Hiking with children takes some extra planning to anticipate what you'll need on the trail. Add a large dog (or two) into the mix and you'll discover, as we did, that the combination becomes a test of organizational skills in packing and a go-with-the-flow type of attitude for the adventure.
We are not dog owners, but the girls were dog-sitting for friends and decided to take their two furry charges on a hike with us to Wolfe's Neck Woods State Park in Freeport (Maine state parks, with only a few exceptions, are pet-friendly).
At 11 and 13 years old, the girls are well versed in organizing their backpacks for a hike, but they figured out quickly that a few hours with a couple of large dogs was really going to weigh them down. In addition to their usual binoculars, water bottle and snacks, they had to pack a large water dish (with a towel to keep their packs dry after the dish was used), a couple of extra water bottles, doggie treats and poop pickup bags. But my 13-year-old, the driving force behind taking the dogs hiking, took the heavier load of water without complaint.
Once we arrived at the park, everyone had to use the bathroom (an amenity we appreciate about state parks) before we started on the trail. The girls led the dogs to a spot to take care of business as well. They were grateful that the dogs only peed, but it wasn't two minutes on the trail before the messier business came along.
That's when a debate ensued about who was going to pick up the poop, because neither was keen on the idea. There were a couple of whines – "Oh mom, this is sooooo gross!" This from kids who regularly clean up after cats, as well as cows, pigs and chickens. Apparently the gross factor is all about what you're not used to.
Daddy came to the rescue by agreeing to do the job. By default (i.e., he was already holding the bag), he became the designated dog-poop carrier until a trash can could be found to dispose of it (which turned out to be near the end of the hike). A couple of times I heard my 13-year-old tell the dogs, "please, no more poop" (between the two dogs they'd managed to do their business at least a four times within the first 15 minutes of the hike). She started to worry that the number of dog poop bags she'd packed (which included a couple from the ranger at the entrance gate) wasn't going to last long enough for our hike. But her estimate turned out, thankfully, to be just right.
An unexpected challenge my 11-year-old faced hiking with dogs was our stop to view the osprey on Googins Island. She wanted to take a closer look at the nest, but the dog she was holding had different ideas and was tugging on the leash so she couldn't keep her binoculars steady. The leash was turned over to me so my daughter could take some time to look at the nesting birds. She commented several times it was hard to do her usual birding on this hike because the dogs "move around too much" (although it should be noted that these dogs were trained and very well-behaved and the issue was with my daughter, not the dogs) and she couldn't focus on listening and looking out for the birds as she usually does.
After a detour down some stairs leading to the water's edge, the girls found another challenge of hiking with dogs. Their furry friends had a hard time walking on the uneven rocky surface, yet were tugging on their leashes to get closer to the water. The girls were feeling as unsteady as their charges and opted to encourage the dogs to sit down. And as dogs will prefer, they flopped themselves into a puddle of water and the girls decided that wet, messy dogs were not going to be so great on the car ride home. They made haste back to the main trail.
The whole family agreed the highlight of this hike was meeting other dog owners. Every single person with a dog stopped to say hello and chitchat with us. After years of greeting other hikers with children, we all concurred that we'd never stopped to talk so much while hiking. But then again, a greeting that usually includes a question about the breed of your dog doesn't exactly translate well to parents of human children.
This hike was also a particularly good workout even though we were on mostly level ground because the dogs took us on a much faster pace than we're used to (but the stopping to chitchat helped us catch our breath). This was a plus for my older daughter, who has a lot more stamina for fast-walking and was just plain happy to be out with the dogs. But my younger child felt it was too fast and lamented that she couldn't "look around at everything as much."
Fino and I listened to the girls' various comments during the hike and had a chuckle about something we already knew. Our 13-year-old is a true dog-oriented person and happy to follow a furry friend's lead. And even though our 11-year-old likes dogs, she's not likely to share her life with one when she's older because she's just not wired for accommodating a pet's needs over her own.
