Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Water Beads and Eyeballs

examples of crystal soil colors

  Ewwww they feel like eyeballs! 
And indeed they do. 
Daddy Bowerbird is not keen.
"Have you felt you own eyeball?' asks the Big Bowerbird suspiciously.
"Yes, when their is something in there, or even just out of curiosity", I reply.

Bouncy bright coloured peepers to squeeze and delve your fingers through. Eyeballs that like to escape and roll across the floor, sometime whole bowls full of eyeballs running amock. Eyeballs that grow, that start off tiny, then become lumpy, and finally are perfect slippery spheres. Eyeballs you can break into tiny parts. Peepers you can add to the garden when the fun is over, or you can dry out to play with again another time. Eye balls that last and keep coming out for more experiments. Eyeballs that glow when the sun shines through them. Eyeballs to arrange in artistic patterns, eyeball traffic lights.

I ordered these online.  All the kids loved them. They'd make great stocking fillers or an alternative Halloween gift (or eyeball prank).
For more eye ball ideas, I mean water beads ideas, check out these sites.
I think you get the idea (pun intended)
Have you ever felt an eyeball?

let the children play
Linking up with Let The Children Play


  1. Waterbeads? I'd never heard of them before...brilliant!

  2. I've never heard of water beads I will have to check them out. To answer your question yes I've felt an eyeball, many times. I used to wear contacts so that in itself means I've had to get things out of the eyes and such. I've removed stuff from my children's eyes when young and when homeschooling my children one of the requirements for biology in our state is that it included at least one dissection. So we dissected an eyeball, from a sheep. I thought it was going to be really gross, but found myself completely lost in discovering everything inside the eyeball. I think I had as much fun as the kids did.


In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Margaret Atwood

“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young