Hmmm. I'll get right to the point. I think blogging, specifically this kind of journal blogging, is for needy people. Like people who have bumperstickers. They're looking to make a statement about who they are, to be noticed, to make a friend.
So, on some level, I'm needy (but not so needy to have any bumperstickers on my vehicle.) I need to know that there are other people like me out there. Not just necessarily homeschoolers, but people who can see the absurdities of our daily lives. My premise for this blog, when I began, was a homeschooling journal of sorts, but, our whole life is homeschooling, and my homeschooling philosophy (since I now have one) is to foster independence and point out life's absurdities to my little darlings, therefore, I believe this blog may take a somewhat new direction...
I've tried to write cutesy stories about the kids, serious social commentary, witty banter, inspirational thoughts, angst-ridden confessions, and I certainly admire those of you out there who do that, and I enjoy reading many of these type blogs, but that's not exactly my style. Re-reading some of my posts, I sound like I'm trying to take the high road, which is a noble thing, but not my thing. I think now it's time to let loose and tell you what I really think.
You may find it sophomoric, petty, or bitter. So? I'm going to write as though I were discussing my life with my most black-hearted friends (A, whose true calling in life is to be an environmental terrorist, when she's not being Anna Karenina, that is; and my dear cousin C, a nurse with a cruel sense of humor.) They're the ones who inspire and provoke me.
I will call a spade, a spade.
I will keep in mind one of my favorite quotes, Eleanor Roosevelt's, "Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people," but I'm not promising to live up to those standards. It should count though, that as I'm discussing people and events, my discussions will focus on the central idea that we live in an absurd society.
Saturday, January 31, 2004
Friday, January 30, 2004
Whatever
The death of common sense goes hand in hand with the unparenting and general rudeness that was discussed yesterday on the board. The exact same scenario as MFS described played itself out during G's gymnastic exhibition a few months back. I did manage to get a peek at my daughter though, after I vacated my front row seat and stood in the back -- easier to see over all the amateur cinematographers. First of all, I couldn't figure out where all these proud parents had come from, most had never been to a lesson. There were a few I recognized from practices: The horrible nasal lady who would loudly drone on her cell phone the entire time; the lady with the toddler who flopped around on the mats, despite the posted rules and withering looks from the well-behaved; the lady whose ceaseless conversation was always about either shopping or "the O.C. -- the best show in the whole world since Falcon's Crest went off the air!" Sad.
The only consolation for MFS is that she gets to regularly enjoy her daughter's hard work during each and every regular performance, not just the big one. That must count for something.
Both S and G have expressed their disgust at the behavior of parents and participants at several of their group activities, and except for gymnastics, have chosen to pursue individual sports (swimming, tennis, and golf), which is just fine with me.
What is wrong with these people?
--------------
Science Friday was a hit. The girls drew and took notes on the structure of atoms and molecules, and we did four experiments. I plan to follow the guide from the Microchem 5000 and supplement with information from DK's Eyewitness Science Chemistry.
My chemistry lesson for the day was: Methylene Blue Dye is a very bad thing.
---------------
S is being a highly dramatic prepubescent today. She needs some space, man, so she's sitting outside, on the boat, in the rain, reading The Hobbit.
The only consolation for MFS is that she gets to regularly enjoy her daughter's hard work during each and every regular performance, not just the big one. That must count for something.
Both S and G have expressed their disgust at the behavior of parents and participants at several of their group activities, and except for gymnastics, have chosen to pursue individual sports (swimming, tennis, and golf), which is just fine with me.
What is wrong with these people?
--------------
Science Friday was a hit. The girls drew and took notes on the structure of atoms and molecules, and we did four experiments. I plan to follow the guide from the Microchem 5000 and supplement with information from DK's Eyewitness Science Chemistry.
My chemistry lesson for the day was: Methylene Blue Dye is a very bad thing.
---------------
S is being a highly dramatic prepubescent today. She needs some space, man, so she's sitting outside, on the boat, in the rain, reading The Hobbit.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Limited exposure
A friend called this evening to get together for dinner, but, alas, we're on opposite coasts, so we caught up long-distance.
We met years ago when our oldest daughters attended Catholic school together. They're a little more permissive than we are, he believes that denying your child anything creates a forbidden fruit situation, which should be avoided at all cost, but after two years of trouble that went uncorrected by the principal, including the fourth grade teacher who told the kids there was no Santa, and the fifth grade lessons in the girls' room, by various students, with tips on performing oral sex and rolling a joint, even they had enough. They finally pulled their daughter from that school last year.
Glad we missed all that.
Now their daughter is unhappy and having a difficult time at her new school, a larger local Catholic school. Are the academics too tough? Is it the peer pressure to join in activities she's uncomfortable with? No, it's the emotional rollercoaster of dating, being cheated on, breaking up, and watching your girlfriends betray you for the now eligible hottie. He qualified this by saying that it's not real dating, just "going together", but it's still creating an inordinate amount of stress in his daughter's life, and they just don't know what to do.
"Is S [our daughter] interested in boys yet?" he asked.
"Uh, not really, but then our exposure is pretty limited..."
"Yeah," he laughed, "nobody to fall in love with out there but gopher tortoises."
Damn right!
---------------
Tomorrow, I am keeping my promise of reinstituting science. Mostly, we unschool it in the science department, but tomorrow I haul out the Microchem 5000 and notebooks, and spend as much time as the girls want, mixing up potions, blowing things up, whatever.
---------------
And also tomorrow, Dad's back. He tried to make it today, but as usual, too many phone calls, too many minor emergencies on the job. So we'll see him sometime in the afternoon.
Bicoastal living, incidentally, is great and I thoroughly recommend it to all. Just when things start to drag at the end of the week, Dad shows up, everybody's happy, and by the time we start to get on each other's nerves (480 sq. ft. will do that to you sometimes), he leaves. It's the whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing.
We met years ago when our oldest daughters attended Catholic school together. They're a little more permissive than we are, he believes that denying your child anything creates a forbidden fruit situation, which should be avoided at all cost, but after two years of trouble that went uncorrected by the principal, including the fourth grade teacher who told the kids there was no Santa, and the fifth grade lessons in the girls' room, by various students, with tips on performing oral sex and rolling a joint, even they had enough. They finally pulled their daughter from that school last year.
