The Mechanical Cardinal

Dollar store shopping on a Sunday night.

Couple in front of me has 25 items.  Girl-who-scans makes short work of the order, skillfully turning each barcode to the laser as though she had been born to the task. The last item is a little mechanical cardinal. The wife hesitates, holding it back.

Husband says, "She buys one every year, but they never work. Can you open it and show us how to turn it on?"

Girl-who-scans-so-well tries and fails to open the package.

"I'll do it with my teeth!" declares Husband. He applies his incisors and opens the package, then tips the bird into her hand.

Girl-who-scans-so-well-but-cannot-open-a-wrapper, who has never taken notice of the item (or any other item in fact) before, says, "You just pull this tab," as she pulls. The bird remains as still as it had been while lodged in suffocating cellophane.

"Go get another one," says Husband  to the wife.  She toddles off to the opposite end of the store, and returns shortly with another bird.  Husband releases the new bird from its plastic prison.

Girl-who-scans-so-well-and-remains-undaunted-though-she-cannot-open-a-wrapper tries again.  She breaks the bird, yet the bird ekes out a series of tortured tweets. The couple is delighted by the newly audible cardinal, but they want an intact one.

The folks in the growing line look on in awe as the wife toddles off to get yet another bird. This one is dropped unceremoniously into the shopping bag by the wife.  They pay and leave. Girl-who-scans-so-well-but-who-cannot-open-wrappers-and-breaks-birds resumes scanning. So, well.

Reading The Emperor and the Nightingale  this evening by the fire.

Deeper Nature Study: Stalking Bacteria in the Wild Part 1

Nature study is the core of many a homeschooler's science studies.  Nature study for the younger set is often simple and un-directed; the children find what they can find and bring it to Mother for examination, or home to observe and preserve.  The child and parent try to identify specimens, and often learn how to use a field guide together.  It's fun and informative for the younger children, but what about older kids?  Just as highschoolers can benefit from intensive copywork using great books and technical articles, so a high school student can get laboratory credit for nature study that is specific and directed towards a more quantitative goal.

This year, I chose a few victims (I mean students, of course) to try out an addition to our biology curriculum using more advanced living books.  This is the first in a short series of blogs on "Deeper Nature Study."

A few years ago, I came across a terrific book called A Field Guide to the Bacteria by Betsey Dexter Dyer.   Dyer is a biology professor at Wheaton College in Massachusetts, and has recorded a Modern
Scholars lecture series on this same topic called Unseen Diversity, which is top-notch and available from Audible.  Both are fine alone, but combined they make a formidable mini-course in bacteriology that is easily used by homeschoolers.  You will be relieved to hear that Prof. Dyer suggests that we not grow things in petrie dishes in our kitchens, so we won't; instead, we take our search outside.  In the wild, we have been able to discover evidence of bacteria everywhere.  And we are only 1/3 the way through the outdoor portion of the course.

The best thing about this short series of hikes is that it can be done anywhere, almost any time, with little modification.  Since bacteria are plentiful everywhere, and very few are pathogens, it's a safe and nearly fail-proof study.  You can study bacteria where you are, because they are there, too.

We began with a brief lecture on different kinds of bacteria, and the environments in which each thrives.  A quick version--cold, temperate, and hot are three measurable but wide temperature ranges for bacterial growth (one can get way more specific, and we did, but I don't really want to write out the entire lecture, and Prof. Dyer does it in more depth).   pH is another variable for determining the types of bacteria we are likely to discover.  The third environment we are exploring varies in oxygen content.  We could also add salt, and more, but these are the basics.  After my brief lecture we went outside and found some regular every-day common clover to examine.  We dug up the roots to find nodules of nitrogen-fixing bacteria in the root system.  These are terribly EASY to find!  We found some lichen, that combination of fungus and bacteria that grows so well on rocks and tree trunks.  And we found some cyanobacteria growing in patches large enough to identify by color alone.  Then we hopped into the car and took a quick field trip to the local Quaker cemetery, where the old tombstones yielded more evidence of bacteria at work.  And that was day 1!  NB:  It is very difficult to pry teens out of graveyards...go figure.

Day 2 brought us to a local swamp, where quick running water, deep muck, and hard trails all had perfectly detectable bacteria for our viewing--and sometimes smelling--pleasure:

The light leaf litter smells fresh even though it is full of bacteria.

