Thank you... I needed that hope...

We have been through some tough patches around here this Spring.  Often times, it has left me wondering about my generation and, despite knowing better than to generalize, feeling like those of my generation may be failing the world with the me attitudes being given or passed on to children, and the way so many of us seem to live out our dreams through the accomplishments of our children and teaching them to step on others in the conquest of more wins.

My mother reminded me this morning, that the lord doesn't take away without first giving, and if we open our eyes to those gifts, they truly are there. (She is good at smacking me upside the head with perspective that way.)  Even as I was saying my generation had serious issues, knowing she would tell me not to generalize, and remembering someone who recently told me that all generations are flawed in the eyes of the generation before them, Wyatt Clay went out the back door saying it was a good thing I was from a generation from several centuries ago. 

That just might be the first time I take one of his age comments as a compliment.

School doesn't come easy for Wyatt, and he has faced his share of bullies.  Through his different processing, he was blessed with the ability to know which adults are worth trusting, something we call the Wyatt List, and if I would learn to watch who is on it, and the rare case that someone has their Wyatt list privileges removed, I would likely do better int his life.

Bailey has been through some really vicious bullies.  The kind that hurt very deep, and yet have caused her to focus on what is most important.  And through it, some very special people have come forward to patiently guide her, and to accept her into their inner circle.  And she is learning to stand for herself.

At the same time, we have made many special friends with wonderful insight and focus in this crazy life, who have modeled for me the patience and acceptance with strength that I hope to get better at.And we are better learning, after all this time as a military family, to stand together as a team and communicate.  And we are placing our foot down and taking more time to let kids be kids.

So to all those who have given me hope, I thank you,  I guess there is hope for our generation after all.  Maybe we can continue to make a positive difference.  Hugs, you all rock!

Sgt Major

Sergeant Major came to us as a rescue several years ago, right after county fair.  A friend of Charlie's Dad had had a flock abandoned in a rental; he called because he knew the kids were raising chickens, and thought Wyatt Clay would take good care of them.  Charlie and Wyatt, still exhasted from fair, spent three evenings gathering birds.  Sergeant Magor had earned his name for his flashy looks and protective attitude before he ever made it home.  He and his flock of hens and babies came home to a quarantine pen, where they lived until after the monsoon season, when they began to have privileges out in the property during the day.

Sergeant Major has a large number of hens, who generally adore him because of his mellow nature and protector attitude.  He is known for spending a whole feeding time flapping his wings to stop two hens from fighting.  He helped to raise Muffy, the Ameraucauna roo, who has learned to be a gentleman as well, with both roos stepping back during treat times to let the hens have first choice, intervening only to stop other birds trying to sneak in.  He has raised many babies, and when young roos try to be dominant with hens, they take flight and line up behind Sergeant Major for protection.

Undeniably, Sergeant Major has great stock around here as all good guys do.  But we don't even know how old he was when he came to live here, as he already had good sized spurs and has never really moulted here.  So he is not a young guy.  I guess it should come as no surprise that his balance isn't what it used to be, but last night he fell out of a tree- twice.  Worried for him, Wyatt brought him inside where he relaxed on his lap for some time, then Wyatt settled him into a large crate on the back porch in the hopes he would relax for the night.

As soon as first light came, though, he was fussing at the crate, so Wyatt sat him on the back porch with his own food and water and his ladies clucking at him.  He eventually got up and got wandering around.  He doesn't seem quite himself, but not ill either.  He really does seem much better just meandering with his adoring hens, so who are we to complain?

Chicken Man!

Stopped at the mailbox last Friday, hoping to find a package I ordered.  But the package in the mail was for Wyatt, and was he excited!  He opened it to find a chicken head from his Auntie Heather!  He had it on before we got all the way to the house, and opened the gate, then went to feed his chickens while wearing it. I believe he even ran in the house and tackled his Dad in it!

Hopper wasn't so sure about it, especially when he wanted her to play with a dog toy, since she most definitely doesn't play with dog toys since her buddy Remington passed away (even then it was only tug).  But Hopper does love her Wyatt.  Silly Wyatt is having a great time.  His is, after all, Chicken Man Wyatt!

A Best Bud...

I don't spend much time on introductions, though I really should.  In this case, it is the personality coming out in her latter years that brings more laughter to the silly dog who has been with us for over ten years now.  This is Hopper Spark.  She was hit by a car out on the reservation right after I began working there, and she ended up with us while we tried to nurse her back to health.  Whether I simply could not find her rightful owner, or being new out there, looked in all the wrong places, Hopper is still here with us.