Glad we missed all that.
Now their daughter is unhappy and having a difficult time at her new school, a larger local Catholic school. Are the academics too tough? Is it the peer pressure to join in activities she's uncomfortable with? No, it's the emotional rollercoaster of dating, being cheated on, breaking up, and watching your girlfriends betray you for the now eligible hottie. He qualified this by saying that it's not real dating, just "going together", but it's still creating an inordinate amount of stress in his daughter's life, and they just don't know what to do.
"Is S [our daughter] interested in boys yet?" he asked.
"Uh, not really, but then our exposure is pretty limited..."
"Yeah," he laughed, "nobody to fall in love with out there but gopher tortoises."
Damn right!
---------------
Tomorrow, I am keeping my promise of reinstituting science. Mostly, we unschool it in the science department, but tomorrow I haul out the Microchem 5000 and notebooks, and spend as much time as the girls want, mixing up potions, blowing things up, whatever.
---------------
And also tomorrow, Dad's back. He tried to make it today, but as usual, too many phone calls, too many minor emergencies on the job. So we'll see him sometime in the afternoon.
Bicoastal living, incidentally, is great and I thoroughly recommend it to all. Just when things start to drag at the end of the week, Dad shows up, everybody's happy, and by the time we start to get on each other's nerves (480 sq. ft. will do that to you sometimes), he leaves. It's the whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing.
Shame
As part of our return to normalcy yesterday, my temper flared up. I said something that I regretted to one of the kids. Again. Nothing major that will have any lasting impact, and it did turn out OK in the end, but, no excuse.
G had fallen out of her chair earlier in the morning. And then fallen off a stool. The child NEVER stops moving. Constantly wiggling and fidgeting, she's always swinging her legs or hopping around and prefers to do her schoolwork practicing handstands. I finally threatened to send her to school where she would be forced to sit still forty-five minutes at a pop. Then I suggested we practice it at home, and I'd even ring a bell to let her know when she could move, or eat, or use the toilet, all at the top of my lungs.
Things settled down a bit, until she fell off her chair again. I yelled that in public school, children who fall off their chairs get put in the 'special class'. She affected a nerd voice and started pretending to be excited about being in a special class, which fortunately broke the tension and cracked everyone up.
But I still feel bad. She's such a sensitive little kid, a hard, stony exterior, but soft on the inside. A lot like me, too much like me maybe... I'll never forget the horrible things my mother did and said to me. I never wanted children for fear I'd only perpetuate that ugliness, and here I am. Great.
G had fallen out of her chair earlier in the morning. And then fallen off a stool. The child NEVER stops moving. Constantly wiggling and fidgeting, she's always swinging her legs or hopping around and prefers to do her schoolwork practicing handstands. I finally threatened to send her to school where she would be forced to sit still forty-five minutes at a pop. Then I suggested we practice it at home, and I'd even ring a bell to let her know when she could move, or eat, or use the toilet, all at the top of my lungs.
Things settled down a bit, until she fell off her chair again. I yelled that in public school, children who fall off their chairs get put in the 'special class'. She affected a nerd voice and started pretending to be excited about being in a special class, which fortunately broke the tension and cracked everyone up.
But I still feel bad. She's such a sensitive little kid, a hard, stony exterior, but soft on the inside. A lot like me, too much like me maybe... I'll never forget the horrible things my mother did and said to me. I never wanted children for fear I'd only perpetuate that ugliness, and here I am. Great.
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Back to normal
The last two days were an aberration. Today was much more typical.
First thing this morning, S noticed that Jack, G's hedgehog, had tipped his food bowl over in the night and began straightening up the cage. It dawned on me that I hadn't noticed the scritch-scratch noises he usually makes in the middle of the night and, half-joking, asked S to check and make sure he was still alive...
(Jack had come with a friend, Fred, who unfortunately perished shortly after arriving on the island. He was S's pet and she had been over on the other coast with her dad for a few days, hysterically insisting we not bury him until she could return and bid Fred farewell in person. Fred was temporarily interred in the freezer until my husband could properly dispose of him. I sure didn't want a repeat of that.)
So when S called Jack, and his snuffling little snout did not immediately pop out, we got nervous. She shoved her hand inside the curved PVC pipe he uses for a den, and shrieked.
Oh, God, here it comes...
"He's gone!"
"WHAT?!" Clearly not what I was expecting to hear. She turned the pipe vertically and stuck her hand all the way through, like a bad magic trick. TA DA! Gone. We launched a search party and found him a short time later, curled up inside an old number chart that had been lying forgotten behind a trunk.
----------------
The girls are excitedly training for a local 5k race scheduled in late February and spend every spare minute outside with their stopwatch, recording various statistics. They are at this moment, trying to get most of tomorrow's schoolwork done tonight, so as not to interfere with their workout.
Two years ago, in the same race, S and G came in first and second, respectively, in their division. The funny part was that right at the start, S bumped G, who fell down and tore up her knee pretty badly (well, that's not exactly the funny part...) S went on ahead, but G wanted to quit. I convinced her to keep going, she whined and cried pretty much the whole way, but we ultimately completed the course. Dead last. But because mine were the only two kids registered in their age group, she still received a trophy for second place.
With that taste of victory, they're ready to do it again!
First thing this morning, S noticed that Jack, G's hedgehog, had tipped his food bowl over in the night and began straightening up the cage. It dawned on me that I hadn't noticed the scritch-scratch noises he usually makes in the middle of the night and, half-joking, asked S to check and make sure he was still alive...
(Jack had come with a friend, Fred, who unfortunately perished shortly after arriving on the island. He was S's pet and she had been over on the other coast with her dad for a few days, hysterically insisting we not bury him until she could return and bid Fred farewell in person. Fred was temporarily interred in the freezer until my husband could properly dispose of him. I sure didn't want a repeat of that.)
So when S called Jack, and his snuffling little snout did not immediately pop out, we got nervous. She shoved her hand inside the curved PVC pipe he uses for a den, and shrieked.
Oh, God, here it comes...
"He's gone!"