Overall we had a very enjoyable day on this trail system and my 13-year-old was eager to bring the well-behaved dogs on another hike with the caveat that her dad also come along to scoop the poop again (though she conceded she could take care of that business on her own next time). My 11-year-old was less eager to take the dogs because they interfered with her hiking pace and her usual birding activities, but she enjoyed chitchatting with other hikers so she's still on the fence about it.
Fino and I enjoyed the dogs, and although it took a bit more work to plan a day on the trail with two kids and two dogs, we agreed we'd definitely bring our friend's dogs along again. We could continue to enjoy the dog culture without having to actually own one. That's a compromise with our 13-year-old we all liked.
Originally published in Raising Maine Magazine, August 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Exercise at a gym? No need, I've got pigs
Rain and pig pens are not a good combo. Not only has the pen been a muddy awful mess for weeks, the puddles of water that are not drying up are now becoming a health issue for the animals.
A farmer friend told L. when she first got the pigs that she needed to check their poop every day. That the poop was the best way to confirm the health of her pigs. If something with the poop changed, that would be the first indicator that something could be wrong with the animal. And L.'s resource book about pig health explained that with pigs, a simple case of diarrhea could lead to death in just a few days.
Over the weekend I saw a couple of watery poops from Titus which made L. (and the rest of us) concerned.
The pen used to be dry in the spring (for all the irony that is at the moment) but now the water situation is at critical mass. I’ve joked about "Pig Lake" on my Twitter account a couple of times and the expansion of Pig Lake’s Basin (at the entrance to the pen). But the situation became more serious the other day and we cursed the weather and the pigs' natural inclination to root. They do this (dig) frequently and enthusiastically and the holes they create collect water that take much longer to dry up (maybe they're hoping to swim to China instead of digging to it?).
We also noticed that the smell of the pig pen had changed. This may sound strange to people unfamiliar with farm animals but there is a healthy stench to a pig pen. I think we’ve got a handle on that smell (which isn’t all that great but we’ve gotten used to it) and believed the standing water in Pig Lake was changing the smell into something more foul and unhealthy for the animals.
So it became time for us to review our options to deal with the situation this past weekend.
One option was to dig up the fencing and move the pen, which presented all sorts of logistics problems on how to contain each 200+ pound pig while we did that (an all day project in the best scenario). Our other option was to figure out a way to dry out the pen with sand. The sand option was considered the more do-able choice.
Getting sand into the pen meant digging it up in another part of our property and using the wheelbarrow to dump it into the pen. Yes, we could have purchased bags of sand from the home improvement store but we were worried about the store's sand salt content. In case you didn’t know, salt (even a small amount) can kill a pig so it’s important to minimize their exposure to it. We thought it best to use what was already in the pigs' natural environment (with the bonus of being the thriftier choice as well).
Earlier this summer we had dug a couple of holes in a far off corner of our property to bury the manure and dump the sand we dug in to the pig pen. We decided to do the same thing again only on a larger scale. (i.e., dig deeper holes, get more sand).
Each wheelbarrow filled by Fino and I required L.'s assistance once we got the wheelbarrow to the pen's entrance. She had to use a board to direct the pigs in to another part of the pen so we could wheel in and dump the sand. This was tricky because (1) the pig's are always angling for an escape route and (2) the pigs were thrilled with the piles of sand and immediately set to root in it before we could spread it out. We got a handle on getting in the pen but gave up on spreading of the sand with shovels and just used our boots to push it in the general direction that we believed would do the most good.
After more than a dozen sand-filled wheelbarrows and a sprinkling of hay and shavings we decided the pen was as dry as we could make it at that point. It was an intense aerobic workout that lasted nearly four hours and we were exhausted by the end. And as funny as this sounds, so were the pigs. They were laying down and snoozing as soon as we left the pen (around 10:30 p.m.) after the last wheelbarrow dump and didn't wake up until after 8 a.m. the next morning (usually L.'s out at their pen at 6 a.m. to give them breakfast but they were still fast asleep so she let them "sleep in" until 8 a.m. when she roused them by poking their noses to get them up to eat).
