using my room . . .

Having guests and where to put them (a reprint of a comment I left on a blog today)

Years ago we started having all our house guests (and their children if they had them) take OUR room as a guest room. Since the Master was bigger than the rest of the bedrooms, it was large enough for everyone to fit. We put the children on the floor with air beds. The family stayed together. It was really easy for Ildi and I to find a place to sleep since it was our house, and we knew where everything was.

The advantage of having guests in YOUR room is that it is usually prettier than normal (makes it like a hotel stay), there is usually a bathroom attached (people who are staying hate to be in public until they are dressed and ready to be seen), and it makes a quiet place they can retreat to if they want to be away from the common area. For example, if they are sleeping on a sofa bed and others want to watch TV in the same room, it makes them wait to retire for the night.

It seems to be a shift from housing people in guest rooms, to letting people use your room, but once you do it, the benefits outweigh the costs. And besides, when they leave your home, they feel like you have treated them like KINGS AND QUEENS. I still have people tell me they can't believe I let them use MY room.

We have had countless great experiences with people staying with us, and as an example experience I'll briefly tell you one. A friend just visited me a few weeks ago and I showed him to his room. He asked if it was my room and I told him that it was the guest room. He probably did not want to make me or Ildi feel "put out". After he returned home, in a phone conversation, he asked if I had let him sleep in my room. I told him all the benefits of doing what I did, and he agreed that it was a good thing. All this to say, tell them it's the "guest room". Even though it is YOUR room all the other times. :) He was another one that felt "honored" when staying with us.

still on the cob . . .

Our most recent adventure has been shelling popcorn. A couple of weeks ago we noticed the field behind the woods was filled with corn that was left behind from the combine. The children asked if they could "glean" the fields and bring it home. Before this, we had never seen popcorn still on the cob. The corn cob is as long as regular sweet corn, but not as big in diameter. We shelled probably 20 cobs and got a gallon jar FULL of popcorn. This harvest is only one third of what they picked up from the field. The picture shows the children's hands BUSY at work shelling!

note to self . . .

When the ground is frozen, then you have a few warm days, and it rains, don't drive on the grass . . . If the owners did not create a circle driveway through the grass, there was probably a good reason for it!

Today when we were leaving the house, we drove on the grass in our usual fashion. (even though there is no circle driveway) It did not occur to us that the ground would be so wet, and slushy, that our van might not make it through the pretend circle we had been using. Long story short, lots of straw, wood planks, and rocking the van back and forth finally got us out of the rut. One hour later! Not to mention that the wind was a gusting 20 to 30 miles an hour. Notice the towel in my right hand. Looks like I picked up a piece of debris from the ground. And it is sopping wet. And I do not have a belly either. It's the wind catching my shirt. Promise. :)

ornaments of paper . . .

Here is an example of the cards we made for this year. I love making things, and really enjoy including the children's creativity into projects. Here their paintings break the standard "keep everything in the lines" mentality that I have and makes the piece look loose, creative, and beautiful. The children drew and painted the circles with watercolor, then added salt to create a crystallized texture and pattern. I then added the gold paint pen extras to finish the design.

. . . and this is what the tree turned out to be when it was finished. It has that "folk art" look being pieced together. Over the years we have made ornaments out of paper and have kept them to adorn the tree. We mostly recycle old Christmas cards and use them to make "little" pieces of art. We have silver painted pine cones, several shapes of birdhouses made from white cards, geometric balls made from cards, some purchased handmade paper ornaments, and raffia as our garland. A few years ago I made a rustic looking tree skit out of some old green burlap. In addition to making the tree (this year), and the ornaments, we usually make most of the gifts we give as well. I am working on some Family signs for a couple of friends, as well as a "piggy-back massage" tool that I was inspired to do this year. During my Christmas break from teaching, the house usually feels like an elf factory with the amounts of things we have out and are working on.

scratching it out . . .

Here's an example of some of the artwork I have been doing at school. This year, I have been experimenting with various styles and mediums and feel like I am on the brink of making some HUGE changes in not only my students work at school, but also in my own work. This piece is done by drawing with crayons, washing it with ink, then scratching out the design. I had the students do 2 x 2 inch small pieces of work then mount them on larger paper. It is a great project to do, and it is a very limited time commitment.

skimming off the cream . . .