"WHAT?!" Clearly not what I was expecting to hear. She turned the pipe vertically and stuck her hand all the way through, like a bad magic trick. TA DA! Gone. We launched a search party and found him a short time later, curled up inside an old number chart that had been lying forgotten behind a trunk.
----------------
The girls are excitedly training for a local 5k race scheduled in late February and spend every spare minute outside with their stopwatch, recording various statistics. They are at this moment, trying to get most of tomorrow's schoolwork done tonight, so as not to interfere with their workout.
Two years ago, in the same race, S and G came in first and second, respectively, in their division. The funny part was that right at the start, S bumped G, who fell down and tore up her knee pretty badly (well, that's not exactly the funny part...) S went on ahead, but G wanted to quit. I convinced her to keep going, she whined and cried pretty much the whole way, but we ultimately completed the course. Dead last. But because mine were the only two kids registered in their age group, she still received a trophy for second place.
With that taste of victory, they're ready to do it again!
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Day Two
Two in a row, how lucky is that?
This time the kids actually were up, dressed, and starting their schoolwork while I was still snoozing on the futon.
Besides the girls' room, where they are stacked up to the ceiling on bunks with a trundle, and the second bedroom that has been converted to a library/storage, we essentially live in one room. It's our living/dining/kitchen/family/office/bedroom, and that's where I was, flat on my back this morning, with sounds of shuffling papers, footsteps and the occasional, "Shhhh!", whispering about the edges of consciousness, until I received a poke in the eye from my three year old. "Good morning, Mama! I wuv you! See, she's awake!"
It was 9:00 AM.
After perusing a few blogs before bed, I finally shut down around midnight. Or so I thought. Figured out today that the clock on this laptop had never been properly set and it reads three hours less than it should. No wonder! Luckily, I had one Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso left in the fridge.
Another good day, but I won't bore you all with the details. Besides, I'm going to bed early...my laptop says it's 8:48 PM already.
This time the kids actually were up, dressed, and starting their schoolwork while I was still snoozing on the futon.
Besides the girls' room, where they are stacked up to the ceiling on bunks with a trundle, and the second bedroom that has been converted to a library/storage, we essentially live in one room. It's our living/dining/kitchen/family/office/bedroom, and that's where I was, flat on my back this morning, with sounds of shuffling papers, footsteps and the occasional, "Shhhh!", whispering about the edges of consciousness, until I received a poke in the eye from my three year old. "Good morning, Mama! I wuv you! See, she's awake!"
It was 9:00 AM.
After perusing a few blogs before bed, I finally shut down around midnight. Or so I thought. Figured out today that the clock on this laptop had never been properly set and it reads three hours less than it should. No wonder! Luckily, I had one Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso left in the fridge.
Another good day, but I won't bore you all with the details. Besides, I'm going to bed early...my laptop says it's 8:48 PM already.
Monday, January 26, 2004
I'm back in the saddle again...
Today was the kind of day you hope for as a homeschooler. Last night the kids were reminded that today meant back to business and this morning, bright and early, without a warning or threat from me, everyone was up, washed, dressed, fed, books out and studying away. Awesome! Yes, today, I was The Perfect Homeschooler. Except it was a chicken and some Boca Chick'n patties roasting away. The best part was that their father got to see it before he headed out this morning. Imagine that.
(Looking at that LAF website, I'm not sure if it's meant to be tongue-in-cheek. It definitely cracked me up. C'mon, with an acronym like that?!)
We got through all subjects in a matter of hours. G and S took to the new, more rigorous notetaking I proposed, without complaint. G even seemed to enjoy taking charge of her own work, rather than doing dictation. We began reading Dangerous Journey: The Story of Pilgrim's Progress, and after completing the one chapter I'd planned for, they begged for two more. After dinner we launched into the first three chapters of The Three Musketeers and G had to hear the next chapter of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. With those, and all the little books the baby kept passing me throughout the day (I even managed NOT to neglect her), I'm pretty much all talked out.
G picked up The Courage of Sarah Noble and is racing through it. She's a tough one. It's always tricky finding a book that matches her ability and interests, but this looks to be a good one. S picked up The Hobbit and started to read it this afternoon, in spite of me trying to dissuade her, because, Confession Time, I myself, have never read it (I can hear your sharp intake of breath) and unless we do it as a read aloud, I'm afraid I'll never get through it and the Rings books. (We haven't seen the movies either, as we were waiting to read the books first, and I'm worried now because I've been told to see it on the big screen, not on DVD. I know it makes a big difference. What's a girl to do?)
I am hoping today was not just a fluke.
------------------
How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
---Sir Henry Wotton
-------------------
Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people.
---Eleanor Roosevelt
(That's my personal yardstick. So far my average is, well, Average...)
(Looking at that LAF website, I'm not sure if it's meant to be tongue-in-cheek. It definitely cracked me up. C'mon, with an acronym like that?!)
We got through all subjects in a matter of hours. G and S took to the new, more rigorous notetaking I proposed, without complaint. G even seemed to enjoy taking charge of her own work, rather than doing dictation. We began reading Dangerous Journey: The Story of Pilgrim's Progress, and after completing the one chapter I'd planned for, they begged for two more. After dinner we launched into the first three chapters of The Three Musketeers and G had to hear the next chapter of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. With those, and all the little books the baby kept passing me throughout the day (I even managed NOT to neglect her), I'm pretty much all talked out.
G picked up The Courage of Sarah Noble and is racing through it. She's a tough one. It's always tricky finding a book that matches her ability and interests, but this looks to be a good one. S picked up The Hobbit and started to read it this afternoon, in spite of me trying to dissuade her, because, Confession Time, I myself, have never read it (I can hear your sharp intake of breath) and unless we do it as a read aloud, I'm afraid I'll never get through it and the Rings books. (We haven't seen the movies either, as we were waiting to read the books first, and I'm worried now because I've been told to see it on the big screen, not on DVD. I know it makes a big difference. What's a girl to do?)
I am hoping today was not just a fluke.
------------------
How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
---Sir Henry Wotton
-------------------
Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people.
---Eleanor Roosevelt
(That's my personal yardstick. So far my average is, well, Average...)