Miss A. is encouraged to take a deeper sample...it will have a different odor.

Right along the trail are worm castings, full of bacteria fresh from  the gut of  worms.  Slugs approve.

Intrepid Miss B. strives for the best sampling spots, mid swamp!

OK.  Crossing the swamp by log is just fun for Miss B., Miss C.,  and A.

Slow, clear water reveals a nice bacterial mat, with large air bubbles!

Miss C. discovered that the faster running water was cold.

Yet, who could resist? Neither P nor Miss B.

Bubbly beer-like bacteria!!

Ha-ha!  Miss M. captures millions of bacteria.

Tempting...but no, she didn't.  ;)

Next stop?  The salt marsh...

Yes, it is YOUR Homework, Too

I have a great religion class this year!  There are 6 students in my 4th grade; each is a very interesting person, and each is interested in the class.  Today we discussed posture at Mass (and viewed the very fun That Catholic Show video Sit, Stand, and Kneel).  The students know what posture is appropriate for each part of the Mass, so that was an easy part of the class.  We discussed what happens during each part of the Mass, and even touched on the Real Presence.  A discussion of sin and forgiveness followed, providing the first entry on our Old Testament timeline.

Each week, in addition to the main lesson, we begin the class by writing the psalm verse for the upcoming Sunday.  This gives the students who arrive early something to do while waiting for the latecomers, and gives them all the answer to one question on the homework.

Ah...the homework.  For the past few years I have been using the Mass worksheets from CatholicMom.com.  For the mostly 9-year-olds in the class, I use the worksheets for the 7-10 year old level.

Those of you who know me, STOP laughing...it's true that I hate worksheets, but they work for this classroom format.  And the worksheets are easier to complete if the children go to Mass.  The worksheets are very easy, and the kids enjoy them.

And no parent has ever complained.  Until today.

She caught me in the parking lot, this Disgruntled Mother (she told me on the first day that she pulled her kids out of the last CCD program because the people were "snooty" so I guess I have to be non-snooty if I want to keep her kids in the program).  The conversation went something like this:

Disgruntled mom:  Do they still have to do those worksheets with the stuff from Mass?
Me:  Yes.  That is the format of the homework every week.  The answers are all found at Mass...
DM:  Well, we missed Mass this week (I stopped listening there...the kids had told me the reason).  So I had to look up the answers.
What snooty-me wanted to say:  There are 5 Catholic churches within a mile of ours.  Our own parish offers 8 Masses every weekend.  You could not make any of them?
What I actually said:  The answers are also online on the USCCB website, in case you miss Mass.
DM:  Well this is becoming MY homework, not theirs.
What snooty-me wanted to say:  Yes, and so it should be, if you need a refresher!
What I actually said (laughing in the nicest way):   Yeah, but it's not that hard for the kids once they get in the habit of...
DM:  Is it OK if I take a missal home from Mass?  The priest won't mind?
Me:  I'm sure he'd be happy to know you were taking a second look at the readings!  So, have a good week!

Ack.

Ma'am, I'm Going to Have to See Your Apples

So, T was driving when we arrived in California.  Up ahead of us we saw a road block...immigration check, we wonder?  No.  It's the food police.  Seriously.  The California Dept. of Ag. was stopping every car coming in on I40 and asking if there are fruit or vegetables in the car.

"Where are you coming from today?" the Ag. officer asked.
"New York," I replied cheerfully.  I did not feel cheerful.  I thought he was going to ask for all our I.D.s to make sure we were citizens.  Or something.

"That's a long haul," he said with all the bureaucratic charm he could muster.

"Yes!"

"Ma'am, this is an agricultural stop.  Do you have any fruits or vegetables in your vehicle?"

I stared wide-eyed.  They stopped me for this?  "Um...I have some apples in the cooler."

"Ma'am, I'm Going to Have to See Your Apples."

Could my bleary, sleep-deprived eyes grown any wider, they would have.  I hopped, or, rather, stiffly lurched, out of the car, opened the back, and took a half-empty bag of golden delicious apples out of the cooler.  One fell out of the bag and rolled away.  The nice Ag guy watched as the apple rolled towards him, and looked up at me.  I felt as though I had just dropped a bit of contraband.  In fact, I have never felt so guilty about apples.

"Those appear to be Washington State apples, Ma'am.  Those are fine."

I was so relieved as he confirmed his guess by looking at the label on the bag.  Yes.  I had returned the apples 3000 miles to the west coast.  He continued.  Really.