Of course it rained that night (this is the crazy summer of 2009 after all) and although Pig Lake had not fully returned, there were still plenty of puddles in the pen the next morning.
So last night we set about digging another hole (hopefully no one will trespass on our land and fall in to one of the large 4-foot holes!) and filling another half dozen wheelbarrows of sand for the pen.
Then finally, after much sweat and blisters, I think this morning we finally have a handle on the pig pen situation (which would be aided by the rain subsiding for a day or two, just putting in my cosmic order for that). The pigs' healthy stench is back and Titus' poop is back to being solid and looking normal again, much to L.'s relief.
Oh, and for those who have more experience farming than we do, it's OK to have a chuckle at our expense after reading this blog. It's our first year with pigs and we (kids and parents) are living the 4-H motto -- "Learn by doing."
I do think we're deserving of points for effort in getting this pig thing figured out though -- and my family is becoming healthier in the process with all the exercise we've had building the shelter/pen earlier this spring and taking care of these pigs during this crazy weather. There isn't much sitting around watching TV at our house this summer. The pigs and rain (as well as Chickenland) have ensured we have had plenty of exercise in our daily routine.
Who needs a workout at the gym when you've got pigs?
PIG LAKE - before
PIG PEN - after hours of manual labor
It's not pretty but the pen does seem to be a heck of a lot drier than it was the other day. Now if the rain can stay away for a few days we might not have to do another sand dump...
PIG PEN IMPROVEMENT - in progress
Pigs loved the piles of sand and there were many happy pig grunts as they set to work immediately to root.
L.'s getting good at directing the pigs with the board and pushing them around (they're twice her body weight now). This will serve her well at the fair in September when she shows her pigs.
The pigs love a good scratch. L. can have them on the ground in seconds and in a trance-like state of bliss afterward, which will be handy in keeping her pigs calm when they go to the fair.
And as you can see by the photos, there were those of us doing the manual labor and another (G.) who took a more documentary - and less muddy and physical - approach to the situation (although we cut her a break because she deals with plenty of mud and wet at the cow farm).
A farmer friend told L. when she first got the pigs that she needed to check their poop every day. That the poop was the best way to confirm the health of her pigs. If something with the poop changed, that would be the first indicator that something could be wrong with the animal. And L.'s resource book about pig health explained that with pigs, a simple case of diarrhea could lead to death in just a few days.
Over the weekend I saw a couple of watery poops from Titus which made L. (and the rest of us) concerned.
The pen used to be dry in the spring (for all the irony that is at the moment) but now the water situation is at critical mass. I’ve joked about "Pig Lake" on my Twitter account a couple of times and the expansion of Pig Lake’s Basin (at the entrance to the pen). But the situation became more serious the other day and we cursed the weather and the pigs' natural inclination to root. They do this (dig) frequently and enthusiastically and the holes they create collect water that take much longer to dry up (maybe they're hoping to swim to China instead of digging to it?).
We also noticed that the smell of the pig pen had changed. This may sound strange to people unfamiliar with farm animals but there is a healthy stench to a pig pen. I think we’ve got a handle on that smell (which isn’t all that great but we’ve gotten used to it) and believed the standing water in Pig Lake was changing the smell into something more foul and unhealthy for the animals.
So it became time for us to review our options to deal with the situation this past weekend.
One option was to dig up the fencing and move the pen, which presented all sorts of logistics problems on how to contain each 200+ pound pig while we did that (an all day project in the best scenario). Our other option was to figure out a way to dry out the pen with sand. The sand option was considered the more do-able choice.
Getting sand into the pen meant digging it up in another part of our property and using the wheelbarrow to dump it into the pen. Yes, we could have purchased bags of sand from the home improvement store but we were worried about the store's sand salt content. In case you didn’t know, salt (even a small amount) can kill a pig so it’s important to minimize their exposure to it. We thought it best to use what was already in the pigs' natural environment (with the bonus of being the thriftier choice as well).
