but these days it’s more of an electronic thing.

We spent Saturday in downtown Philly strolling the same cobblestones great men in history walked.

The  line was very long to see the Liberty Bell, so we took our photo with the display at the Visitor’s Center instead, opting to come back on a weekday to see the actual bell.

We spent the majority of the day in the Franklin Institute science museum. (I’ll add another post with those photos soon.)

Sunday we worshiped with our friends and toured the Castle. The castle was my favorite place in Philly.

We had a fantastic time with new friends, in a new place. I hope we can get back there again next autumn.

Poor little Junior Sparks had been struggling to breathe all day. I assured them it would be just fine to put him right into fresh new tap water. I’d done it my whole life. He’d be just fine and he’d be able to breathe.

The next morning, Brooke told me Junior Sparks was sleeping. Oh no. To tell the truth or a story that would buy me time to get a replacement? It didn’t matter what I said–the look on my face was honest. No poker face here.

An apology and acknowledgement that yes, there just might be a pink fish out there somewhere, was enough to quell the tears. Now I know.  No fresh tap water for Junior Sparks Junior.

We’d just sauntered through the park

and were dangling our feet over the edge of the pier when we heard ”plop” and a squeal.

Then we saw it.

The shoe.

Floating away.

Completely out of reach.

[Lone Ranger music]

Then our rescuers rode up the canal.

And one happy little girl went back to collecting leaves.

I don’t typically give the children written “tests” to assess what they’ve learned in home school. Usually I ask them to teach their daddy what they’ve learned, or narrate back what they’ve read. Sometimes I use lapbooks. Here are the kids’ lapbooks for our Rocks and Minerals unit.

Brad:

Brian:

Brooke:

We’ve been to a half dozen farms during Autumn, but none compares to Webers Farm in Parkville. We have so many memories there.

(Like these crazy pumpkin storybook characters)

(And these wild slides)

(These fun bikes)

(And these colorful climbing tires)

This year we went with friends, which is always a good way to go.

Brian found a gazillion feathers for his collection.

The kids loved the upgraded hay maze.

I, the claustrophobe I am, loved the new platform above the maze where I could keep an eye on the little ones while still breathing calmly.

Of course no visit to Webers is complete without a trip to the pumpkin shack.

Webers, we wait with baited breath until next October.

Hubby makes sure he includes the children in home projects. Sure, it would be much easier and quicker to do it himself, but he wants the children to learn for their future benefit. He learned how to fix many things from my own father. He’s grateful for that, but I think he wishes he’d learned from his own father.

He even finds jobs for the littlest ones. I wish you could see the smile on her face.