This dial-up has got to go. I just took a small nap while my picture was loading!

Update on some things around the Fout home.

Thanksgiving was a wonderful time spent with family and friends. My brother, sister, and mother came over for our very first Thanksgiving together.

We looked at a house again today. Everything was going well, the house was FULL of character, outbuildings, creek, woods, and it was even snowing making our visit seem unbelievable. When we left I decided to drive down the road opposite the way I came as is my usual habit. You know, look around the neighborhood a bit. Low and behold, a turkey COMPLEX right in the back yard! Of course, not really right in the back yard, but close enough that each spring and summer we would be up to our ears in FACTORY FARM FRESHNESS. And then on a positive note, a home we looked at a few months ago has drastically come down in price. It's an Amish home that needs work . . .bathrooms, plumbing, electricity . . .but is sitting on 21 acres and is in the most beautiful surroundings possible. I am hoping to go see it again now that there is snow on the ground.

The picture above is of a weekly ritual now, the transferring of milk from the container to gallon jars for the refrigerator. Each week we pick up 10 gallons from a Amish family farm. We bring it home, along with twelve dozen eggs, and sometimes other items, and start the process of skimming off some cream for our coffee, and then filling the jars to be stored. The nice part about the weather being cold is that we can use our mudroom as a refrigerator. We can set the milk, or any other item that needs to be chilled, out in the room without any worry of it spoiling. When working with the milk I have developed an efficient system. I dip a half gallon jar into the container and then strain the milk into gallon jars. I think it is God's way of preparing me for when we get our own cow.

And can you notice the small green shell on the table? That was the shell from my first and only shot at a deer this morning. Several of us when out hunting and there was only one deer seen, and one bullet shot. It was my first time hunting and my first time shooting at an animal. Kind-of exciting I might add. A year or two ago I would have never believed I would have been doing this. :)

random acts of thought . . .

This past week I finished the book 1984 written by George Orwell (Eric Blair). Winston, the main character of the story has finally learned to love Big Brother. Certainly not the ending I was expecting. It always fascinates me to read , or in this case listen to, books that are written by people who use pen names. What is it with the pen names? Do people think that their own name doesn't sound fluid enough to sell their stories? Is there a question about the meaning of their name that hinders them from using it in the first place? Whether it is a writer, singer, or actor, it seems that those that use pen names, or stage names, eventually revert to using their given names to credit their work. If they are eventually going to use their given name, why don't they just start out using it in the first place.

In talking about names, I have found it quite interesting that ART is included in my name. G art H is my given name, which means keeper of the garden, and it dawned on me years ago when I started teaching art that it was included in the middle of my name. Of what great magnitude is it that that occurs? None. It is just an interesting detail, among many, that are a part of my life.

We will be celebrating Thanksgiving with my family this year. It will be the first time we will have a Thanksgiving meal together in that most of our lives we lived several thousands of miles away.

too close to home . . .

Winston now finds himself in the middle of a cell, surrounded by others who have been arrested by the Thought Police for crimes against the inner party of Big Brother. His situation, being exacerbated by his recent discovery of his own thoughts and feelings, is a dismal , one-way street to the inevitable vaporization that happens to all who dare to "live" life outside the view of the telescreen.
The telescreen . . . I feel like I too have the telescreen where big brother watches my every move. My actions, words, thoughts, are all scrutinized by big brother. My philosphy, my reasoning, my rationale for teaching is constantly questioned. The overlooking of "Big Brother" has gotten to the point where every action and reaction from me or my students is becoming an exercise in psychology and sociology.
On a lighter note, Saturday morning I am taking the boys hunting for the first time. Deer season is in, I have borrowed a shotgun, we have the licenses, and I went and bought the "hunter safety orange" vests to wear. It should be fun sitting in the woods, quietly, motionless, faintly breathing waiting to see if a deer happens to walk our way. I am a little nervous about what to do with it afterwards though. I am sure I'll figure it out. You know, "I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength . . .

