Compost Studios

I am a writer, nature lover, budding artist, photography enthusiast, and creative spirit reducing, reusing, and recycling midlife experiences through narrative, art, photos, and poetry. 

I can be reached at:

veronica@v-grrrl.com      

Backdoor
The Producers
Powered by Squarespace
 

Copyright 2005-2013

Veronica McCabe Deschambault, V-Grrrl in the Middle, Compost StudiosTM

Content (text and images) may not be cut, pasted, copied, reproduced, channeled, or broadcast online without written permission. If you like it, link to it! Do not move my content off this site. Thank you!

 

Disclosure

All items reviewed on this site have been purchased and used by the writer. Sale of items via Amazon links generates credits that can be redeemed for online purchases by the site owner. 

 

Advertise on this site

Contact me by e-mail for details. 

Wednesday
Apr252007

The joy of Scholastic Books

Yesterday when I picked up E-Grrrl after school, she was toting her black backpack and a white plastic bag straining at the seams. As she climbed into the back of the car she excitedly said to her brother Mr. A: "The book order came in!"

She methodically unloaded the bag while her brother impatiently demanded the book he was waiting for: Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. He'd also requested My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George (which I read when I was a kid) as well as its two sequels.

E-Grrrl had begged for Madonna's latest book, The English Roses: Too Good to be True, and Isabel of the Whales by Hester Velmans. The book she couldn't live without  was Emily Windsnap and the Monster of the Deep by Liz Kessler, the sequel to The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which her teacher had read aloud in school.

Because both kids love animals, I bought them Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover's Soul  and Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover's Soul  as a surprise.

The car hadn't pulled away from the curb before Mr. A and E-Grrrl were buried in their stories and by bedtime E-Grrrl had read all 220 pages of the Emily Windsnap book and Mr. A had devoured Hatchet.

Upstairs in our house is a bookcase that houses my own collection of Scholastic Books. When I was a kid,  I remember poring over the paper book flyers with such longing. The youngest in a large, working class family, there was never a time when money wasn't tight, but my parents always bought me books.

Back then they cost 25-50 cents each. Today my kids get a thick wad of flyers representing a number of book clubs every two to three weeks. Back then there was only one book club flyer, and it didn't come out that often. Normally I was allowed to get two books. Sometimes I shook down the sofa cushions, car interior and my older sisters' coat pockets looking for change to spend on books.

I went through phases with my selections. I liked animal books for a while and was entranced by titles like How to be an Animal Detective. I remember adoring mysteries for quite some time, enjoying the way they scared me in the middle but always turned out fine in the end. I think the spooky aspect of the mysteries is what drove me to buy lots of ghost stories. I had a fling with magic books when I was in second and third grade, and there are a number of them on my shelves.

I also liked Peanuts comic books and any kind of arts and craft project book. I often succumbed to Disney books that were based on movies. I almost never got to go the movies as a kid, so the books were my connection to the films my friends were talking about: The Shaggy Dog, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, 101 Dalmations, The World's Greatest Athlete, The Boatniks, and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

The Scholastic Book Club also introduced me to classic kids books, such as Mary Poppins, Stuart Little,  Harriet the Spy, and the Ramona books by Beverly Cleary. Later I sunk my teeth into young adult titles like The Witch of Blackbird Pond and Jacob Have I Loved. E-Grrrl likes to explore my old books and read some of them herself. Mr. A hasn't had much interest in them.

I still remember carrying my book order to school in a white envelope bulging with change to pay for my selections. Nowadays when I write a check to the Scholastic Book Club, it's likely to be in the vicinity of $50. Once it was well over a hundred dollars. I consider it money well spent. For the most part we read the books and then donate them to charity, only hanging onto absolute favorites which get read over and over again.

Just as the musty titles on the hall bookshelf take me back to the happy afternoons when the school secretary delivered a cardboard box to the teacher and I just KNEW I was going to have a great day, I hope Emily Windsnap and Hatchet will one day remind my kids of the happy evenings they spent sprawled on their beds in Belgium, lost in a story.

April 25, 2007

Tuesday
Apr242007

While my keyboard silently weeps...

Hey Y'all,

I'm tired of writing serious posts about the sad state of the world and crazy people and guns and politiicians and mental health funding and social problems and all that. I'm not cut out for carrying the world on my shoulders. People, I have a bad back!