Saturday, January 24, 2004
I feel like a very tired tennis ball. We're back on the island, again. Had a cash offer this morning on property #2, and could close it in one week. It's a little low, but fast money. If we can pull it all together, we may be able to salvage the big house deal (#3.) Either way, the girls and I are back out here until the dust settles, and are starting back to school, for real, on Monday. Poor G will have to deal with the remainder of packing and other logistics.
Tomorrow I will be (re)organizing the three boxes of books we brought back out. We're running low on art supplies out here, except for sidewalk, or in our case, dock, chalk, and I'm not about to restock. Didn't bring my printer/scanner/copier/fax out, we can manage without that, but I also didn't bring out my real laptop, which I picked up from the totally unhelpful computer guy yesterday, and that I do need. Phone numbers, addresses, calendars, lists, everything's on it, so G will have to bring it out next time, broken or not. Also have to go in and do a big grocery shop, so that we don't have to run in and out during the week.
Our island property is also currently on the market. That will be deal #4, only if we get into the house. With the season in full swing, we are finally getting some activity, which is great, but will require me to show the place in the meantime. It's not that it's hard to keep this place clean, but it's so small, (I'm talking, each-person-in-our-family-gets-just-under-ten-square-feet-of-floorspace-to-call-their-own, small) that any one thing out of place can make it seem messy, and all those books and papers and pencils and projects... Just something else to keep me busy.
Please keep your fingers crossed (or whatever)... This could all be over for us, one way or another, by the end of February. All this moving and change of plans has been pretty stressful for everyone involved and we are all looking forward to a little permanency.
As much as we're ready to settle down, though, we're still a bit apprehensive about living back in a regular, old neighborhood again. When we lived out on the farm, without any neighbors in sight, we worried that the kids would never have any friends, never be able to ride their bikes or rollerskate around the block, etc., so we moved into an upscale neighborhood, on the most fashionable street, just blocks from the beach. Once we started meeting the neighbors, we found out that we really didn't want the kids associating with them after all. Mostly a bunch of ignorant, shallow people. (Oops, there's that darned elitism again.)
After four years of that, we planned to opt out for Australia, and go live back in the bush. Meanwhile, we discovered the monkey wrench, I mean, the island, and decided to disappear out here. Friends laugh when I tell them that even this seems a bit too suburban for me, but it does. How will we fare back in General Population?
-------------------
Has anyone else seen Boohbah on PBS? If the Teletubbies disturbed some viewers' sensibilities, wait 'til they get a load of these. Do they actually consider this educational?
-------------------
Off to search for Rolaids. Sure hope there's a bottle out here. G'night all.
Tomorrow I will be (re)organizing the three boxes of books we brought back out. We're running low on art supplies out here, except for sidewalk, or in our case, dock, chalk, and I'm not about to restock. Didn't bring my printer/scanner/copier/fax out, we can manage without that, but I also didn't bring out my real laptop, which I picked up from the totally unhelpful computer guy yesterday, and that I do need. Phone numbers, addresses, calendars, lists, everything's on it, so G will have to bring it out next time, broken or not. Also have to go in and do a big grocery shop, so that we don't have to run in and out during the week.
Our island property is also currently on the market. That will be deal #4, only if we get into the house. With the season in full swing, we are finally getting some activity, which is great, but will require me to show the place in the meantime. It's not that it's hard to keep this place clean, but it's so small, (I'm talking, each-person-in-our-family-gets-just-under-ten-square-feet-of-floorspace-to-call-their-own, small) that any one thing out of place can make it seem messy, and all those books and papers and pencils and projects... Just something else to keep me busy.
Please keep your fingers crossed (or whatever)... This could all be over for us, one way or another, by the end of February. All this moving and change of plans has been pretty stressful for everyone involved and we are all looking forward to a little permanency.
As much as we're ready to settle down, though, we're still a bit apprehensive about living back in a regular, old neighborhood again. When we lived out on the farm, without any neighbors in sight, we worried that the kids would never have any friends, never be able to ride their bikes or rollerskate around the block, etc., so we moved into an upscale neighborhood, on the most fashionable street, just blocks from the beach. Once we started meeting the neighbors, we found out that we really didn't want the kids associating with them after all. Mostly a bunch of ignorant, shallow people. (Oops, there's that darned elitism again.)
After four years of that, we planned to opt out for Australia, and go live back in the bush. Meanwhile, we discovered the monkey wrench, I mean, the island, and decided to disappear out here. Friends laugh when I tell them that even this seems a bit too suburban for me, but it does. How will we fare back in General Population?
-------------------
Has anyone else seen Boohbah on PBS? If the Teletubbies disturbed some viewers' sensibilities, wait 'til they get a load of these. Do they actually consider this educational?
-------------------
Off to search for Rolaids. Sure hope there's a bottle out here. G'night all.
This is what I'm sure many of my friends and family envision when they think of us homeschooling. HA!
(This picture was taken around 10:30 AM, September 11, 2001. We were enjoying ourselves at the Morris Museum, in Morristown, NJ, blissfully unaware of the horror occurring at the World Trade Center.)
Sally Mae
Here is the ragdoll S and G made for their little sister, from scraps of fabric. This saved me the trouble of having to create two quilts for our Colonial American hands-on project (whew.) I thought it was very clever the way they used the same red, dotted dress fabric, but turned it inside out for the skin.
Friday, January 23, 2004
Worthy of a U-turn
Driving up to my parents' house today, to temporarily store some clothes during our move, I mentioned to the girls how I just realized that my eyes were starting to go, now that I'm officially approaching the top of the hill...(shudder) Not blurry, but not their usual sharp focus. No sooner had I finished saying that, when I thought I saw a man biking towards us, with a hamster on his head. Yup, that's what it looked like. I told the kids and they howled. First chance I had, I whipped the car around and went back for a second look. It was a guy, with some sort of rodent, riding on top of his head. I have witnesses.
This one goes in the file along with the five guys we saw at an intersection, removing a flat tire from their car's rim, with a chainsaw.
See? Life in South Florida has its up-side, too.
This one goes in the file along with the five guys we saw at an intersection, removing a flat tire from their car's rim, with a chainsaw.
See? Life in South Florida has its up-side, too.