Earlier this summer we had dug a couple of holes in a far off corner of our property to bury the manure and dump the sand we dug in to the pig pen. We decided to do the same thing again only on a larger scale. (i.e., dig deeper holes, get more sand).
Each wheelbarrow filled by Fino and I required L.'s assistance once we got the wheelbarrow to the pen's entrance. She had to use a board to direct the pigs in to another part of the pen so we could wheel in and dump the sand. This was tricky because (1) the pig's are always angling for an escape route and (2) the pigs were thrilled with the piles of sand and immediately set to root in it before we could spread it out. We got a handle on getting in the pen but gave up on spreading of the sand with shovels and just used our boots to push it in the general direction that we believed would do the most good.
After more than a dozen sand-filled wheelbarrows and a sprinkling of hay and shavings we decided the pen was as dry as we could make it at that point. It was an intense aerobic workout that lasted nearly four hours and we were exhausted by the end. And as funny as this sounds, so were the pigs. They were laying down and snoozing as soon as we left the pen (around 10:30 p.m.) after the last wheelbarrow dump and didn't wake up until after 8 a.m. the next morning (usually L.'s out at their pen at 6 a.m. to give them breakfast but they were still fast asleep so she let them "sleep in" until 8 a.m. when she roused them by poking their noses to get them up to eat).
Of course it rained that night (this is the crazy summer of 2009 after all) and although Pig Lake had not fully returned, there were still plenty of puddles in the pen the next morning.
So last night we set about digging another hole (hopefully no one will trespass on our land and fall in to one of the large 4-foot holes!) and filling another half dozen wheelbarrows of sand for the pen.
Then finally, after much sweat and blisters, I think this morning we finally have a handle on the pig pen situation (which would be aided by the rain subsiding for a day or two, just putting in my cosmic order for that). The pigs' healthy stench is back and Titus' poop is back to being solid and looking normal again, much to L.'s relief.
Oh, and for those who have more experience farming than we do, it's OK to have a chuckle at our expense after reading this blog. It's our first year with pigs and we (kids and parents) are living the 4-H motto -- "Learn by doing."
I do think we're deserving of points for effort in getting this pig thing figured out though -- and my family is becoming healthier in the process with all the exercise we've had building the shelter/pen earlier this spring and taking care of these pigs during this crazy weather. There isn't much sitting around watching TV at our house this summer. The pigs and rain (as well as Chickenland) have ensured we have had plenty of exercise in our daily routine.
Who needs a workout at the gym when you've got pigs?
PIG LAKE - before
PIG PEN - after hours of manual labor
It's not pretty but the pen does seem to be a heck of a lot drier than it was the other day. Now if the rain can stay away for a few days we might not have to do another sand dump...PIG PEN IMPROVEMENT - in progress
Pigs loved the piles of sand and there were many happy pig grunts as they set to work immediately to root.L.'s getting good at directing the pigs with the board and pushing them around (they're twice her body weight now). This will serve her well at the fair in September when she shows her pigs.The pigs love a good scratch. L. can have them on the ground in seconds and in a trance-like state of bliss afterward, which will be handy in keeping her pigs calm when they go to the fair.And as you can see by the photos, there were those of us doing the manual labor and another (G.) who took a more documentary - and less muddy and physical - approach to the situation (although we cut her a break because she deals with plenty of mud and wet at the cow farm).
Monday, July 27, 2009
A sunny day aboard The Treehouse
We went cruising on the Merrimack River with Grandma and Papa Guy for our annual visit to The Treehouse (a houseboat). And thankfully, the weather cooperated beautifully for a great day on the river.