337613-656661-thumbnail.jpgI just want to return to my happy place in the enchanted forest. Check out my photo album and you'll see how happy a place my happy place is. It is THE happiest place ever, y'all. Look at this photo and imagine being there.

Peaceful. peaceful. peaceful.

Happy, happy, happy.

But I'm not happy.

I'm not happy cause E, in  a fit of virtual housekeeping, deleted Microsoft Word by accident.

I know, I know. How do you delete Microsoft Word by accident?!!! How? How? HOW?

Well it had something to do with the date on the program file and him thinking this was an OLD version of Microsoft Word not our ONLY FREAKIN COPY OF MICROSOFT WORD.

I'm struggling to remain calm, even though I'm a WRITER and how am I supposed to live without Word recording my words?

I was all forgiving and sweet this morning when he confessed to the results of his dirty digital cleanup because I thought it would not be a problem to undo and restore the files.

I was wrong. All that niceness was wasted.

I go to Microsoft.com thinking, "I've been wanting to get Office 2007 anyway. No problem, I'll just get it right here, right now."

But oh no, I was WRONG. I can't order straight from Microsoft and download it immediately. No, I have to make a purchase from a Microsoft retailer.

Hello! Bill Gates! I'd just like to tell you that dropping in at CompUSA, Best Buy, or Staples is not a freakin option for me. Not, not, NOT!

(Stamps foot for emphasis.)

FINE. I will order it online and have it shipped.

FINE. I will try to live and breathe and carry on without word processing software for at least a week while waiting for a package from the U.S.

(Pauses briefly to breathe into a paper bag and stem finger-tingling hyperventilation symptoms).

There now--all I have left is anxiety.

(Debates popping an extra Zoloft while wishing for a Xanax. )

SIGH.

OK, I'm back. Where was I?

Oh yeah, I was at the part where I was going to order Microsoft Office from Best Buy. And it wouldn't let me put my APO address into the order fields. So I get online Help, follow the directions exactly, and it rejects my address over and over and over again until I want to thrust a fist through the monitor and grab a real person in Cyberland and tell them to send me the software NOW. I need the software!!!!

I'm just not up for this crap because, people. I'm now in hour two of life without word processing, and I'm not feelin so good. I mean for a writer this is like breathing thin air. This is like having my ventilator switched off. This is like a kink in my IV. This is like an office visit from Dr. Kevorkian.  I'm not handling this well!!!

(Pauses to breathe into paper bag again. Wonders whether a copy of Microsoft Office purchased in Belgium will run on American PC. Hyperventilates again.)

Did y'all know Europe has its own digital format to prevent digital piracy? Yeah. Their CDs and DVDs can't be read by my computer, TV, boombox, or DVD player. What about their software? I don't know.

(Pauses to weep softly over FREAKIN INTERNATIONAL DIGITAL PIRACY LAWS.)

Don't worry. I'll be fine. I still have a pen and a legal pad.

(Wipes snotty nose on sleeve).

E is leaving for the Netherlands in an hour and will be safe from my wrath and mental instability.

(Note to self: Do not insert flip remark here about how it's a good thing I don't own a gun. That would be in very, very poor taste. The fact that you're even thinking about it shows how far you've fallen. Remember the cardinal rule of Southern Ladies, "Shut up and be gracious!")

Sigh.

Til later.

Yours til the pen runs dry--while my keyboard silently weeps,

V-Grrrl

April 24, 2007

Monday
Apr232007

Street smarts

(Neil at Citizen of the Month posted an interview with a fellow blogger on gun control. His friend, a law enforcement officer who doesn't own guns, supported the rights of people to own guns and carry concealed weapons. The following is based on the lengthy comment I left on Neil’s site, which seemed long enough to be a blog entry of its own.)

Living in Europe now, I am subject to the outrage people here feel in response to American gun policies. Why should Europeans care? Because most of the handguns in Europe come from America, and they feel their own gun policies are being undermined by ours.

Until we moved here, we owned guns. Early in our marriage, my husband was a hunter. When he was in the military and had access to a shooting range, he liked to target shoot and we had a handgun for use on the range. When we had children the guns were hidden and locked away and not used at all. The children didn’t know they existed until we sold them when we left the U.S. Guns can be responsibly owned and used for sport, but that doesn't mean I would not support legislation to limit the type and number of weapons people could own and the circumstances they can buy them under.