The Passion of the Christ
I am so looking forward to seeing this. Not because I'm a particularly religious person, but because:
1) All the reviews I've read so far seem to agree that this is a masterpiece. From the casting and acting, to the cinematography and direction.
2) It's been labeled 'controversial.' If it supposedly follows the gospel, where's the controversy?
3) It's a big one. G is not a movie fan. He can't bear sitting still for so long, so he'll only voluntarily go see the really big, arty, Oscar/International Film Festival award candidates. I'll get a night out.
4) Mel Gibson, Director. We're big fans of Braveheart here.
Will I take the girls? Hmmmmm. Not L for sure, but probably the two older girls, although, I may preview it. They've enjoyed movies with 'grown-up' themes before ("Life Is Beautiful", "Braveheart", "Whale Rider", among others) and seem able to understand the concepts and discuss them in a fairly mature way. As for violence, we're realists. If it's in a historical context, okay. Gratuitous, no. (I guess that justifies watching "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" for our Medieval studies, right?!)
I know some people will disagree and feel that children should always be sheltered from the uglier things in life; that they will learn soon enough how violent life can be, but hey, we live in South Florida.
Just kidding, sort of... We've been in a restaurant where guns were pulled during an argument (over someone cutting in the pony ride line, no less); lost a few friends to murders; been burglarized, twice; had a homicide victim turn up in our front yard... I could go on, but I think you get the point: My kids have already had their eyes opened to the harsher realities of life.
This story has so much meaning, for so many people, and the violence is an integral part. Believer or not, I think it's important to see it, and let them see it as well. The Passion of the Christ.
1) All the reviews I've read so far seem to agree that this is a masterpiece. From the casting and acting, to the cinematography and direction.
2) It's been labeled 'controversial.' If it supposedly follows the gospel, where's the controversy?
3) It's a big one. G is not a movie fan. He can't bear sitting still for so long, so he'll only voluntarily go see the really big, arty, Oscar/International Film Festival award candidates. I'll get a night out.
4) Mel Gibson, Director. We're big fans of Braveheart here.
Will I take the girls? Hmmmmm. Not L for sure, but probably the two older girls, although, I may preview it. They've enjoyed movies with 'grown-up' themes before ("Life Is Beautiful", "Braveheart", "Whale Rider", among others) and seem able to understand the concepts and discuss them in a fairly mature way. As for violence, we're realists. If it's in a historical context, okay. Gratuitous, no. (I guess that justifies watching "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" for our Medieval studies, right?!)
I know some people will disagree and feel that children should always be sheltered from the uglier things in life; that they will learn soon enough how violent life can be, but hey, we live in South Florida.
Just kidding, sort of... We've been in a restaurant where guns were pulled during an argument (over someone cutting in the pony ride line, no less); lost a few friends to murders; been burglarized, twice; had a homicide victim turn up in our front yard... I could go on, but I think you get the point: My kids have already had their eyes opened to the harsher realities of life.
This story has so much meaning, for so many people, and the violence is an integral part. Believer or not, I think it's important to see it, and let them see it as well. The Passion of the Christ.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
Playmobil and Art Appreciation
Last year for Christmas, Santa brought G the completely furnished, six-room Victorian Playmobil dollhouse. She was not as excited initially as I'd expected, and concerned because her dollhouse, unlike her sister's, was plastic. Once they discovered how versatile the thousands of little pieces were, their imaginations took off and it has been played with nearly everyday since.
As a child, I loved my Fisher Price little people, and with my friend Bonnie, whose family owned two of every single building ever made, one for her and one for her brother, would set up elaborate towns and play for days. But they always did regular everyday things.
Not so these Playmobil people...
These dollhouse people all have names and very distinct personalities. Their adventures have included being child slaves sold in a market, racing in the Paris to Dakkar Rally, visiting other planets and being contestants on "Survivor." They have pretended to be Lyra and Will (from Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy), and Harry, Ron and Hermione, all while keeping in their own character. Not exactly your regular, everyday type stuff.
Yesterday their little people were artists. The artists were set up in front of their 'live' models, who were posed, draped across various pieces of furniture. My daughters spent quite a bit of time with colored pencils, creating tiny little works of art to place on the improvised easels, drawn so that the subjects exactly resembled their Playmobil models: unblinking dot eyes, eternal smiles, stiff limbs and all. But the subject matter, that's what surprised me... Think Manet's "Olympia", and Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam", from the Sistine Chapel. And yes, these were rendered (gasp) anatomically correct.
You know how it feels when you're screaming laughing on the inside, but trying to maintain a calm facade? That was me.
These are definitely going in the portfolio.
As a child, I loved my Fisher Price little people, and with my friend Bonnie, whose family owned two of every single building ever made, one for her and one for her brother, would set up elaborate towns and play for days. But they always did regular everyday things.
Not so these Playmobil people...
These dollhouse people all have names and very distinct personalities. Their adventures have included being child slaves sold in a market, racing in the Paris to Dakkar Rally, visiting other planets and being contestants on "Survivor." They have pretended to be Lyra and Will (from Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy), and Harry, Ron and Hermione, all while keeping in their own character. Not exactly your regular, everyday type stuff.
Yesterday their little people were artists. The artists were set up in front of their 'live' models, who were posed, draped across various pieces of furniture. My daughters spent quite a bit of time with colored pencils, creating tiny little works of art to place on the improvised easels, drawn so that the subjects exactly resembled their Playmobil models: unblinking dot eyes, eternal smiles, stiff limbs and all. But the subject matter, that's what surprised me... Think Manet's "Olympia", and Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam", from the Sistine Chapel. And yes, these were rendered (gasp) anatomically correct.
You know how it feels when you're screaming laughing on the inside, but trying to maintain a calm facade? That was me.
These are definitely going in the portfolio.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Canada
The recent WTM thread on the benefits of Canadian life got this potential ex-pat thinking. Socialized medicine, liberal politics, stable government, clean environment, sounds great. Why didn't we ever add Canada to our list of relocation options?! We could even drive there!
Oh, right, [head slap] because it's FREEZING 10 1/2 months out of the year. Nevermind.
Oh, right, [head slap] because it's FREEZING 10 1/2 months out of the year. Nevermind.
