is what DD is calling me.
In answer to a question, I pulled out a couple of cookbooks. I have about 300. For some reason, the boys had never noticed them. Now, the entire sitting room floor is littered with them. They are writing down recipes to try. They are looking on the globe to trace the originof ingredients (have lots of culinary histories and encyclopedeia). Must go into Atlanta to buy some ingredients. Unschooling, I guess. They are as I type, still where they have been for the last 2 hours, researching food. Sounds like science, history, and geography to me. History of chocolate involved Aztecs' battle practices, colonial exploitation, trade embargoes, pirates, trade routes for the last 500 years...N has become enamored of the concept of Hoisin sauce.
They are also much more committed to the garden.
On second thoughts, it's all San Damaino's fault because he broght me 4 African-American cookbooks last night. That's wat started the whole thing this morning.
When I am complaining about N, I forget to mention that he has learned to make coffee (we do French presse). In the mornings and after dinner, he makes it and brings it to us. Granted, it's an excuse to make himself a cup of hot chocolate, but still...
In answer to a question, I pulled out a couple of cookbooks. I have about 300. For some reason, the boys had never noticed them. Now, the entire sitting room floor is littered with them. They are writing down recipes to try. They are looking on the globe to trace the originof ingredients (have lots of culinary histories and encyclopedeia). Must go into Atlanta to buy some ingredients. Unschooling, I guess. They are as I type, still where they have been for the last 2 hours, researching food. Sounds like science, history, and geography to me. History of chocolate involved Aztecs' battle practices, colonial exploitation, trade embargoes, pirates, trade routes for the last 500 years...N has become enamored of the concept of Hoisin sauce.
They are also much more committed to the garden.
On second thoughts, it's all San Damaino's fault because he broght me 4 African-American cookbooks last night. That's wat started the whole thing this morning.
When I am complaining about N, I forget to mention that he has learned to make coffee (we do French presse). In the mornings and after dinner, he makes it and brings it to us. Granted, it's an excuse to make himself a cup of hot chocolate, but still...