On Neil's blog, his friend wondered what would have happened if one of the students or professors in Norris Hall had been armed. How might that have changed the story? Could someone have killed the shooter? What if they fumbled with the gun and shot an innocent person?

There are lots of guns in the U.S. but is anyone really safer? Does the number of guns in America deter crime? Contrast the number of times we read about accidental shootings of innocent people because of guns in a home with the number of times we hear about Citizen John Doe successfully using a weapon to prevent a crime or defend himself against a real threat.

When someone feels they’re in danger, do we want their first response to be picking up the phone or picking up a weapon?

When police respond and arrive at the scene of a crime, do our law enforcement officers want to be dealing with “citizen shooters” and “friendly fire” as well as criminal fire?

Is it right for Citizen John Doe to shoot and kill someone about to steal his motorcycle out of his home driveway? How about someone carrying his TV out of his house when he arrives home? How about someone stealing his iPod?

Where do we draw the line on what’s acceptable use of a firearm? Do people deserve to DIE for property crime, for trespassing?

Anybody besides me remember Bernie Goetz?  Was he a hero or a villain?

Last year in Belgium, a young man was fatally stabbed in a Metro station when he refused to surrender his MP3 player to two teens. Within days, nearly 100,000 people gathered and marched in the city to protest his killing.

My question for Americans is WHERE IS OUR SENSE OF OUTRAGE? Maybe the tens of thousands of people filling stadiums and reciting school cheers to “remember the victims” should hit the streets instead.

March and demand answers. March and demand change. March and let your words and presence say that these sorts of killings are unacceptable, and we need to do EVERYTHING we can to prevent them.  Sure second amendment rights are important, but let's not forget the power of our first amendement rights to freely assemble and speak. Words CAN change the world. Whatever your thoughts are, engage in the political process and share them with those who have the power to change our laws and shape our culture.

April 23, 2007

Copyright 2007 Veronica McCabe Deschambault and V-Grrrl in the Middle. All rights reserved.

Sunday
Apr222007

Sunday evening in an enchanted forest

We were all a little tired after a weekend of travel, camping, upset stomachs, and church meetings. It would have been easy to collapse on Sunday night, but we didn't. Instead we headed to the Bois de Halle outside of Brussels to see the fabled bluebells in the forest. Magic. The only thing more wonderful than the sight of these violet colored flowers was their scent permeating the woods.

bois de halle i.jpg

More images of the bluebells are in my online Photo Album.

April 22, 2007

Thursday
Apr192007

Part III: Breakthrough...

Watching the video of Cho Seung-Hui, feeling revulsion and fear become something else--

Sadness, deep sadness, not just for the victims whose smiling faces are splashed across every screen and page, but for the cruel, hardened face of the shooter sharing his dismal "letter to the world."

More and more I'm convinced he never have had a moment of peace or happiness, lived a life devoured by rage and hate and disillusionment.

Out of the fog of my tears,

I unexpectedly find

traces of compassion

for the one who made me cry.

window with flowers abbey de villers.jpg

April 19, 2007

Wednesday
Apr182007

Reaction to the Virginia Tech Shootings: Part II

The first voices and themes we heard in the reporting on the Virginia Tech massacre had to do with security issues, SWAT team response, and the university's decision not to cancel classes after the first shooting. Then the politicians and activists began weighing in on second amendment rights and gun control. and now, finally, attention is where it belongs--on the shooter. Now we're asking the question that really matters: why did he buy the gun and pull the trigger, killing people he didn't even know? What was wrong with him?

As journalists tease out the story behind the story, it's all a bit too familiar. Cho Seung-Hui manifests familar symptoms of mental illness and personality disorder. He is described as a loner, someone who took keeping to himself to an extreme, someone who seethed with anger beneath a quiet surface, someone who wouldn't even sign his name on a clipboard on the first day of class, someone who would sometimes call himself Question Mark. A student who would not engage in conversation or discussion wiith other students in his dorm or in his class, someone who spoke in monosyllables, someone who was never seen with anyone else.  A student who left behind a written trail of angry, vitrolic, macabre violence, who had been investigated for stalking three women, who had threatened suicide, who preferred to sleep with the light on and the door open.