Both of the girls were offered their chance to drive the boat and G. served as captain for a significant distance on the river (to and from Newburyport from the Treehouse's mooring is about 15 miles round trip) and was a competent driver this year. Captain G. had a handle on the river's buoys and navigated the faster boats' wakes well and with very little assistance. L. spent less time as captain (her choice) and still had to use the step stool to see over the helm. But she was just as happy to be the passenger kicking back in the deck chair instead to enjoy the ride.
Newburyport is a favorite summer destination (by boat of course) for the girls because they love to visit the 'fairy store' and then stop off next store at Gram's Ice Cream for an Italian slush (a family favorite that we always indulge in time and time again when we're in MA).
I took some video of G. driving the boat and even caught the bridge opening for a passing sailboat.
One of the more interesting anecdotes on this trip was a man approaching The Treehouse at the Newburyport public docks and chatting it up with Papa Guy about watching a video that featured the boat. At first Guy thought it might have been the video of he and my mom's wedding last year that got some press because they were married on the unique-looking boat at the public docks (and the ceremony included bagpipes and bell ringers so this was not an unfounded assumption). But no, apparently he ran across a silly little video I took back in 2007 of L. driving the Treehouse and posted on my family's YouTube channel.
This social media stuff makes the world a much smaller place some days -- and gives boasting rights to a boat captain who seemed pleased to have a fan of his special boat.
Both of the girls were offered their chance to drive the boat and G. served as captain for a significant distance on the river (to and from Newburyport from the Treehouse's mooring is about 15 miles round trip) and was a competent driver this year. Captain G. had a handle on the river's buoys and navigated the faster boats' wakes well and with very little assistance. L. spent less time as captain (her choice) and still had to use the step stool to see over the helm. But she was just as happy to be the passenger kicking back in the deck chair instead to enjoy the ride.
Newburyport is a favorite summer destination (by boat of course) for the girls because they love to visit the 'fairy store' and then stop off next store at Gram's Ice Cream for an Italian slush (a family favorite that we always indulge in time and time again when we're in MA).
I took some video of G. driving the boat and even caught the bridge opening for a passing sailboat.
One of the more interesting anecdotes on this trip was a man approaching The Treehouse at the Newburyport public docks and chatting it up with Papa Guy about watching a video that featured the boat. At first Guy thought it might have been the video of he and my mom's wedding last year that got some press because they were married on the unique-looking boat at the public docks (and the ceremony included bagpipes and bell ringers so this was not an unfounded assumption). But no, apparently he ran across a silly little video I took back in 2007 of L. driving the Treehouse and posted on my family's YouTube channel.
This social media stuff makes the world a much smaller place some days -- and gives boasting rights to a boat captain who seemed pleased to have a fan of his special boat.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Clouds in the sky
The morning rain and intermittent thunderstorms today have produced some interesting cloud formations and G., my aspiring photographer, grabbed a camera and took a few photos of the white puffy clouds overhead a few minutes ago.
There is a peek of blue sky and sun right now but further on the horizon the sky has swirls of dark blue and black and I can hear the rumble of thunder so another storm is on its way as I type.
All the steady rain lately has been a real drag but there is some beauty in watching, and listening, to a summer thunderstorm roll in and out of town (from the safety of an inside-the-house vantage point). This is the sort of rain -- and heavy air (humidity) -- we usually see in July.
Not that I hope unsettled weather like this continues but at least I feel like maybe, just maybe, summer really has (finally) arrived in Maine.
There is a peek of blue sky and sun right now but further on the horizon the sky has swirls of dark blue and black and I can hear the rumble of thunder so another storm is on its way as I type.
All the steady rain lately has been a real drag but there is some beauty in watching, and listening, to a summer thunderstorm roll in and out of town (from the safety of an inside-the-house vantage point). This is the sort of rain -- and heavy air (humidity) -- we usually see in July.
Not that I hope unsettled weather like this continues but at least I feel like maybe, just maybe, summer really has (finally) arrived in Maine.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Guinea fowl good watchdogs ... in theory
We've raised chickens since the girls were little and overall it's been a great learning experience for my family. We don't raise meat chickens (ours are egg-layers) but the wildlife in the woodlands bordering our property find them a tasty meal on occasion.