"Ma'am, just for future information, we want you to know that we encourage you to eat fruits and vegetables."  More relief.

"Just so you know, you cannot bring certain fruits into the state of California.  Those fruits include blueberries and strawberries."  I gave him a funny glance. "I mean, blueberries and cherries, not strawberries.  Strawberries are fine."

My normally scientific brain, having rigorously read the road for nearly 3000 miles, turned completely off as he freely offered an explanation.  All I heard next was "Blah blah fruit flies blah blah inspection blah blah."

"OK," I said, "that's good to know."

"And Ma'am," Would this never end?  "If you bring apples into California again, just slice them.  We will not require inspection if you have cut them up into small slices and put them in a zip-lock bag."

I blinked like an idiot.  Several times.

"OK," I said again.  Gosh, what else could I have said?  I mean, here the guy was telling me that I could have avoided all this trouble had I only pre-processed my fruit?  Really?  And next time, if stopped, I could claim my apples were sliced, and drive right on through?  Could this be real, or was it all an odd dream devised by my sleep-deprived brain?  No.  L and T confirmed that it actually occurred.  In fact, L said it was all she could do to keep herself from laughing at the way I stared at the Ag guy.

"Ma'am, may I assume you don't want the dropped apple?"

"Yeah, no."  I left the apple.  He set it on the table next to the pile of potential paperwork he had set up for unsuspecting blueberry smugglers.  I got back in the car, and T pulled carefully away from the Dept. of Ag. stop.

********************

Want more apple stories?  Try some Apple Books, just for fun (Amazon affiliate link; no slicing necessary).

Taste Test: Civet Cat Coffee

Gossiping Girls Gone Good

I dared not look directly at them as we were seated in the last available table in the restaurant, but there in the corner next to us was a table full of  giggling teen girls.  We were in one of those Long Island towns known for mansions, parties, luxury cars, and wealthy, idle teens.  The girls were loud; one could not help but overhear the conversation.  I braced my self for the usual screechy rants about who was sleeping with whom, every word interspersed with "like" or worse, and for finding out just what a "b****" Tiffany was.

But I could not help laughing out loud when the first offensive party I heard (one could not help but overhear, did I mention that?) described was "the worst person in the world" because she didn't own a library card.   It seems that the victim of this rich gossip had outstanding fines at several local libraries, and thus had been banned.

In fact, that was about the worst of the conversation.  When the girls walked by us as they were leaving, after making plans to go to a friend's house, I saw that they were not in the typical clothes that one might expect on a warm Friday night in the north shore suburbs...they were in lovely spring dresses with pretty sweaters. They was really quite a sweet group and they were clearly having fun without resorting to the vapid vitriol of the typical teen outing.  

Update:  Contrast this with an observation from the "Why do We let them Dress Like That?" in the WSJ.

Why We Chose Music Over Dance

Sure, we did ballet...but even the ballet students around here perform in the end-of-the-year show with programs like this:

These girls are 7. 7!! What dance school owner, what choreographer, what parent, would allow this?

Altered Service?

When our boys were training for altar service, they would routinely show up at Mass and ask Father if they should serve. After a bit, Father told them not to ask, but to tell him that they were ready to serve. Since our parish does not have many servers (and no sign-up sheets), and there are 8 Masses from Saturday to Sunday, this works well.

As homeschoolers, or during the summer, the boys sometimes serve at funerals at our parish, or at the parishes of friends. Recently, at a funeral for the father of a family friend, the boys arrived with cassocks and surplices in hand in case they were needed, but were told that there were already servers; this was unusual, but not unheard of. Assuming that there were other servers at the parish who had volunteered, the boys put everything back in the car, came back in, and sat with the congregation. In came the priest and the pall-bearers, and a woman with a plastic name badge holding the holy water and aspergillum for the priest. She proceeded to take on all the tasks usually reserved for the servers. In fact, there were no other altar servers. The boys were a bit stunned.

Is this typical at some parishes these days?

So Bad, in So Many Ways

Politics aside...

Where is Gareth Malone when you need him?

As You Like It--Full Cast

Taking Bets on Notre Dame (Re: Laetare)

So...now that Mary Ann Glendon has graciously declined the Laetare Medal, to whom will Fr. Jenkins turn? NRO 's guess is Biden; The Curt Jester reluctantly mentions Kmiec, with tongue firmly in cheek, I imagine. Well, either of those would show us...right?