His roommates tried to include him in social activities, meals, conversations--only to be rebuffed. They kept an eye on him because of his strange behavior. When he threatened suicide, one of them let the police know and he was taken to the university's mental health center and stayed there for a time.

Then there is the English professor who found Cho's writing and behavior so disturbing that she pulled him out of class and tutored him one-on-one to protect the other students in his classroom and to see if she could break through to him. She encouraged him time and time again to get counseling at the university health center. Lucinda Roy, former chair of the English Department, did all that she could to intervene in his life and to protect her students.

She showed Cho's writing to university officials, told them she considered him a threat, but by her accounts, no actions were taken. Dr. Roy said university officials reminded her his writing didn't explicitly threaten other students, he produced it for a creative writing class so it was "fiction," and Cho had a right to free speech.  Dr. Roy, unnerved by Cho's behavior, didn't give up. She approached police and university officials multiple times but nothing was done because by legal definitions nothing could be done: Cho didn't break any laws in being anti-social, angry, emotionally disturbed, and presumably mentally ill.

It would be easy to leave the discussion here, to acknowledge that in America personal liberty and civil rights guarantee people the right to be as "crazy" as they want to be within the limits of the law. The price of being free is the knowledge that we will have to live with discordant voices and those who make us uncomfortable. No American wants to give the government or other authorities the power to silence or stop those who are deemed a threat to society before they actually break any laws.

But there's more to this story than authorities inability to force Cho to get help or leave campus or behave "appropriately" in the classroom. There's the question of what help was available to him, not just at Virginia Tech but in his hometown in northern Virginia. I haven't read anything yet about his upbringing or long term history, but from personal experience, I can tell you it's hard for ordinary people to get treatment for emotionally disturbed family members of all ages.

Within my extended family, I have someone who has needed mental health care for depression as well as drug and alcohol abuse. Like most people with that trio of issues, he has not been able to hold a job for very long, does not have insurance, and isn't in a position to make sound decisions. He has had the support of family members on and off for as long as he's had his problems. He doesn't have insurance and he doesn't have an income. He has a lot of debt and no way to pay for the mental health services he needs.

If you're broke, what treatment is availalbe? Not much. Not enough. Not anything that will support a person's recovery long term. At this point in his life, his problems are so entrenched that there isn't a quick fix available. Even if he had insurance, chances are his mental health coverage would be severely limited. I had a cousin with a long standing alcohol and prescription drug abuse problem. After she'd had multiple car accidents, her insurer finally paid for alcohol and drug treatments. Seven days in a residential treatment center. No follow up. Seven days? Seven days!?! Does her insurer really believe it's saving money by limiting her stay? What has her alcoholism cost them already? What has it cost her family? What if the next time she drives she kills someone? Her doctors believed she needed at least two weeks, maybe more, as  jumpstart for a long term treatment plan.

Several girlfriends of mine have brothers with mental health and alcohol issues that go back all the way to their childhoods. They have failed in their attempts to find a government agency or public organization that can help diagnose and treat their siblings' mental health problems and underwrite some of the costs of alcohol and drug treatment and the needed followup care. Sure there are mental health services but they're all limited in scope, overbooked, and overworked. Many just refer callers to other agencies who also can't provide direct help.

Why isn't there more available? We will always hear it costs too much to deal with the complicated psychological and mental health problems of alcoholics and drug addicts. This isn't news: we know it's expensive because we can't afford to pay for the treatments for our loved ones on our own.  We know there's a high rate of recidivism for addicts.  Still, I think the big myth is that the government is saving us money by refusing to adequately subsidize mental health treatments or by waging a "war on drugs" rather than a "war on mental illness and addiction."

Ignoring the problem doesn't make it go away.  Emotionally disturbed and drug addicted teens grow into emotionally disturbed and drug addicted adults. Some become criminals. Some become homeless. Most become the neighbors who fight and threaten one another, the people who neglect and abuse their children, the co-workers who are unreliable, the people who can't get or keep a job, the family members who break hearts over and over and over again.

So when a society draws the purse-strings tight and refuses to properly fund mental health services, how much money do we save? What does it  really cost us when ignore people who can't work, can't get along with others, who abandon their children and their families, who disturb their neighbors, who hurt others physically and mentally and essentially leave destruction in their wake? These folks don't support themselves, their children, their communities, the national economy. We all end up taking up the slack. They bring children into the world that are likely to grow up emotionally disturbed themselves and start the whole cycle over again. Some of them end up in jail where we support them for life AFTER they're wreaked havoc.

