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Monday, April 13, 2009

Dream Houses


Hi, I'm Nancy.

(Or at least a gummy-smiled, bright-flashed version of myself). You're probably wondering what I'm so happy about. Keep reading.

My day has not gone like I expected. I planned to go to the gym and get a run in.
(See? The infamous running/stripper skirt.) Due to Joel's extra-long nap, that didn't happen. Instead, I was climbing the walls with this guy:



He was bored, and wanted to veg, veg, veg in front of the idiot box. For awhile, I let him, especially when my friend came over with Starbucks. (You see, I had left my purse at her house last night when I was over for Easter Dinner). After awhile, though, I could not let such sloth continue.

So, this happened:

Let me explain. I have been reading a series of books about Frank Lloyd Wright. The first is by T.C. Boyle, and it's called, The Women. It discusses all four of the famous architect's wives/mistresses. I learned that Mr. Wright had a taste for crazy, and he also had some terrible things happen to him. (A murder spree at Taliesin? I had no idea. Tragic.) I'm now reading another book called, Loving Frank, which focuses on just Mamah Borthwick, Wright's mistress/second "wife." Again, interesting stuff.

My point? I've been thinking about architecture, which made me think of three things:
1) My desire to see the prairie houses of Chicago's Oak Park neighborhood next time I'm there seeing my assorted family members.
2) My desire to see Taliesin the next time we're traveling through Madison, Wisconsin to
visit Paul's assorted relatives.
3) And finally, the Coolest Math Assignment Ever.

When I taught in AZ, my friend the math teacher, and my other friend (Hi Brian!) the gifted consultant teamed up to teach area and other mathematical concepts through a "dream house" unit. The students used math to create their future dream houses out of found materials. This being Tucson, many of the houses were Southwestern in decor, had flat roofs and were almost always one story.

Anyway, Owen was bored and I was going to make him have healthy, non-electronic fun, dammit. I got the recyclables out of the laundry room and told him that he and I were going to build a dream house. (See how this is all coming together? Reading about Frank Lloyd Wright+ Memories of Dream Houses+ Desperation=Forced Fun for Owen!)

Behold, Owen's castle/machine. The baby food containers suck the water into the house. The water bottle facing out sideways is the drain. The yogurt containers are the chimney. The milk container is to scare away the giants, naturally. And the wine bottle? That's "for Mommy and Daddy."

I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with Owen's comfort with wine. That might be another meeting, I mean, posting.
It looks like Owen enjoyed this little activity. I mean, look at that bright-flashed, slightly gummy smile!

Perhaps I have a future Frank Lloyd Wright on my hands. Or a plumber.

2 comments:

Coby Goesling said...

He may be comfortable with wine, but could he say "whiskey" at the age of two - and know it when he saw it? (I'm referring to Thing 1 and Thing 2, of course).

Very creative. I'm filing that one away for future use.

Jen Matthews said...

Just as you are not so comfortable with Owen's comfort with wine, I am not so comfortable about Danielle's comfort with beer. I don't drink beer and Bob doesn't drink it at home until after the kids are in bed, but my Dad drinks Budweiser pretty regularly. Danielle calls it "Bugweiser." On Easter she said, "Grandpop, you need a Bugweiser."