Anyone else care to speculate?

The Easter Budgie

It was about 8 years ago, on a cold, snowy autumn day, when we finally caught the little parakeet that had been at our feeder with a flock of sparrows for two weeks. We put up signs, but no one claimed her, so we named her "Flappy," and she has been our birdy buddy ever since. She outlived the mate we bought for her by two years (so far), but had never laid a single egg. Today, I saw her on the bottom of the cage, and feared the worst: Budgie's don't live for long, and we did not know how old she was when we found her. Instead of dying, however, she surprised us by hissing protectively over a clutch of three tiny translucent eggs. Will wonders never cease?

When we first captured her, Trip honored her with a poem...I can only remember this part: "Her name is Flappy, and I can't see a minute when she ain't!" The name still suits her.

Probitas?

Is it just me?

We were sitting in the audience at Trip's school, watching Les Mis, and the girls behind us kept chatting. During intermission, my mother turned and asked them to please stop. Instead of apologizing, they denied that they had been talking during the performance.

I recall a laboratory class I was teaching once: One student was chewing on the end of her hair, and I asked her to stop, reminding her that there were things in that lab she might not wish to ingest accidentally. She became indignant, denying that she ever chewed on her hair.

More recently, some kids threw a snowball at my car (hey, kids do stupid things without thinking...). I stopped, and they all ran away, except for two girls who stood there and said (as their mother came out of the house) that no one had thrown any snowballs.

In Annika's German class, some kids use their cell phones to cheat, by "texting" or accessing the internet. One boy, she tells me, blatantly leaves his book open during tests. She confronted him, asking how he justified cheating, but he said he only did it at German school, not real school.

Trip tells me that kids in his class cheat "all the time."

At the University of Notre Dame, the president claims to have invited Mr. Obama to give the commencement speech for the sake of "dialogue." Does anyone believe that?

Do liars and cheats really think they are getting away with something? Probably. Why not? If we take a long look at public figures who have been caught cheating and telling lies, people like Biden (plagerism), Kennedy (cheating), Dodd (utter nonsence), Sebelius (pro-choice but anti-abortion--gimme a break), we can see a pattern dishonesty in the public attitude of these politicians. Without examples of honesty from the people who are constantly paraded before us in the news, and without a free press to call them on their lies, what hope is there for the young people who are told in one moment that they ought to be honest, and in the next that there is no absolute truth? In a world where you can be both "anti-abortion and pro-choice" is there ever any reason to to take an moral stand on honesty?

The dishonest have their own apologists out there backing them up: In an outrageous example of the problem of improbity, one blogger points out that Catholic honesty is lacking by pointing to supposed distortions by devout Catholics. This in itself is dishonest, as the author makes excuses for policies endorsed, individuals nominated, and ideas promulgated by the current administration. You see, though the president may have overturned the Mexico City Policy, there are other pieces of legislation in place (Helms Amendment) that prevent (for now) any federal money being used for overseas abortions. Furthermore, Gov. Sebelius' connections to Tiller are not "all that close" so we don't have to worry. And the Dickey-Wicker Amendment is a roadblock (for now) to the president's embryonic stem cell policy, so we should all be honest about what the president is really doing (Nothing! We may all breath easily!) . When devout Catholics shout about the president being pro-abortion, they are being dishonest, according to this blogger; the president must be pro-life, since his anti-life policies are all null, and we pro-lifers should all be more honest.

Yeah, right.

There Were No Vampires

...when I was a student there.

As I recall, there were bombthreats, forced busing and all that sort of thing. But no vampires. Sheesh.

Video: Undersea Volcano Erupts at Surface

Animated Flight Path from LGA to Hudson River

H/T: American Thinker

Tales of Five Mothers

(on a borrowed computer, that has its own problems...like no cooling fan, so this is not a permanent solution).

As mothers we want what's best for our children, but this story about the baby without the gene for breast cancer has been nagging at me. This mother, in an effort to save her child (and future generations) from a particular affliction, chose to have a cancer-free embryo selected in vitro, rather than risk the possibility of conceiving a child who might have the gene, and thus develop this cancer. Putting aside the obvious ethical issues involved in this sort of procedure, isn't there a familiar ring to this story? Haven't we heard stories about mothers trying to protect their children from harm by extraordinary means, and doesn't it always go terribly wrong?

