The Wicked Kings of Bloon is written and illustrated by Steven Kellogg and is copyrighted 1970. Kellogg is the author and/or illustrator of many books for kids, as you can see on his website, including Is Your Mama A Llama by Deborah Guarino, a favorite in our house. As you can see, I have had Bloon since I was young enough not to realize that I shouldn’t be writing “Scool Book” on my books. My hardback copy was purchased for $1.00 probably about 1975, but that’s really just a guess.

Kellogg’s artwork is amazing—rich and colorful, textured and emotional. To my eye, it appears to be both watercolors and colored pencils.

The story contains several morals, the main one being that war is wrong and doesn’t make anyone happier.

“Bloon is a summer land of warm golden fields and tiny villages. The gentle folk who lived there spend their days walking through the flowers, telling silly stories, and snoozing in the sun.”

The citizens of East Bloon are happy, simple people living in a bucolic world near the Land of Monsters, but that isn’t a problem for them at all …

… until “the meanest hag of them all,” Hepzibah, raises her twin sons, Horridge and Heathfern, to despise one another. See how wicked she is? She’s about to mow down that flower!

“‘HORRRRRRRRIDGE! Horridge, you little wretch, why can’t you do anything right? Why can’t you be like Heathfern?'”

“‘HEATHFERN, you ugly beast, why are you so clumsy and awful? Why can’t you do anything right? Why can’t you be like Horridge?'”

That would do it, don’t you think?

By the time the boys were twenty, they had flattened their miserable shack with their fighting and Hepzibah kicked them out. “‘I hate you,’ hissed Horridge. ‘I’ll get you,’ spat Heathfern.”

Horridge left the Land of Monsters and came to the peaceful village of East Bloon, “where he found the happy villagers giggling, tickling each other, and dancing around the square.” Horridge decided he wanted to be king of East Bloon, so he threatened the villagers. “‘Unless you make me your king, I will topple the tower of your town hall at dawn tomorrow!'” And with the help of a powerful magnet, he did. The villagers, not knowing what else to do, made him their king and brought him all of their precious treasures.

Horridge grew fat from eating all day and all night. “He insulted the ladies. He punched the village elders. He threw things at the members of his court. And still he was not happy.” One day, he spied through his spyglass the friendly neighboring village of West Bloon, only there was a fat, horrible king looking back at him. Heathfern! “‘EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-YOG!’ shrieked Horridge.” And the once-peaceful village of East Bloon began to prepare for war. “The last whisper of joy went out of life in East Bloon.”

Horridge went to the Land of Monsters and enslaved a giant, cuddly monster, wrenching him away from the arms of his beloved, to be a beast of war. “For days, the gentle creature lay in chains grieving for his mate in the mountain cave while the court blacksmiths scurried about measuring him for a suit of armor.”

In time, the fateful day of battle came. Soldiers from both East Bloon and West Bloon marched out of their fortified cities. “‘Smash them! Smash them! Bash them! Crush them!’ bellowed the kings.” The war beast of East Bloon lumbered forward, until he recognized his beloved, covered tip to toe in armor of her(?) own to fight on the side of West Bloon.

“Crying out for joy, the two happy animals toppled their riders, tore off their metal plates, and fell gurgling into each other’s arms.” This was the wake-up call that the villagers needed. They whispered and conferred among themselves, and then dethroned the kings Horridge and Heathfern, in favor of a peaceful United Kingdom of Bloon.

The trappings of war were thrown off and demolished. “The East Bloon band broke into a joyous tune and the armies flung themselves into a rousing polka.” Since the brothers could not put aside their differences and join the villagers in a peaceful life …

… the villagers sent them flying …

… right back to their hag mother.

This is the first book I can remember tackling the idea of war. That these gentle people could be convinced by bullies to abandon their happy pursuits and go to war really bothered me. I used to wonder why Hepzibah was so cruel, and how anyone could think parting those two gentle creatures was OK. I guess the story is a product of its time and it was very powerful to me.

I pulled this book out last week and read it to my boys for the first time. Lucas was appropriately aghast at the behavior displayed by Hepzibah, Horridge, and Heathfern. So, I’d say the book is still doing its job.

Asher and I walked to school two mornings last week. (With the shift to our summer schedule, we hadn’t been doing that as much since we had to drive Lucas to summer camp, too.) It was fun to have those cool morning walks together.

We discussed again where the curb water drains to. “What does this sign say, Mama?”
“Protect our creeks. No dumping. Drains to Arcade Creek.”
“Under the road?”

We visited those bumpy sedum plants again—he remembered just where they were. And guess what! They are flowering, with tiny star-shaped white flowers.

We also visited the “super-secret spy tree.” I had no idea it was any such thing.

Asher likes to know where the roads go. “This one goes to the zoo? This other road goes to Lucas’s school?” Yesterday he told me, “That road goes to the Fairy Zoo.”
“Oh? The Fairy Zoo? What kind of animals do they have at the Fairy Zoo?” I asked.
“Horses and marmosets.”