Curriculum Envy
I caught myself doing it again yesterday. While packing up the bookshelves and doing some necessary culling, I started taking a second look at some of the materials I've accumulated. "Oh, maybe we should switch back to this for Grammar...", "Maybe we could combine these..." And when I listed a few goodies on TWTM Swap Board, I actually found myself shopping again.
[Sound of brakes squealing]
No way! There's a reason these items have been taking up valuable shelf space for so long. There's a reason we prefer, say, Easy Grammar to Abeka. I'm not going to get caught in the trap of always looking for the 'perfect' curriculum. Need a more rigorous Grammar course? Maybe, but this one works for now. Besides, I already own Harvey's when we get to that point. I refuse to use two or more complementary Math programs; one is enough. And I don't care if it's fun or not. Was Math fun when you were going to school? Bet you still learned it. Should it be fun? Can Math ever really be fun?
Can you tell I've read Amusing Ourselves to Death?
Anyway, I'm not second-guessing myself anymore. Careful research and planning was already done, with materials selected for their completeness and ease of transition and preparation for advanced courses. That's not to say, I'm not open to new ideas. In fact right now, one of my favorite 'new' ideas is the return to a fundamental, autodidactic education along the lines of Ben Franklin's. I simply will not waste anymore time obsessively debating the pros and cons of every single curriculum out there. The first step is to wean myself from habitually visiting TWTM's Curriculum Board.
OK, rant over, back to packing.
[Sound of brakes squealing]
No way! There's a reason these items have been taking up valuable shelf space for so long. There's a reason we prefer, say, Easy Grammar to Abeka. I'm not going to get caught in the trap of always looking for the 'perfect' curriculum. Need a more rigorous Grammar course? Maybe, but this one works for now. Besides, I already own Harvey's when we get to that point. I refuse to use two or more complementary Math programs; one is enough. And I don't care if it's fun or not. Was Math fun when you were going to school? Bet you still learned it. Should it be fun? Can Math ever really be fun?
Can you tell I've read Amusing Ourselves to Death?
Anyway, I'm not second-guessing myself anymore. Careful research and planning was already done, with materials selected for their completeness and ease of transition and preparation for advanced courses. That's not to say, I'm not open to new ideas. In fact right now, one of my favorite 'new' ideas is the return to a fundamental, autodidactic education along the lines of Ben Franklin's. I simply will not waste anymore time obsessively debating the pros and cons of every single curriculum out there. The first step is to wean myself from habitually visiting TWTM's Curriculum Board.
OK, rant over, back to packing.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Et cetera
My poor brother, (yes, I finally spoke with him, and yes, I was even sensitive and supportive) is again in the midst of nasty legal maneuvers with his ex-wife.
He was told the girls' relocation to England was scheduled for the spring. The official date was just made known to him via the attorney: February 28. Obviously, education is not a priority of my ex-SIL, who has yanked the girls out of two other schools already this past year, and who has them believing that February 28 is spring.
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My older girls have been invited to join their grandparents on a train trip up to NJ to see their beloved cousins one more time before they head overseas. I don't know if this is going to happen or not, yet. We had already planned a grand field trip with the grandparents, in the springtime, up the east coast to visit as many colonial American sites as possible, culminating in a visit with the cousins, who were to join us on the return for a visit to Washington DC. It won't be the same...
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My girls saved me from a load of guilt this past week. Our big project for colonial studies was quilting. What the !@#$% was I thinking?! I'm a little crafty, but have no patience once I've mastered a skill. I seriously thought I was going to complete two lap quilts, simultaneously, before the end of the year!
Out of the blue, S and G decided to sew a ragdoll for their little sister. "Sally Mae" is extremely cute and I will post a picture as soon as possible.
He was told the girls' relocation to England was scheduled for the spring. The official date was just made known to him via the attorney: February 28. Obviously, education is not a priority of my ex-SIL, who has yanked the girls out of two other schools already this past year, and who has them believing that February 28 is spring.
----------------------
My older girls have been invited to join their grandparents on a train trip up to NJ to see their beloved cousins one more time before they head overseas. I don't know if this is going to happen or not, yet. We had already planned a grand field trip with the grandparents, in the springtime, up the east coast to visit as many colonial American sites as possible, culminating in a visit with the cousins, who were to join us on the return for a visit to Washington DC. It won't be the same...
----------------------
My girls saved me from a load of guilt this past week. Our big project for colonial studies was quilting. What the !@#$% was I thinking?! I'm a little crafty, but have no patience once I've mastered a skill. I seriously thought I was going to complete two lap quilts, simultaneously, before the end of the year!
Out of the blue, S and G decided to sew a ragdoll for their little sister. "Sally Mae" is extremely cute and I will post a picture as soon as possible.
Today's the Day
We are back on the east coast again. Spent the day yesterday visiting my parents and finally saw the proofs from our family photo session. My mother and father had me, my two brothers, all our spouses and children pose for one of those silly, coordinated outfit photos, down on the beach a few weeks ago while everybody was in town for the holidays. We then took individual family unit photos as well. Ours is just OK, not very professional looking, no better than a regular snapshot. A little Photoshop for shadow correction and increased sharpness and it should be about right (I promise NOT to shave off any extra flesh.) Photography is one of my hobbies, and I'm picky. I may even post it, unedited, in the WTM photo file. For some reason, the photographer selected the proofs we should see, rather than including every shot, so I'm waiting for the balance of our little family's pictures. The best shot by far, was my parents with all six of their beautiful granddaughters.
Incidentally, my youngest brother's wife is pregnant again and they are hoping for a boy to break the chain of girls. I think having all girls is so much more interesting. But don't look for me to continue this winning streak, it's all on my brother and sister-in-law now.
The computer repair guy hasn't even looked at my laptop yet. When I called to check on it yesterday, he gave me that good news. Then he promised to look at it immediately and call me back before the end of the day. Surprise, surprise, no call.
Scholastic is having a big warehouse sale beginning this Friday and my shopping list with price comparisons for the next part of our studies is on a spreadsheet on my laptop. I may have to go pick it up today, fixed or not.
We are currently following Tapestry of Grace's framework for our studies and are in Year 2, Unit 3, which covers colonial America, with plans on finishing up through Unit 4: The Age of Revolutions. I want to scout the Scholastic sale for any bargains in the Year 3 Plan (Napolean's World, The Birth of the Modern, Nations Dividing and Uniting, and The Gilded Age.)
