A tropical heat wave

I do believe it's the hottest summer I've ever experienced in my life. It's somewhat of a source of amusement, though, as my kids gripe and whine, "We're so hhh-ooOoo-ttt! It's soooo hot out today."

Okay, yes.
Yes, it is so "hhh-ooOoo-ttt!" (oh, the drama)
Deal with it.
"Why, when I was your age, I had to walk three miles through blinding snow up to my chest...."
Wait.
Wrong story. That's the one my parents told me.

Let's try this again.

"Why, when I was your age, we didn't have any air conditioning. It was hotter inside the house than outside. The spot directly in front of the fan was most coveted, and we sat in front of it any chance we got, even against our moms' warnings that we were going to get Bell's Palsy."
Now, my kids have actually asked me before if I lived in horse and buggy days, so you know this little "fans instead of air conditioning" story lands my fanny back in Walnut Grove from their point of view. But hey, if it stops the whining...

Thankfully, we discovered a wonderful treasure to assist us in our efforts to beat the heat here in central Indiana. Now, I should preface this by saying I grew up just 25 minutes from one of the great lakes. If you've never seen any of them, just picture the ocean, only calm.
When I lived in San Francisco, I even had friends ask, "Can you see the other side from the shore?" (giggle, giggle)

No.
No, you cannot see to the other side while standing on shore. That said, you can see to Canada on a very clear day from the top of some of the roller coasters at Cedar Point (the greatest amusement park in the nation, hands down!) It's just a distant hint of shoreline, but yes, you can see it.

So, back to my point. I grew up near Lake Erie and also lived near the Pacific ocean. But a job related move to central Indiana? Um, okay...uh,..but,...where will we swim?
And logically, you'd tell me, "In a pool."
Well, yeah. And they do have wonderful park systems and pools here. But,...
We're land locked. Not so happy a thought for this girl who A) prefers country living and wide open spaces and B) grew up next to Lake Erie and the islands.
In other words, being land locked makes me feel quite claustrophobic at times.

So a few weeks ago, I felt a bit desperate to find some type of beach here (I should tell you we've been here 4½ years already, so I wasn't overly confident that a beach was going to suddenly appear.) There is a large reservoir just to the north of us, but its "beach" is nasty (sure, you can technically swim in the reservoir but there is no beach to speak of, only some icky concrete steps down into the equally icky "beach" water.) Imagine my surprise when I discovered that a state park about 45 minutes from here has, yes, a b-e-a-c-h!

Glory be!

Ironically, we've driven by it many times while on our way to some of our favorite hiking trails.
No indications of a beach noted.
No visuals. No signage. Nothing.
And I've mentioned to several people here that it's hard for us to feel land locked.
No one mentioned this beach.
Perhaps they felt it couldn't compare with a great lake and thus wasn't worth mentioning?
Or perhaps it's not well known.
I don't know.

But it's there and the drive is a scenic one (through the wide open country spaces that my soul literally craves.) And the beach is nestled into a scenic cove.
And it's FUN!


Raccoon Lake, our new favorite beach!
(You needn't remind me it's our only beach. I assure you, I am well aware.)


We spent the entire afternoon there this past Monday, a late continued birthday celebration for Olivia, who turned (gulp!) 11 on July 5th. I made her the coolest birthday cake this year. I wanted something to reflect her new phase of childhood, that of a tween-ager (she's sooo into the "title", lol). So I made her a monogrammed purse cake. Is it the cutest or what? She loved it.


What else is happening in the H home? Well, I am knee deep into homeschool planning. Sheesh, we're headed into our SEVENTH year of homeschooling. I'm reeeeally excited to implement more Charlotte Mason elements into our days. The primary curriculum I use (and love, and endorse) is My Father's World. It takes a classical/Charlotte Mason/Unit studies approach, three elements I'm fond of.

However, I want my children to become more intimately connected with our subject matter. For us, that means more Charlotte Mason. And definitely more creativity on my part. And I'm excited and challenged to inject that into our learning. Oh my, I could plan for months and months more, but alas, I only have about 3½ weeks left before our year officially begins (we do light math and continued reading all summer long.)

One of the "just for fun" things my husband and I wanted to add this year is a class pet. We had talked about a rabbit, a bird, or possibly even a reptile. Since nature study will be a big part of our regular schooling this year, we felt a little friend in the classroom would fit well with our love of nature and living things. As God would have it, one of our church family members needs someone to take over the care of her guinea pig as she heads off to college. So we are adopting Edgar, a brown and white guinea pig who will join our family in the next week. We've already been on the internet, pouring over the "do's" and "don'ts" of cavy care. And we went to You Tube and listened the the various cries and sounds a guinea pig might make and what they indicate.

My kids are coming at me with endless questions, prompted by endless excitement over Edgar's pending arrival.
"Where will we put him?"
"Why did she name him Edgar?"
"What does he eat?"
"Can we hold him?"
"Is he allowed on the furniture?"
"Does he like trains?" (Brandon, age 3, lol)

A summer storm has picked up and my speakers are fritzing, so I'll take that as a warning I better get off this transistorized tormentor.
Please remember to enjoy the rest of your summer days eyes wide open, glass half full. Because they truly are.

Toni