There is nothing quite like a crisp summer morning. It always seems that the whole world is savoring the moist coolness all the more for the day’s coming heat.

We are having full, full days with summer camp and day care and work for Mom and Dad.

Today there was a play performance at summer camp. Lucas was a tax collector in the “Dragon with Thirteen Tails,” performed on the Oak Stage at Sacramento Waldorf School. We also got to see a gymnastics demonstration, as the children have been doing movement and assorted gymnastics in the awesome gym.

Some days, to get out of the heat, we play with puzzles.

And with chalk in the cool morning.

Lucas goes to piano lessons on Wednesdays. This week he noodled around until he figured out the first part of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.” When he told his piano teacher, Mrs. Tan, she helped him work on it and learn the next little bit. I love that she goes with his interests!

We swim at Grandma’s and Papa’s house, and at swim team practice and swim lessons. Only four more of those are left!

We watch our garden grow—the things we planted …

… and the things we didn’t, like this volunteer sunflower!

And we watch and care for the chickens. Oh, how they are enriching life around here! Our first week of chicken farming has been going well. We’re all fascinated by them.

At first the chickens slept on the ground in a cuddle puddle, all higgledy-piggledy, piled on top of one another in the corner of the chicken run. They hadn’t gotten the lay of the land yet, I think. Gradually they are claiming this new space as their own. Ian had to pick them up one night and put them on the roost inside the chicken coop, but after that, they seem to get it. Last night we found them roosting just where they’re supposed to be (where it’s safest), without any help from us.

We gathered sixteen eggs in the first four days, after that, I lost count. They are averaging almost four eggs per day. They eat pretty much ALL of our kitchen scraps, including milk leftover from the boys’ morning cereal (for the calcium). I didn’t know chickens drank milk, did you?

The eggs taste wonderful!

This summer I’ve worked on another bunch of clam diggers for Asher, more because I need the sewing practice than he needs the pants.  I’m now working on the fifth pair, every once in a blue moon. If I had a solid free hour, I’d finish them. Here are two pairs that are done. I made a golden pair with yellow stars, too. Too bad “lellow” isn’t his favorite color anymore.

We match colorful pants/clam diggers/shorts with tees like these to make the perfect play clothes for little boys. But aren’t all clothes play clothes when you’re little?

Some blessings for counting:

1. Organic strawberries with lunch
2. Air conditioning
3. Hobbies and art to enliven and enrich life
4. Potty-training successes—finally!
5. Blueberry flavored iced-tea
6. Automatic chicken watering devices (like a drinking fountain for chickens)
7. A bumper crop of giant green tomatoes
8. Doors that begin opening as soon as others start closing
9. My brilliant, loving husband
10. Spiders sitting smack in the middle of their webs

After a great deal of hot, exhausting, sweaty work—done mostly by my intrepid and valiant husband in 100-degree weather—we now have a working coop and chicken run and chickens to put in them! We spent today putting on some finishing touches, like installing the roost, filling in holes with dirt, etc. Ian built the person-size door to the chicken run today, even though we got the chickens last night and fenced them in. Putting all that chicken wire on was a big job and we worked right up until the deadline at 4 p.m., when had to go get the hens …

… which was a funny sort of adventure in that they had to be caught and put in a big cardboard box. They were hiding from the heat under a deck when we arrived and we had to coax them out. Fortunately their confident, courageous (former) owner caught them for us and then we put our box of hens into the back of the car. Chickens in a box. Weird. I’ve had chickens in grocery bags before, but never in a box!

The boys were and are pretty excited! Lucas wants to be very near them. He held one of them today for a few moments. The hens were a bit skittish yesterday evening, but they seem to be settling in.

We have four chicken breeds: clockwise from lower left, we have a Black Sussex, a Rhode Island Red, two Leghorns, and an Araucana at the bottom right. Good gracious, it’s hard to get good chicken pictures! They’re always moving!

We have some disagreement over their names, however. It seems we Wilsons are an opinionated bunch. Let me show you how:

Probably, we’ll end up using Lucas’s names most of the time. Although, I’m pretty sure the girls don’t care, so maybe we can each maintain our own pet names for them.

See how my Ian has suffered this week. He’s a prince among chicken-coup builders! Oh, and extremely tough, super macho, and manly.

Here’s Henrietta/Posh/Sunrise/Chicken 1.

Mid-morning today we got two eggs, laid in the same little hollow in the leaf litter. This afternoon, we got three more eggs, including a green-shelled one from Henrietta/Posh/Sunrise/Chicken 1, our Araucana.

I think we’re going to have a bit of trouble at first telling the two white birds apart. We’ve noticed that one has a little scar on top of her comb and they have different combs (in their shape and in the direction the fall). But I’m pretty sure Lucas has switched their names on me a couple of times already. One of them, Sporty, of course, was the hardest to catch and get into the box for transport yesterday.