Are you wondering how a self-professed secular home educator could use this particular curriculum? Well, we follow the plan for History and Literature, skip their Church History (in favor of a more balanced look at world religions within history), and use the Writing, which ties in nicely with the history. Their checklists of Major Themes, People, Vocabulary, Time Line Dates and Geography are very helpful and keep me from missing important points. The kids enjoy the Group Activity and Hands On Project suggestions, of which there are loads. The history and literature discussion questions and various worksheets are where the editing comes in. Providential thinking is very strong throughout TOG, but so far I've chosen to include it where it pertains to our founding fathers, if that was their particular way of thinking, and to point out to the children that believing our country is the ultimate end result of God's hand throughout history, is just a different religious viewpoint, and we use it for comparison. Teaching respect and tolerance for others' beliefs is important to us.
Like I really need more books though.
Today's the day we begin moving in the direction of Plan B, which is to bail out of our spacious dreamhome deal and make the island our primary, permanent home. Today, I start packing books. By the end of the week, I should have the books and clothes under control and the girls and I will head back over to the island, for good this time, I hope.
Incidentally, my youngest brother's wife is pregnant again and they are hoping for a boy to break the chain of girls. I think having all girls is so much more interesting. But don't look for me to continue this winning streak, it's all on my brother and sister-in-law now.
The computer repair guy hasn't even looked at my laptop yet. When I called to check on it yesterday, he gave me that good news. Then he promised to look at it immediately and call me back before the end of the day. Surprise, surprise, no call.
Scholastic is having a big warehouse sale beginning this Friday and my shopping list with price comparisons for the next part of our studies is on a spreadsheet on my laptop. I may have to go pick it up today, fixed or not.
We are currently following Tapestry of Grace's framework for our studies and are in Year 2, Unit 3, which covers colonial America, with plans on finishing up through Unit 4: The Age of Revolutions. I want to scout the Scholastic sale for any bargains in the Year 3 Plan (Napolean's World, The Birth of the Modern, Nations Dividing and Uniting, and The Gilded Age.)
Are you wondering how a self-professed secular home educator could use this particular curriculum? Well, we follow the plan for History and Literature, skip their Church History (in favor of a more balanced look at world religions within history), and use the Writing, which ties in nicely with the history. Their checklists of Major Themes, People, Vocabulary, Time Line Dates and Geography are very helpful and keep me from missing important points. The kids enjoy the Group Activity and Hands On Project suggestions, of which there are loads. The history and literature discussion questions and various worksheets are where the editing comes in. Providential thinking is very strong throughout TOG, but so far I've chosen to include it where it pertains to our founding fathers, if that was their particular way of thinking, and to point out to the children that believing our country is the ultimate end result of God's hand throughout history, is just a different religious viewpoint, and we use it for comparison. Teaching respect and tolerance for others' beliefs is important to us.
Like I really need more books though.
Today's the day we begin moving in the direction of Plan B, which is to bail out of our spacious dreamhome deal and make the island our primary, permanent home. Today, I start packing books. By the end of the week, I should have the books and clothes under control and the girls and I will head back over to the island, for good this time, I hope.
Saturday, January 17, 2004
My husband, the terrorist
A few months back, my husband G, and eldest daughter, S, rode out to our farm, on the edge of the Everglades, to drop off a trailer. While they were out there, S asked her dad if they could please-please-please ride the four-wheeler, and G, ever the fun guy, agreed. Instead of just staying on our acreage as my daughter insisted, for fear of being stuck in the mud, G decided it would be much more exciting to take a ride across the street, where there were various tracks through the woods. Boy was he right.
Our tenant and her son decided to join them on their three-wheeler, so all four headed out for a twilight ride.
Along the way, S's worst fear was realized, when they sunk in a particularly mucky spot and slowly rolled over, covering both her and her dad, head to toe, in black mud.
It is not unusual to see helicopters out there in the 'glades with searchlights sweeping. There is a women's prison nearby, it is a perennial favorite dumping place for various criminal activities, and when we lived out there, we were occasionally awakened by the Broward Sheriff's Office helicopter surreptitiously checking out the contents of our greenhouses under cover of darkness, so they were not especially concerned when a helicopter hovered over and spotlighted them. They even waved hello.
As they exited the woods, they were astonished to see five sheriff's cars pulled across the entrance to our farm, and deputies, with guns drawn, ordering them to halt.
Seems that each municipality has its high priority areas, targeted for surveillance against terrorists. G and party were riding out near a critical Florida Power & Light substation and underneath the powerlines, and had stumbled into this protected zone. That was an FBI helicopter they had been waving at.
G explained what they had been doing, and then deputies explained that since Federal agents were involved, their hands were tied, and somebody was going to jail, as ridiculous as it seemed to them. At this point, it could've gotten ugly. If they had decided to take our tenant in too, the children would have been handed over to the Department of Children and Families. They elected to just write her a Notice to Appear and allowed her to keep the kids. My husband was not so lucky. He was handcuffed, charged with suspicion of terrorism, and taken to the nearest station.
Either nobody knew what to do with this suspected terrorist, or nobody wanted the stinking, black muck-covered man in their police station, because he was transferred to several other locations before ultimately ending up in the downtown Fort Lauderdale jail, where he spent the night.
In the end, everything turned out alright. He pleaded no contest (he was actually guilty of trespassing on FPL property) and ordered to pay court costs. S was not too traumatized, and learned an interesting lesson about the current political atmosphere and justice system.
Sort of funny, but not just "ha ha" funny; funny in an odd way, too. Makes you wonder about the Patriot Act and all the other little erosions of our rights, doesn't it?
Our tenant and her son decided to join them on their three-wheeler, so all four headed out for a twilight ride.
Along the way, S's worst fear was realized, when they sunk in a particularly mucky spot and slowly rolled over, covering both her and her dad, head to toe, in black mud.
It is not unusual to see helicopters out there in the 'glades with searchlights sweeping. There is a women's prison nearby, it is a perennial favorite dumping place for various criminal activities, and when we lived out there, we were occasionally awakened by the Broward Sheriff's Office helicopter surreptitiously checking out the contents of our greenhouses under cover of darkness, so they were not especially concerned when a helicopter hovered over and spotlighted them. They even waved hello.