As a society, we pay for neglecting the mentally ill over and over again, in ways we can't even see clearly. Make no mistake, untreated addiction and mental illness costs us more than we can measure. It may even cost us 33 lives.

Did Cho ever really get help? Did he want help? Could anyone or anything save him? I don't know.  But there are plenty of people in less extreme circumstances that need access to mental health care in order to function and be productive members of society. I hope for all our sake that they get it.

April 18, 2007 

Monday
Apr162007

Reaction to the Virginia Tech shootings: Part I

(Written as the news was breaking...)

My nephew is currently a student at Virginia Tech. My niece is a grad. So many thoughts rushing through my head. I don't know if my nephew is safe though I have no reason to believe he isn't. Virginia Tech is an enormous school, he doesn't live on campus, he isn't an engineering student...

But the horror of it all. I actually knew someone who was present at the 1966 University of Texas massacre, which until today was the worst school shooting in U.S. history. If I remember his story correctly, he was crossing the street with a friend, part of a knot of students going to or leaving the post office. Shots rang out and people died--including the friend he was walking with. He wasn't shot but the life he'd lived up until that moment was irrevocably altered.

Why does America have school shootings? What is it in our culture that spurs people to arm themselves and slaughter students at school? Even the Amish have had their tiny schoolhouses bathed in blood. Why in the richest nation in the world are there people so desperate, bereft, isolated, and deranged that shootings like this are becoming increasingly common?

In the fall of 2001, when a sniper was terrorizing Virginia, Washington, D.C., and Maryland, my children were locked down in their school. The sniper struck in a mall parking lot less than a half mile from campus. I can't tell you what it was like to drive by the scene of the shooting not knowing where the shooter was and attempt to retrieve my children from the school. For months, they didn't have recess, children were dropped off at the door of the school one by one and escorted in by police. A child was shot at a school in Maryland. The sniper struck at a gas station in our town as well. We never felt safe.

Here I am in Europe, watching this story unfold in Virginia, thinking hard about how the current administration has focused the nation's attention on the Other, the foreigner, the Muslim extremist. Talk to a European about visiting the U.S. and you'll hear their horror stories--having to provide bank account numbers, fill out paperwork, wait in long lines, have their laptops accessed, be fingerprinted and treated like criminals.

But who's doing the killing in America? Who's slaughtering innocents? Who's commiting domestic "acts of terrorism"? None other than our own citizens. It's laughable to think Bush was ready to pour millions of dollars into fencing the border with Mexico, as if people trying to snag low-paying jobs was our biggest domestic threat. It's a great diversionary tactic to keep us from looking at ourselves, our economy, our way of life, our thinking, and what we find acceptable.

Maybe it's time we stop demonizing the enemy without and pay attention to the enemy within.

After an event like this, the focus is always on security and emergency response; it isn't on our national mind set, our culture, our social values, support systems, or mental health and social services. 

The question that needs to be answered isn't simply "Why couldn't the police stop this shooter more quickly?" but "What might have stopped this person from shooting in the first place?"

April 16, 2007

Monday
Apr162007

Trash talk

There are three children’s car booster seats sitting out by the curb waiting for the trash guy to come.

They are Century booster seats in perfect condition. Someone could use them, but I have no idea who.

I keep wanting to go outside and rescue them. Drag them inside and try to sell them or donate them or do SOMETHING other than just throw them away.

But the truth is I don’t know WHAT to do. My husband is tired of waiting for me to come up with a plan. He wants the obsolete booster seats out of the garage.

The booster seats are just the beginning. There’s the curio shelf that hung for a time in our house in the U.S., was taken down when we rearranged things, moved to Belgium, and then left languishing in the storage room. It's time to get rid of it.

There’s an old computer, monitor, and printer up in the attic that we don’t use but haven’t managed to give away. I think there are still files on the hard drive that I want to save but haven't sorted through.

My kids took piano lessons for three years and then abandoned them and never once looked back. What to do with our electronic piano/keyboard, case, and stand?

And what about the extra TV we inherited from E’s mom? Works fine, but like the computer and electric piano/keyboard, it has an American plug. What to do with that?

