The Chicken or the Egg?

I have written before about how amazing and practical Aliana is. Check the archives for March 2008. I have further proof to offer today. She has solved the ancient question: which came first, the chicken or the egg?

She tells me that there was first a chicken, then an egg. She has a logical argument to back it up. I love classical homeschooling.

Her reasoning is based evolutionary theory. She imagines that there were birds pecking around in the jungles of Asia that were very chicken-like, the ancestors of today's domestic poultry. One day one of these extremely chickenish jungle hens mated with an all white-meat rooster. An egg was laid. It hatched. Out came chicken numero uno. This chick had enough of the features of what we call chickens to be so called. Since then we have had chickens. Yum.

Zo, zee znailz.....

We ate 'em! First we starved them for a couple of days, then we plunked the lot in boiling water for a minute. Once out of the bath they slipped easily out of their shells. We sauteed them with homegrown garlic and butter and then...












Aliana chowed down! Isidore and Elizabeth decided not to partake, but Aliana loved them. She is a big fan of clams and mussels, and we all agreed they taste just like clams. We will be collecting more next week to make a main dish meal with pasta.

Friday

Why we should all be like Aliana

My oldest child is the most practical person I have ever known. She prefers the most direct way to accomplish any task, even if it’s more difficult, nobody else does it that way, or she looks silly doing it. She also really takes advice to heart. It doesn’t generally occur to her to ask for it, but if someone points out a way she can improve whatever she is doing, she tries it out.

She has been working on drawings of dragons and other strange creatures that her Nonna is going to make into a quilt. I noticed that the work wasn’t her best and made some suggestions about how she could use the direction of her strokes to create realistic texture. Like I actually know anything about drawing- give me a camera, thank you very much. But she listened to me and then dove into a pile of paper and crayons and came out the next day with a dozen gorgeous drawings.

I am very proud of her for her effort, but what really stands out to me is what she didn’t do. I imagine what I might have said to her had she taken it upon herself to critique a lousy meal I set in front of her for dinner. I have to confess it probably wouldn’t have been so polite. I might have defended my gummy rice and overcooked broccoli as acceptable, made an excuse about having a long day, or perhaps found something to criticize about her in return. I’m pretty sure most of us wouldn’t have behaved as she did upon receiving unsolicited advice.

She thanked me for my help and went to work.

I’m going to try that next time.

The Zoo

Last week our intrepid friend Donna took all three kids to the San Francisco Zoo. They all really wanted to see the newborn giraffe. Unfortunately the mother wouldn't nurse, so they weren't able to see the baby. As you can see in the pictures, though, our dear Aliana had a very special moment with daddy giraffe. She fed him several bananas with her hands, and then the handler suggested she try something a little different.

I must say I personally would not have said yes, but our tallest child is definately a friend of animalkind. Whenever a chicken needs to be caught for wing clipping or dinner she actually becomes a member of the flock. She bends over, uses her arms as wings and begins to speak chicken. I swear. She imitates their happy little clucks and peeps and assures them that she's just a slightly larger breed, and then just scoops one up by the feet and presents it to me proudly.

One morning several years ago I was brushing my teeth when Aliana appeared at the bathroom door with a quart size mason jar in her hand.

"Bellemere?" she said.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Um, I have a wound."

"What happened?"

"A gopher bit me."

I swallowed my toothpaste and at that point noticed that there was actually a very large live rodent in the jar, and a lot of blood on Aliana'a other hand.

I took the jar from her, covered it with a heavy book and called Donna of the zoo trip, who's a nurse.

After the wound was cleaned and the gopher disposed of I was able to ask Aliana how exactly she came to have a gopher bite.

It turns out it was actually in my defense. Before you imagine a rabid gopher throwing himself against the front door, let me explain.

She was collecting interesting bugs in the vegetable garden and saw Mr. Gopher pop his near-sighted little head out of his hole. She immediately thought of how much I love my garden and the damage he might do. She decided the thing to do would be to pick up him up and stuff him in the jar she was holding to get him out of the garden. He didn't like the plan as much as she did, and he chomped her.

This is the detail that gets me: She didn't let go. She screamed and then continued to cram him the in jar.

Aliana, the girl who is often more animal than person.

Math in the afternoon