We lose between 3-5 chickens a year, some to old age (a chicken's typical life-span is approximately 5-7 years with only a couple of those years as egg-layers) but it's the predators that get them mostly.
(In addition to foxes and fishers, one year we found a full grown red-tailed hawk in our yard stalking the chickens. We were about three feet away before it decided to take flight. It was the most impressive bird we'd ever seen so close -- and the most intimidating as the wing span was wider than our mini van was long!).
A couple of years ago some friends were calling it quits with their chickens and offered us their remaining flock (about a dozen birds) and included in the mix was a guinea. Up to that point we had never had any guinea fowl but had been told they were great 'watchdogs.' They make a very loud screeching noise whenever they perceive danger is near and Fino had already been doing some research about these birds so he was pleased with this new addition to the coop.
And as it turned out, since the guinea became part of our flock we have lost fewer chickens to predators.
So fast-forward to this spring. We've had the single guinea for a couple of years and things were going well and not overly noisy. But with the ordering of some new baby chicks (our flock is getting older and their egg-laying was becoming less reliable so we needed a few new chicks this spring) Fino decided to order THREE new guineas.
The girls and I tried to convince him that three was too many; one more would do us just fine. The one guinea we had already made an awful racket at random times (including the crack of dawn) and we thought adding more than one more to the mix was not a good idea.
But no, Fino was set on three (I still haven't figured out why he chose this number except that he was feeling ganged up on by the females in his life, which admittedly does happen frequently, so he dug his heels in to be contrary) and that's what he ordered from the feed store (and I made note a while back that I was concerned about this decision).
The new guineas are about three months old and have been fully integrated in to the flock for about three weeks.
And in a nutshell... they are a friggin' non-stop irritation!
The guineas start their racket at the crack of dawn (sometimes earlier) along with the rooster (a reluctant adoption but he's turned out to be only a minor irritation in comparison to the guineas) and are pretty much non-stop yapping "watchdogs" all day. There are actually times when they really get going that even the air conditioner and/or TV does not drown the noise out while we're in the house (which is to say nothing of days we have the windows open).
Yesterday morning I went outside with L. to record her morning pig chores for a video project she's doing and we gave up on her voice narration because the guineas were busy scaring away every predator within a 10-mile radius.
OK, I'm exaggerating but I have a one-minute video clip to share to demonstrate how truly annoying this noise really is. Yes the video offers a visual of the pigs and L. but it's the sound track I want you to make note of.
And I'll go out on a limb here and wager you won't make it through the whole minute before you turn the sound down and/or click the pause button.
Actually a real life pause button would be really nice right about now.
The Almeida guinea posse:
And because I have recent video of Chickenland (for those new to my blog, that's the kids' nickname for our chicken coop and flock), here are the usual noises and activity that start at dawn (sometimes earlier) on any given day in our backyard.
We lose between 3-5 chickens a year, some to old age (a chicken's typical life-span is approximately 5-7 years with only a couple of those years as egg-layers) but it's the predators that get them mostly.
(In addition to foxes and fishers, one year we found a full grown red-tailed hawk in our yard stalking the chickens. We were about three feet away before it decided to take flight. It was the most impressive bird we'd ever seen so close -- and the most intimidating as the wing span was wider than our mini van was long!).
A couple of years ago some friends were calling it quits with their chickens and offered us their remaining flock (about a dozen birds) and included in the mix was a guinea. Up to that point we had never had any guinea fowl but had been told they were great 'watchdogs.' They make a very loud screeching noise whenever they perceive danger is near and Fino had already been doing some research about these birds so he was pleased with this new addition to the coop.
And as it turned out, since the guinea became part of our flock we have lost fewer chickens to predators.