Consider Thetis, a nymph from Greek mythology and mother of epic hero Achilles, who dips her young son in the River Styx to render him immortal. Scholars of mythology will recall that Thetis holds young Achilles by the heel, so only through his heel can he be mortally wounded. And so he is.

Those who enjoy Norse myths will recall a similar tale, that of Baldur the Beautiful, whose mother Frigg, goddess of motherhood and fertility, extracts an oath from every thing on earth--living and inanimate--to bring no harm to her son. But Frigg overlooks the small mistletoe, and by mistletoe is Baldur's death accomplished.

A more recent tale is that of the Sleeping Beauty, whose parents believe they can prevent harm coming to their daughter by selecting their christening guests with care. Of course, the uninvited guest shows up to curse the baby, and we know the rest of the story.

Yes, these are all myths, but each myth tells us something about ourselves. All mothers want to keep their children from harm, and most will go to extraordinary measures to keep their children safe. But we cannot save them from everything, all the time; if we try, we are frustrated again and again. Someday, each child will have to face tragedy and death; that is part of our human existence. The question is, how far should we go? We do not encourage our children to engage in dangerous activities, but should we be tinkering with their genes?

No doubt, breast cancer is tragic. I lost a friend to an aggressive form of that cancer. She left behind a husband, two young daughters, a sister and her parents. There was no history of breast cancer in her family. It happened anyway. The genetically selected baby may also suffer in ways that her parents can neither predict nor prevent. We all hope that she thrives, but no one can promise anything.

Oh, yes. The fifth mother, the Blessed Mother, endured the suffering of her Son. I wonder if she considered doing anything differently when she heard the prophesy of Simeon...

Role Models: A Poll

Looking for a science role model? Her's a brief discussion at Sci Guy (H/T American Spectator):

"Based again on everything you have seen, read or heard, who would you say are the science role models for the youth of today in America?

Most comments were general (i.e. "Teachers," 9 percent, or "Astronauts," 5 percent)... "

Sci Guy has results and comments.

And yes, Bill Nye is on the list, but not Neil deGrasse Tyson. I mention both together because they were featured together in a recent episode of Stargate Atlantis.

Sea Kittens? Yum!

What's a sea kitten? It's part of PETA's new anti-fishing campaign aimed at children. Change the language to reflect a more cuddly attitude towards fish, and you'll stop the slaughter. Or something like that. Hey, maybe we ought to call unborn babies "womb-kittens." (H/T TEH Resistance [not a blog for children]) Yeah.

Frankly, a sea kitten sounds like what one might call a young catfish.

I interned at a wildlife refuge right after college. Most of the people I worked with were very nice, but a few were PETA-nutty. One introduced me to her cat "PETA." I told her that I had a dog named "PITA." She told me that her cat's name stood for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. I told her that my dog's name stood for Pain in the A... Erm. Yes.

Another refuge worker would only eat eggs if they were laid by her own personal chicken, which ran wild around the property. Fine. Then a rooster was dropped off at the refuge, and she stopped eating the eggs her chicken laid just in case...[wait for it]... they were fertile. And it was not because she was squeamish about the tiny cell cluster on the yolk, but because of a pro-animal life ideal. Seriously.

Then there was the woman who explained to me that she was a vegetarian but her pets were not, so ethically, she had to feed them meat. So it's OK to kill animals if you are going to feed them to other animals, but not if you are going to feed them to humans. Oh, and it's OK to keep animals as pets.

And then there was the rescued fox kit, who was taught to hunt by exposure to (no doubt) terrified store-bought hamsters and gerbils. Purchasing animals for food could be expensive, though, so to keep the refuge going, many food items, especially those big bags of frozen white mice, were donated by research laboratories.

I could go on...in my month-long internship I heard many anecdotes and opinions that would make great stories, though the people who actually ran the place, and most of my fellow interns, were pretty reasonable. But all this talk of sea kittens is making me hungry. And PETA, if you are out there (and you are out there, aren't you?), please know that my kids have asked for "sea kitten and chips" for dinner. Yum. Pass the malt vinegar.

ETA: Another strange version of this story.



Create Your Own Sea Kitten at peta.org!

Is Britain Becoming Ember?

File under strange but true: it seems that there is a veritable panic amongst Brits over fast dwindling stocks of traditional 100W incandescent lightbulbs.

Read the rest.