When she came home, we had to reset her growing front leg each day after she continually chewed off the bandages.  When I first brought her in, and sat her in the floor to begin pulling off ticks and watching her for shock, I told Callie Jo and Vegas that she was hurt, and just a visitor, and that we would care for her until she went to her home.  The other two helped me look after her, and until Hopper tried to usurp Callie's place with Charlie, there were no cross words between the three.

Once Hopper could get up on her casts, she tried to follow Bailey through the house, wanting to be a kid dog.  She never once chewed on the house, or poddied in it.  Which was good, because Charlie had NOT authorized this new addition.  He was away, and busy in the wake of 9/11, and I was pregnant.  After Wyatt was born, and Hopper was seemingly not very temporary, Callie Jo let Hopper know that Wyatt was hers.  Odd how it works that way, but I could not have found a better best friend for Wyatt Clay.

As Wyatt grew, he went through a time during Charlie's travels for the military in which he stuttered, then did not speak, then slowly began to speak again.  Through it all, his best friend, the one who he would come home and sit with, cuddle with, and first began to talk to again, was Hopper Spark.  According to her, the boy can do no wrong.  He nearly smothered her with hugs, worrie dover her when she got valley fever, wandered the property with her side by side.  If I come home during the day while he is at school, she follows me around grunting at me that I am a bad mama who left Hopper's kid somewhere.

After Wyatt spent a year feeding and giving the neds to the dogs (under supervision, of course), he earned his first chickens.  Hopper wander with him through feedings.  One of her vices- she likes to sneak eggs.  She will gladly steal a favorite nesting spot from a hen if it looks comfy, and knows all the latest hiding spots for eggs.  We have learned to try to remain a step ahead of her!

Aside from snatch the eggs, Hopper's favorite past times are sleeping on all the dog beds stacked together (or falling off them), and hiding shoes.  Some dogs play fetch, Hopper Spark steals the chore shoes from the shelves by the back door, and hides them around the property, with special attention paid to Charlie's- those are filled almost completely with dirt.  When Charlie comes home, she wags her tail at him until he begins walking around finding the shoes, walking behind him wagging her tail.

They have now taken to calling it their game, and I am beginning to think that, as much as we all miss Remington, Charlie is coming to look forward to their little ritual in the game they play while the kids feed their animals and I tend to my greehouse and garden each evening.  Despite the leg that never healed quite right, and her  ongoing health issues, Hopper is still going strong as she gets ready to turn eleven.  She snores loudly, and knocks things with her thumping tail.  And she might not play fetch, but she is training Charlie to.  Gotta love it, and I still couldn't have picked a better best friend for Wyatt Clay.  Thanks again, Callie Jo, and Karma, too.

Good, clean fun...

http://www.team987.com/LVRwebcast2012/live.html

Good, clean, fun...

Got to see my eldest today via USTREAM,  doing the GIANT WAVE courtside at robotics regionals in Las Vegas.  I have to admit, it was a little scary letting her go away to Las Vegas without her Daddy or I, regardless of how I adore the group she is with or the experience that it is.  Funny, though, I really do recognize that this is a part of growing up and taking responsibility, and we are thankful for the positive force this has been in her life.

Crazy, my mother and father have been streaming the USTREAM and cheering the kids on like crazy.  They make it online well before I do, and this morning, while I was speaking with students with issues before class, my phone rang for the first time, my mother excited to be watching them set up.  Care to check it out?  The USTREAM link is above.

I know I post about robotics a lot these days.  Life has been challenging for everyone, and when something so positive seems a saving grace for my own child, I want to share it.  Children are overscheduled, over stressed, over technologied, etc.  I am loving watching her grow, change, and take on new things as her wings spread and her confidence soars.  I hope this for all kids, even if I have to sit with her dog and promise us both that she will be home soon.

They grow up too fast, I am trying to learn to let her, and to remember to be thankful for the blessings.  I am proud of the kids, excited to share the experience via internet with my parents (even if my mother is tutoring me) and I am putting one foot in front of the other.  Walking beside her on the tough days, and cheering her along on these fun ones.  Gulp.  Growing up myself, and learning. 

Here's to good, clean fun in whatever form it takes for you.  Feel free to share your version in the comments, it would be fun!  Oh, and the song of the day- one of my faves...  Check it out...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=26okNVDVRgk

I borrowed the link from youtube, not my upload, or an actual video, but a great listen and a great anthem.  Enjoy the Ride...

