I'm bummed that we're not getting more snow. I'm jealous of DC. I know not a lot of people who are actually living there can understand this, but I love snow, the more the better, and as long as we have power, I'm just rather happy. This week has been just plain confusing--to cancel classes if local school districts do, or not? To make up missed classes, or not? When? I've already made some other plans for some of our "breaks" that were already scheduled, so I have to think long and hard about taking them up now. Tomorrow there's a vague chance we could get ice on roads, so who knows what Chesterfield will decide come morning. I love their 5:30 a.m. robo-calls. I guess we're on the list because Rutledge goes to SpongeBob School.

We are working hard at finishing "The Loud Silence of Francine Moon" before tomorrow, and we're poised for a morning completion, with only 35 pages or so to go. It has been enlightening and has generated a lot of good discussion, though it certainly isn't for readers much younger than we are. Probably the ideal reader would be 13 or so--a little closer to the age of the protagonist--the questions of rebellion, the suicide, the strained parent-child relations make this a true YA novel, but I'm eating it up, and the historical and political context is one that we needed to open up anyway. My kids didn't come in with a lot of political or cultural savvy--don't really understand the variety of what is referred to in terms like "liberal" and "conservative," only know but so much about political repression, don't know about the regular functions of many government agencies, don't always have a full timeline of 20th century events.

We also finished "Sarah Whitcher's Story" this morning. And a William Wegman "Little Red Riding Hood" and a very short chapter book about penguins and two books about bears in North America.

I'm also on this poetry memorization kick. I personally haven't memorized much myself and generally lament my horrible memory, but I do believe there are real benefits to having a little storehouse of poems in your head that will always stay with you. To that end, I've had everybody but Rutledge memorize Blake's "To See a World" and now "In Flanders' Fields" (does it have an apostrophe?). We've been cycling through them each day, and I'll add a new one when this one is pretty down pat.

Walter and Rutledge got haircuts today. Much needed. And baths. Much needed.

We made our reservations for Great Wolf Lodge for next month. And I got two new fish today, which I hope are doing okay down with our meanies. The fish store guy suggested putting in more than one, turning out the lights when the new ones come in so that they all get the signal to "go to bed," and feeding them all right away. So we have a new yellow tang and a coral beauty angelfish, which is a type we've never had before. He seems very personable--and he and the tang came from the same tank and seem to be good friends, hiding behind the rocks together for now. I could tell the coral beauty really wanted to come out and taste some of the food, but he was too afraid to do it without the tang's permission, and the tang wasn't giving it. I hope they emerge a bit more tomorrow. It was a chunk of change, though. Cha-ching. I hope they don't croak as quickly as our last ones. Since we had our protein skimmer fixed this week, hopefully we'll have fewer problems.

I'm tired of my messy bedroom. It's supposed to be a sanctuary, but it looks like a schoolroom has exploded in here. Portable whiteboards, big people books, little people books, American Girl doll beauty shop chairs, photos of former President Bush's dog, a toy safe with a ringing alarm, inside-out size 110 European pajamas, drinks, bottles of No-More-Tangles, library books, snowman crafts from preschool, a knitting project no further than the cast-on stage, four towels, a mancala game, and three decks of oval playing cards, all mixed up and probably all a little short of 52. Sigh.