Then there’s the three boxes of cassette tapes that helped us survive many a car trip with the kiddos. Children's tapes. Classical music. Jazz. Christmas songs.  Does anyone listen to cassette tapes anymore? Can I part with my favorites?

I have BBC recordings of classic books on tape. Can I really trash Winnie the Pooh read by Alan Bennett? The All-of-a-Kind family series? Understood Betsy? The original Dr. Doolittle? The Wind Boy? Three Tales of My Father’s Dragon?

And yes, I have two boxes of VHS children’s tapes that I'm ready to part with.

In the U.S., I had so many outlets for shedding belongings. The church and the school both had annual garage sales. There was a thrift shop just down the road that accepted donations. I consigned our better quality clothes to a shop downtown and  sold items through the free classified ads in the local paper, generating a few hundred dollars a year. I passed toys and clothes onto family members and friends. I donated books to the library sale.

Here it’s so much harder. Sure there are organizations that take items but with the language barrier, contacting someone and coordinating for drop off or pick up is a bit daunting. I don't know who to support or who to trust. Plus, when I see an address or postal code for an organization, I have no idea how close it is to my home, whether we can get there without going crazy, or even how we can transport all the stuff that won’t fit into the car easily.

I need to just deal with it and quit waffling, get rid of my piles and my indecision or drag it all out to the curb and hope somehow, some way, it gets recycled.

April 16, 2007

Copyright Veronica McCabe Deschambault and V-Grrrl in the Middle. All rights reserved.

Sunday
Apr152007

Wondering about the weather....

We’ve had beautiful sunny weather since before Easter, and each day it gets warmer. Early on, temps were in the upper 50s but now at the end of spring break they’ve climbed into the 80s.

I’ve loved the sunshine flooding into the house, the chance to see the stars in the night sky, eating meals out on the terrace, observing the way the leaves have unfurled and gilded the trees, the proliferation of flowers coloring the landscape, the sight of people biking, walking, and running.

But I don’t like the heat.

Normal temperatures in Belgium this time of year top out in the 50s or low 60s. Seeing 83 degrees for a string of days in April gives me pause. Last summer we suffered from a record heat wave from late June until the end of July. I became increasingly listless and miserable. Keep in mind that homes and businesses aren’t air conditioned in most of Europe, that when it gets hot there is no where to go to cool down. All those charming brick and stone houses with tile roofs turn into solar hot boxes. After a few days, I begin to feel as flat as a pizza in a brick oven. There’s just no relief.

Plus, with global warming and climate change constantly in the news, there’s a sinister undertone to every freakish weather occurrence. I felt unsettled when Nance, who lives in northern Ohio, said she’d had a green Christmas and a white Easter. When Belgium, which normally sees average highs of 70 degrees in the summer, has weather in the 80s and 90s for weeks on end, it’s worrisome. My brother in New York was buried by record-breaking snowfall last winter, my sister in Maine had floods, and all the violent thunderstorms whipping through Virginia have cost us thousands of dollars in tree service costs.

So when a friend tells me the bright warm weather is supposed to continue all this week, my smile is a little wan, my happiness tempered by thoughts of ozone inversions, melting glaciers, droughts, and fears of the unknown spanning both the short-term and long-term. Really, I’m trying to appreciate the sun, but I think I’m ready for Belgium’s trademark gray skies and rain to let me know all is right in the world after all.

April 15, 2007

Friday
Apr132007

Maybe he's part Aborigine

Eleven-year-old Mr. A is a seasoned maker of bows and arrows. He has even made compound bows, and his aim is quite good. His bow-making skills are well known in the fifth grade, and he's actually sold bows and arrows to his friends (yeah, you can bet their parents hate me).

Now, he's turned his attention to blow guns, fashioning darts out of toothpicks and Q-Tips. Having advanced beyond the standard plastic straw stage, he has moved on to more durable materials: copper pipe and tubing. He bought a length of pipe, polished it with Brasso, and lacquered it to keep it from tarnishing. His accuracy with it is surprising. He can now hit and pop balloons as they float to the ground after being tossed into the air.

blowgun i.jpg

See? If you don't let your kids play violent video games or watch TV, they have the time and initiative to create REAL weapons at home. Why settle for virtual violence when your child can study the physics and impact of projectiles at home?

We're just hoping he never develops an interest in explosives...

April 13, 2007