Trust the Force, Luke (or The Further Adventures of Super Crab and Super Turtle)

Yesterday, I touched a little bit on the creativeness of my kids. They seem to be bursting with it. At this very moment John is writing about Were-Chickens and Faith is sculpting a crocodile and its babies. These are surrounded by squiggly clay strips that represent the borders of Egypt.

This slide show created by John and Lauren is Exhibit A into how their minds work. The pictures are infinitely funnier if you realize that the dog in the first photo is evil and is using The Force (think Starwars here) to control the other animals. If you double click on the photos you will see the captions that accompany this work of art. Enjoy.

Comments

ocean mommy said…

That is so funny! I'll have to let Chad read this one. (He's the Star Wars fanatic at our house and will hold great appreciation for this!)
steph.

June 27, 2007 at 3:12 PM

kittyhox said…

That was so cute I called my husband over to take a look. My favorite shot was the group on the bungees.

What a fun household!

:)

June 27, 2007 at 4:42 PM

Amy said…

Your kids are the bomb!!!! Kiss those cheeks for me!

Amy

June 27, 2007 at 10:55 PM

L.L. Barkat said…

Thanks for making a visit to Seedlings.

These are most precious! I got a good chuckle at the ones up in the lamp and all the animals hanging here and there.

June 30, 2007 at 3:32 PM

Finding Rest: Part Two (Scroll down three posts to read this story from the beginning)

Why share such a personal story ? I share it because I have talked to enough women to know that underneath the makeup and the matching outfits and the small talk that make up our exteriors, we are a broken people. To pretend otherwise creates isolation. Thoughtful honesty creates closer relationships and greater understanding. When we share the way God works in the difficult things of life it encourages first oneself and then others. For some of us, the pieces have been patched and restored and there is wholeness where there was none before. But some of us are walking wounded, barely hanging on and wondering if there is hope. We have a choice. We can either be completely shattered by bitterness, depression and anger or we can lay the fragments before the One who can take the sharp slivers and jagged pieces and create a beautiful, productive life. Here is the conclusion to John's story. When John was ten, he was sullen and moody and difficult and so was I. But I was no longer proud.

4-H Exhibits-Updated

Update: Blue ribbons all around! 4 of our projects will go onto the state fair. John's headboard exceeds size limitations and so we will lug it home tomorrow. We are relieved. That thing is heavy! ************* For the past few weeks we have been busy sewing, sawing, quilling and painting 4-H projects. The kids have been in 4-H for about a month and they started with a bang. The annual 4-H fair is tomorrow. So this morning we loaded these projects and four kids wearing slippers into the car. The fifth one had sense enough to wear flip-flops. (The other four complained as we pulled out of the driveway that their feet were sweating.) John reclining against the headboard that he built with Stuart. He wrote the 10 Commandments of Table Saw Safety to accompany this project. Claire's quilling project. Lauren modeling the apron that she sewed. Lauren and the dog painting she has been working on in art class for the past few months. Faith and her quilling project. So now

Aviary Amphitheater (Wordless? Wednesday)

We're slow starters in the morning. The children lie on the sofas and read. Charlie sits and eats a graham cracker and a bowl of yogurt at the table before breakfast. Lauren and I take turn cooking oatmeal, or muffins, or scones... We eat somewhere between ten and eleven. Today, in the midst of all this leisure, the house became exceptionally quiet and I went to figure out why because "too quiet" is never a good thing. Except that it was today. I peeked out the living room window into the backyard and found five chairs and five children lined up on the patio. I opened the door and everybody shushed me. "Hush, Mama. We're watching the birds. Come sit with us" Six or seven hummingbirds were zipping around the feeder, frantic to fill their little gas tanks before they migrate. The children were silent, heads tipped up, eyes squinting against the morning light. I went in to get the camera. I took a few pictures of the children but could not capture the hyperacti

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