The chicken run we (Ian) built (I helped with the wire!) is an area far bigger than our five hens need, but we think we want to get more birds. Also, I’m not sure how hard they are going to be on our garden and landscaping when we let them out to range, and if they start doing major damage, I may want to keep them confined in their big-enough run most of the time. Some friends let their chickens out every evening for “happy hour.”

The hens are fascinating so far, and I LOVE the sounds they make. We’ve been feeding them kitchen scraps today and they’ve devoured everything we’ve given them. We’ve also sacrificed some of our worms from our worm farm to feed our hens. We want our girls to be well nourished and also to associate their new home with yummy food.

What an adventure we’ve embarked upon! Crazy-weird and exciting. We’re chicken farmers!

So, Friday again. There’s always such gorgeous POTENTIAL in Fridays, such HOPE, so many dreams and plans. How will we fill our weekend? What weekend joys will fill and fulfill us over the next few days? Around here, we call weekends “Family Days.” I know we have family days every day, for we are never really far from one another. But “Family Days” is the name that means something to my children, and it helps us grown-ups remember that these two days are important, no matter what we end up doing (even if it’s just chores and hanging out). Family Days are special. Daddy is home with us all day. There’s less routine (like little boys waking up even earlier than usual out of excitement) and more resting. A bit more reading. More breathing out.

It’s funny, the expectations I carry. I want my Family Days to be idyllic and restful, peaceful and restorative after a hard/busy week of bouncing to and fro between kid activities and work. I also want Family Days to be packed with exciting projects and fun, tons of friends and laughter, special foods and adventures away from home—all to fill up our hearts, minds, and eyes.

Oh Friday, where will you take us?

Lots of weekends look a lot like work days for me. Today I’m imagining that apart from all that dreamy fun, adventure, social time, and rest we’ll have this weekend, I’ll also get gobs and gobs of freelance work done. Yes, this is where that time machine comes in. I’m awaiting its delivery. Should be any day now. I have my receipt around here somewhere …

On deck for this weekend:
• Getting our hens!
• Finishing coop/chicken run chores (yikes!)
• Getting some straw and feed and chicken sundries
• Tons of editing work for me
• Dinner with friends
• Some swimming, hopefully—it’s damn hot
• Grocery shopping
• Making snacks and popsicles

This morning, my kiddos were READY for Family Days. Asher whined, “It’s NOT a school day. It’s a Family Day! We play together today.” I know how he feels. Although he rallied and adjusted his attitude to going to preschool, he gave me a set of assignments for today: “Spray your plants. Work on your computer. Build with blocks on our zoo. Then when I come home, I’ll say ‘Good job, Mom! You did good work today!’”

“Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world.”   —Ada Louise Huxtable

Makeshift leaf bandage, fashioned by Lucas to heal his little brother’s hurt knee

Pumpkin vines and roses love hot, hot days

Morning glory heart-shaped leaves are as precious as the flowers

A surprise magnolia blossom on my tulip tree

Asher’s interpretive dance with Mardi Gras beads and stick

Blueberries for pie!

We’re getting chickens!

Grandma’s next-door neighbors are relocating to Rhode Island and they must find a new home for their five hens. Since we’ve been talking about getting chickens for about two years, we decided that now is the time. The hens are two years old, tame,  and laying. Perfect! The coop they are presently in cannot be moved as it’s more of an outbuilding than a coop, so we have to build our own chicken house. In our area, there are plenty of raccoons, opossums, and skunks who would love to feast on our girls, so we have to provide them with a safe home.

We visited the hens on Saturday just to make sure our children wouldn’t be terrified of them. I wanted to discover any phobias before we invested the time and effort into moving the chickens to our home. Then we set out for the local feed store, a place I haven’t been in many, many years. We met the chicken expert and pecked his brain a bit, then Ian started designing and figuring and calculating and masterminding.

On Sunday, we hit our home improvement store to buy building supplies. Then we came home and started work on our coop.

Lucas hammering

Asher hammering

Measuring and marking with his new carpenter’s pencil

My husband is so clever! And handy! And handsome!

Endless fascination

Asher did his natural work of mimicking and playing with the hardware. (He also did an amazing interpretive dance wearing mardi gras beads and a sword—LOVE.) Lucas was a big help to his dad and kept on task through most of the day, keeping a good attitude. Both boys are over the moon about getting chickens and promise to do their chores.

The coop is coming along well! After the first day of construction it already has a raised floor, back, and sides. Next is putting on the roof, building some nesting boxes, and putting on the front doors. The boys were so cute while helping Daddy yesterday. We made good progress over the weekend, but there’s still a long way to go, including sinking some fence poles and building the run. We are thinking about using a few vinyl flooring tiles on the floor of the coop so it scrubs clean really easily, like a kitchen floor. The whole front of the coop with be two big doors, so it will open completely when we want to clean it.

Me? So far, I’ve been in charge of photography, holding heavy lumber, beer buying, iced-tea and popsicle distribution, editing to keep up our bottom line, and dreaming of what colors to paint the coop.   😉

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.