So fast-forward to this spring. We've had the single guinea for a couple of years and things were going well and not overly noisy. But with the ordering of some new baby chicks (our flock is getting older and their egg-laying was becoming less reliable so we needed a few new chicks this spring) Fino decided to order THREE new guineas.
The girls and I tried to convince him that three was too many; one more would do us just fine. The one guinea we had already made an awful racket at random times (including the crack of dawn) and we thought adding more than one more to the mix was not a good idea.
But no, Fino was set on three (I still haven't figured out why he chose this number except that he was feeling ganged up on by the females in his life, which admittedly does happen frequently, so he dug his heels in to be contrary) and that's what he ordered from the feed store (and I made note a while back that I was concerned about this decision).
The new guineas are about three months old and have been fully integrated in to the flock for about three weeks.
And in a nutshell... they are a friggin' non-stop irritation!
The guineas start their racket at the crack of dawn (sometimes earlier) along with the rooster (a reluctant adoption but he's turned out to be only a minor irritation in comparison to the guineas) and are pretty much non-stop yapping "watchdogs" all day. There are actually times when they really get going that even the air conditioner and/or TV does not drown the noise out while we're in the house (which is to say nothing of days we have the windows open).
Yesterday morning I went outside with L. to record her morning pig chores for a video project she's doing and we gave up on her voice narration because the guineas were busy scaring away every predator within a 10-mile radius.
OK, I'm exaggerating but I have a one-minute video clip to share to demonstrate how truly annoying this noise really is. Yes the video offers a visual of the pigs and L. but it's the sound track I want you to make note of.
And I'll go out on a limb here and wager you won't make it through the whole minute before you turn the sound down and/or click the pause button.
Actually a real life pause button would be really nice right about now.
The Almeida guinea posse:
And because I have recent video of Chickenland (for those new to my blog, that's the kids' nickname for our chicken coop and flock), here are the usual noises and activity that start at dawn (sometimes earlier) on any given day in our backyard.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
A geocache box replacement and fun rocks
We hid a geocache box at the Lowell Preserve hiking trails in Windham many moons ago (May 2005 to be more precise) when we were first learned how to geocache. It was our very first geocache hide.
I wrote a story for the Sunday Telegram about our first experiences and how to get started with the game. When prepping our first hide I asked our staff designer to create a treasure map to find the cache without a GPS for those people who were curious about the game but didn't want to invest in a GPS unit without learning a bit more about it.
[If you are a geocacher, you can find this geocache listing here]
About two years ago we had to replace the log book in the cache because it was full (and a most enjoyable read) but haven't been back since. Then over the winter a geocacher admitted to breaking the top of the container when he tried to pry it from it's hiding spot in the snow and ice (I very much appreciated his honesty in letting me know the cache was damaged) and I knew the container needed to be replaced.
I had it on my list of things to do since that email back in December but it wasn't until this past weekend that I got around to actually driving over to the trail to replace the container with a new one (which just goes to show that writing my lists does not always ensure the doing part).
We decided to replace the broken plastic container with a much sturdier and nearly unbreakable ammo box I picked up at the Army Surplus store in South Portland (it's the box of choice among geocachers because of it's sturdiness and color to blend in to the environment).
The one thing about the ammo box I don't like is carrying it on the trail. It looks a little suspicious and requires an explanation to non-geocachers. But we didn't run in to anyone and I was able to replace the old container, which was in very sad shape and full of water, without incident.
L. was the one who actually chose the hiding spot for this geocache because she thought all the kids who might visit our family's geocache would like the "fun rocks." The rocks are on a low-lying part of the trail and since they were a good landmark, they were identified on the treasure map per her request.
And even after all these years, hopping from rock to rock is still a highlight of this trail and geocache hide for her.
Then...
Now...
I wrote a story for the Sunday Telegram about our first experiences and how to get started with the game. When prepping our first hide I asked our staff designer to create a treasure map to find the cache without a GPS for those people who were curious about the game but didn't want to invest in a GPS unit without learning a bit more about it.
