7 hours ago
Monday, March 28, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
We released our butterflies today. Of the four remaining Pink Ladies (one passed on) two of them flew right out of our hands and headed up up up in a hurry. One flew right to the tree in front of us and the last one flew right to the ground below us. And there they still sit. We have all enjoyed this project and each of us have learned a lot. For example did you know butterflies release a meconium that is a bright red upon emerging from their chrysalids? Or, they taste with their feet? Or, the final measurement of the caterpillar is less than the length of the chrysalid, therefore Eason deduced that they shrink!
I think next we'll try the praying mantis kit.
My favorite quote of the week:
"Hello. Welcome. This dance originated from Bosnia."
-Eason Greene announcing a bit of background information on a performance for Eliot and I.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
"They were very good. I liked them."
The caterpillars all turned to chysallides (quite some time ago, I'm a bit behind on the blogging). They were amazingly beautiful when looked at up close. From a distance they looked a bit drab and dull, but up close they were iridescent with tiny gold dots. They have now all immerged, we managed to miss them all, some it seems by just minutes, but we've enjoyed watching them flutter around the cage and feed on orange slices. I think we'll release them today. Our temperatures are still a bit low, but I think they're coming to the end of their life cycle because one died (Eason wanted me to add in the obvious information I used to draw my conclusion).
We were lucky enough to score this art party (thanks Grandma Jinny) at the Sierra Waldorf Auction. BZ, a professional story-teller/everythingelser put together an art party for us that we hosted to celebrate mid-winter. She read to the kids about Matisse, played some songs and taught them how to make custom prints. She worked a crowd of 12 under 6ers like no body else can.
"I hope we can host another art party just like this one."
I have one child who I have to convince to get his hands a bit dirty and another who thinks nothing of climbing a chicken poop crusted chicken ladder in his pjs. I must admit I have a tougher time relating to the latter.
This was on a day when Eliot refused to come back inside, and refused to wear anything other than pajamas (every day) so I just went back in assuming he'd hurriedly follow me when faced with being outside alone. Nope. He promptly unlocked the coop and crawled inside and I could tell that he'd been awaiting this opportunity for some time.