Shiloh, 150 years from the battle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=37IybIZNTVw

Growing up in our house, my parents took us on trips to national landmarks and historical sites.  We walked battlefields from the War for Independence, the Freedom Trail, Civil War battlefields, Washington with the cherry blossoms in bloom, Fleet Week and airshows and so much more.  My father's idea of a free Saturday usually included a seemingly indiscriminant pen drop on a map, followed by a drive to a quaint artist colony, museum, or other stop.  It was those big family trips, though, where we walked in the steps of those who built our nation, and where I developed a very distinct pride in the knowledge that in our family, this life was about service.  Members from every generation had served.  There is even a family story about a ship stowaway, found hiding in a barrel part way to America, who felt so strongly about his adopted county that he was involved in the Crossng with General Washington.  Do I know for sure that one is true? Nope.  But I love the story, and one of our cousins has been doing a lot of geneology work to find out.

I grew up knowing that the family bible was the record of birthdays and weddings, and that only one copy was still in existence after the family homestead burned.  The family homestead was in South Eastern Missouri, a border state, and our family had fought on both sides of the Civil War.  Being a good Southern girl was nothing about being closed minded, but about proper manners, the ability to cook, clean, work hard and stand your ground. 

One hundred fifty years ago today, a Sunday, the Union Army, under the leadership of Grant, was doing Sunday chores, washing, shining boots, writing letters, attending services with the chalpain.  A  Rebel Yell broke through the quiet.  In the two days of fighting in the Battle at Shiloh, over twenty four thousand men died on home soil, in close combat.  In the first day, it seemed the South had won, but by the end of the second, they knew the North had won.  But in war, no one really ever wins.

Arlington National Cemetary wouldn't come until the end of the Civil War, the VA would come later as well.  (In the words of President Lincoln, "to care for him who shall have bourne the battle.")  But today, a century and a half after the battle, many who walk this mere four miles square can still feel the spirit of those who fought in a battle so fierce that mere small arms fire felled trees in itself.

Our world will likely always have those whose beliefs lead to conflict, yet we should strive to learn from those who have walked before us.  To commemorate all that has been given for our great nation, including at the Battle of Shiloh, I didn't want today to go without mention of our collective history.  The link above is to a Darryl Worley song, called Shiloh, about the battle.  This was turned into a video by someone else, who used photography overlay, her credit is listed at the end.  Hope you like it.  All the best to you all.

A Country Girl, A High-Tech Team

This week, our Bailey will leave us for the bright lights of the big city- Las Vegas.  On Thursday, the CRUSH robotics team will head out for the Las Vegas regional competition with their robot for this year, Yoshime.  I will worry the whole time- that's what Mamas do- and hopefully get to watch them on the UStream video online from the competition.

Funny thing about this, parents volunteer and support the kids, but this competition is all about what the kids do- what the team can pull together as a team.  What they build, create, fix and follow through on their own, with the watchful safety eye of mentors.  In a world where the parents scream on the sidelines, and compete to live out there dreams through their kids, belittle the competition and forget about the youth learning and having fun, this is youth driven, youth led, and all about fun while working hard.

The sportsmanship and accountability are phenomenal.  When Bailey called home from the last regional in Phoenix, she was excited, happy, saying they had won some and lost some, but that their friends on Plasma were doing great, and worried about a team from another Tucson high school whose robot had not passed inspection to take the floor.  Some of the CRUSH kids had tried to help, but they all wanted the kids to all be able to compete.  They felt so bad that kids could have come through the whole year, travelled all the way to competition, and have to sit and watch.  CRUSH brought home the spirit award, as well as the website award.  And they are so excited for their friends winning in other regionals.

Where else can some little girl with a yard full of goats, dogs and chickens ride her early skills as a welder and machine operator into real skills as a tig welder, machinist, programmer and team leader?  Knowing that she had welding experience led a friend of Bailey's from the drama productions of the year before, one who was this year a senior and a team leader, to suggest extending the freshman invitation for the year to her.  One of Bailey's friends had even stepped in to watch little Wyatt the day it happened, wanting ot make sure Bailey would not miss out while waiting for me to get there for work.  These are the experiences that life is made of.

Many of you have seen my role in this.  Parents provide dinners twice or so during the build season, and I made robot cookies for a big presentation.  And I drive a lot.  And I walk with her in the dark, so she can still work her livestock when she has a late night at school during build season.  Oh, and I think I need to find some blue socks to match the orange ones here, so she can combine them for this longer trip.

Who cares if they win?  Oh, you know we will be rooting them on and cheering like crazy from here.  If it hadn't been so long and so far away, we likely would have gone to scream from the stands.  But in having built this team from the beginning of the year, worked tirelessly and laughed through their video blogs and mishaps, they have already won in the biggest trial of all.  You go, kids.  I am so proud of you all.