[If you are a geocacher, you can find this geocache listing here]
About two years ago we had to replace the log book in the cache because it was full (and a most enjoyable read) but haven't been back since. Then over the winter a geocacher admitted to breaking the top of the container when he tried to pry it from it's hiding spot in the snow and ice (I very much appreciated his honesty in letting me know the cache was damaged) and I knew the container needed to be replaced.
I had it on my list of things to do since that email back in December but it wasn't until this past weekend that I got around to actually driving over to the trail to replace the container with a new one (which just goes to show that writing my lists does not always ensure the doing part).
We decided to replace the broken plastic container with a much sturdier and nearly unbreakable ammo box I picked up at the Army Surplus store in South Portland (it's the box of choice among geocachers because of it's sturdiness and color to blend in to the environment).
The one thing about the ammo box I don't like is carrying it on the trail. It looks a little suspicious and requires an explanation to non-geocachers. But we didn't run in to anyone and I was able to replace the old container, which was in very sad shape and full of water, without incident.
L. was the one who actually chose the hiding spot for this geocache because she thought all the kids who might visit our family's geocache would like the "fun rocks." The rocks are on a low-lying part of the trail and since they were a good landmark, they were identified on the treasure map per her request.
And even after all these years, hopping from rock to rock is still a highlight of this trail and geocache hide for her.
Then...
Now...
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Never too old for fingerpaint
We bought some pots of fingerpaint at Michael's craft store last weekend and the girls and I spent an enjoyable morning painting like we were all in preschool again.
The girls were initially put-off by the fact that fingerpaint only came in four colors (primary and green) but they discovered mixing them up to create new colors (which required they remember their former art class color wheels) was fun.
They were also quite adept at painting each color with a different finger because it was a hassle to wipe your finger after using each color (getting that bit out of the fingernails is a pain and if you don't, it really can mix in to the next color you use). I didn't care for the awkwardness in using my ring finger to draw and I did a lot more cloth wiping than the girls did.
So less you think that your kids (or you) are too old to spend a morning fingerpainting, think again. It really is a lot of fun, especially on a rainy day ... and a lot less messy when your kids are 11 and 13 years old (although I think messy is good when it keeps the kids busy for hours so this was an activity we did a lot when the girls were little because these washable paints really don't stain anything).
By the time we were tired of painting we had about 20 pictures among the three of us. We did a variety of styles and subjects as you can see. The great thing about fingerpainting is that anything goes and it's easy to do even if you don't have a talent for painting (which I don't think I do, nor does G. feel she does either but we still had fun making designs and abstracts).
Oh, and I highly recommend that you get paper designed specifically for fingerpainting. The paint doesn't spread well on regular paper and the watercolor effect just isn't as nice.
The girls were initially put-off by the fact that fingerpaint only came in four colors (primary and green) but they discovered mixing them up to create new colors (which required they remember their former art class color wheels) was fun.
They were also quite adept at painting each color with a different finger because it was a hassle to wipe your finger after using each color (getting that bit out of the fingernails is a pain and if you don't, it really can mix in to the next color you use). I didn't care for the awkwardness in using my ring finger to draw and I did a lot more cloth wiping than the girls did.
So less you think that your kids (or you) are too old to spend a morning fingerpainting, think again. It really is a lot of fun, especially on a rainy day ... and a lot less messy when your kids are 11 and 13 years old (although I think messy is good when it keeps the kids busy for hours so this was an activity we did a lot when the girls were little because these washable paints really don't stain anything).
By the time we were tired of painting we had about 20 pictures among the three of us. We did a variety of styles and subjects as you can see. The great thing about fingerpainting is that anything goes and it's easy to do even if you don't have a talent for painting (which I don't think I do, nor does G. feel she does either but we still had fun making designs and abstracts).Oh, and I highly recommend that you get paper designed specifically for fingerpainting. The paint doesn't spread well on regular paper and the watercolor effect just isn't as nice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)