Having grown up in Ohio and attended a somewhat country school system, not much reading was required through my high school years. In fact, the only book I remember being forced to read through was Lord of the Flies in my sophomore year honors English class. (the only year I took an honors class :) In fact, I remember only partially reading it and feeling somewhat lost when we were discussing it in class. (and then there was the term paper that followed. I butchered it.) I am saying this all to admit my failure as a reader in my early days, and have now gained a pleasure for written work and am on a mission to read, or listen to, works that I missed while going to school.

For the past several years, I have had to travel around thirty minutes to get to my work as a teacher. This gave me uninterrupted time to listen to books on tape that I wanted to listen too. I have gone through several of the classic literature novels, and now find myself listening to George Orwell's 1984. OH MY GOODNESS! I am so excited to get in the van and travel to and from work. It is an outrageous story filled with parallel for today's situation, and the narrator uses his voice to literary "paint" the scenes for me to see. In reflection, I am sure that the purpose of the work would have went over my head if I had read it so many years ago, and I am quite glad now that I have the resources, time, and desire to read the work that is considered to be classics in the literary world.

in a safe direction . . .

This past Saturday and Sunday I did something that a few years ago I never would have imagined doing. Let me paint a picture with words.

Eight o'clock Saturday morning, Ildi and the others drop Nolan, Asher, and I off at the McGuffy Conservation Club. Before I get too far, let me go back to the night before . . . I tried to Google to find the address of the place, and I even called 411 information, and there was no record of MCC anywhere in the village of Alger, Ohio. So, I "phoned a friend," and found out the place was right across the road from their house! Back to the picture.

So Ildi drops us off while she and the others go to the Amish to pick up our 10 gallon stainless steel jug of milk (it is like living in the 1950's) and then do some shopping. We walk into the "club" which is set up like a 70's lounge full of deer trophies, Stroble and Budweiser lamps, and card tables. It's early, cold, and everyone looks like they just got up and threw the same clothes on that they wore for the week before. Not to mention the rectangle radiator that hangs from the ceiling! The place looked like it had never seen the light of day. Not even once. So we three sit down at some tables they have set up in the back room for our class. The class you ask? What class? We are to embark on the two day, twelve hour session of the HUNTER SAFETY COURSE required before you get a hunting license in Ohio.

The day, and the following day, was filled with information about gun equipment, gun procedures, safety while using a gun, along with thousands of dollars of guns for us to look at. Hunting stories and hunting experiences also came as part of the class. The first day it seemed we were like fish on bikes. Just didn't seemed to fit in with all the others that were taking the class. However, after a few hours of listening to the men talk, Nolan and I started asking questions and interacting with the instructors. Both men were short, stout, home grown hunters that knew their stuff when it came to hunting. After several questions, and the fact that none of the other participants asked questions, it seemed like a personal class with both men mostly teaching Nolan and I. Asher was trying his hardest to follow along with the fast pace, slightly country accent, and the jumping from book information to side stories.

On Sunday, we met and asked the Game Warden some questions and after a small review, took the 100 question test on gun safety. Both Nolan and I scored above 95 % and and Asher got the chance to retake the ones that he had missed. He and several other younger students had one of the instructors read them the questions and help them to understand what they were asking for. In the end, he got 99 % right.

The part that was really fun for me was what we did after taking the test. Ildi was to pick us up at 2:00, and we finished the test by 1:00, so we were going to be waiting there for an hour until she came. Some of the time was taken up by Asher retaking his test, and during that time, Nolan and I talked with one of the instructors. Come to find out, he was the Mayor of the village. When Asher was finished, we listened to stories they told about hunting, about the club, about growing up and living in the area, and a man even took Asher outside to show him how to shoot targets. One of the men gave me his number and said if I ever wanted to shoot a gun, I could call him and he would meet me at the club with one of his guns. Just a great big bunch of locals enjoying what they do and wanting to share their life (and stories :) with others.

Sunday night I picked up a hunting license for all three of us, and I also bought deer tags for the boys. The dear tags gives them permission to shoot the "bag limit" of deer for the year. For those of you who are not familiar with hunting . . .maybe you can sign up for the Hunter Safety Course so you will be in the know with terms like "bag limit." :)