As they exited the woods, they were astonished to see five sheriff's cars pulled across the entrance to our farm, and deputies, with guns drawn, ordering them to halt.
Seems that each municipality has its high priority areas, targeted for surveillance against terrorists. G and party were riding out near a critical Florida Power & Light substation and underneath the powerlines, and had stumbled into this protected zone. That was an FBI helicopter they had been waving at.
G explained what they had been doing, and then deputies explained that since Federal agents were involved, their hands were tied, and somebody was going to jail, as ridiculous as it seemed to them. At this point, it could've gotten ugly. If they had decided to take our tenant in too, the children would have been handed over to the Department of Children and Families. They elected to just write her a Notice to Appear and allowed her to keep the kids. My husband was not so lucky. He was handcuffed, charged with suspicion of terrorism, and taken to the nearest station.
Either nobody knew what to do with this suspected terrorist, or nobody wanted the stinking, black muck-covered man in their police station, because he was transferred to several other locations before ultimately ending up in the downtown Fort Lauderdale jail, where he spent the night.
In the end, everything turned out alright. He pleaded no contest (he was actually guilty of trespassing on FPL property) and ordered to pay court costs. S was not too traumatized, and learned an interesting lesson about the current political atmosphere and justice system.
Sort of funny, but not just "ha ha" funny; funny in an odd way, too. Makes you wonder about the Patriot Act and all the other little erosions of our rights, doesn't it?
I'm not particulary political. I am registered "No Party Affiliation", so while I miss out on the primaries, I can vote for the candidate who comes closest to promoting life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. (HA!) A non-partisan stance also gives me the ability and pleasure to laugh at all sides, equally.
Check out this hilarious spot on Bush and Medicare, down the left-hand column. Brilliant!
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I know some of you will be scandalized by this question, but, is this Superbowl weekend? I have no idea, and thankfully, neither does my husband. We are only concerned because "Survivor" premieres afterward (and what a great season it promises to be.) We justify this indulgence in pop culture by considering it a lesson in geography, sociology, and psychology.
Oh, okay, I see by the link that it's not this weekend. It's on February 1 -- I can hardly wait!
Check out this hilarious spot on Bush and Medicare, down the left-hand column. Brilliant!
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I know some of you will be scandalized by this question, but, is this Superbowl weekend? I have no idea, and thankfully, neither does my husband. We are only concerned because "Survivor" premieres afterward (and what a great season it promises to be.) We justify this indulgence in pop culture by considering it a lesson in geography, sociology, and psychology.
Oh, okay, I see by the link that it's not this weekend. It's on February 1 -- I can hardly wait!
Friday, January 16, 2004
What is taking so long?!
My laptop has been in the shop for about a week and half now. I have been waiting to hear if all my documents (all those elaborate spreadsheets of school plans and booklists and oh, I don't even want to think about it...) and portfolio pictures could be retrieved and saved. Oh sure, as each of my systems began shutting down, I was lucky to rescue family photos, but was I quick enough to save years worth of digital photography work? Nope. Looks like I might end up with my old manual 35mm and real B&W film again -- at least I'll have something to show for it. Also looks like my younger brother, who has been waiting two years for his wedding present, a totally fabricated, Photoshop portrait of the happy couple and all six flower girls, meant to be handcolored, will have to wait a little longer. Or maybe I'll just actually spring for a gift; it sure would be easier to buy a place setting in their china pattern (and probably appreciated more by them anyway...) No news is NOT good news.
On the up side, I have, quite possibly, the coolest mother-in-law, who has given me a spare laptop in the interim because she knows the importance of staying online. One day though, I will get mine back and start loading some pictures onto this blog and updating the linked webpages.
Which brings me to: How to customize this blog. It's so standard-issue. The large type is driving me crazy and the italic is much too distorted. The limited CSS info available via Blogger isn't helping. Tips appreciated. BTW, said MIL once gave me a book on HTML code...thought I would have fun with it. Shoulda paid more attention.
On the up side, I have, quite possibly, the coolest mother-in-law, who has given me a spare laptop in the interim because she knows the importance of staying online. One day though, I will get mine back and start loading some pictures onto this blog and updating the linked webpages.
Which brings me to: How to customize this blog. It's so standard-issue. The large type is driving me crazy and the italic is much too distorted. The limited CSS info available via Blogger isn't helping. Tips appreciated. BTW, said MIL once gave me a book on HTML code...thought I would have fun with it. Shoulda paid more attention.
Muzak hath charms to soothe the savage breast
G spent the day putting the metal roof on the girls' clubhouse. When I went outside to check for any last minute requests before heading into town, imagine my shock and horror to hear my usually classic rock/alternative music-listening husband jamming to some easy listening. He heard me snickering and defended his choice, saying it was relaxing. Oh my.
A few minutes later when I got to the marina and into my car, I turned the ignition and was subjected to an instrumental medley from "Camelot." He was actually driving around yesterday doing his errands with this station on. The poor guy has truly lost his mind.
A few minutes later when I got to the marina and into my car, I turned the ignition and was subjected to an instrumental medley from "Camelot." He was actually driving around yesterday doing his errands with this station on. The poor guy has truly lost his mind.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Books on Florida
We love our homestate of Florida. Not the touristy, themeparky, Jimmy-Buffetty* shlock that most people identify with Florida, but the real Florida. Old Florida. I'm a native, married to a native from a family of South Florida pioneers. I just added links to some of the books we have on Florida, in my sidebar.
Also, to get a hilarious, true sense of Florida these days, read any fiction by my hero, Carl Hiaasen (whose dream is to be banned forever from Disney World.) His collections of non-fiction are equally good.
My oldest daughter (born as Hurricane Andrew tore through town -- as if giving birth the first time wasn't exciting enough) wants me to add a disclaimer: The book on Jose Gaspar is NOT for children; lots of 'sailor talk'. (Oops, I obviously didn't pre-read this one.)
Enjoy.
* Attention Parrotheads: I can certainly appreciate a well-crafted lyric and tune, and boy, Jimmy's sure got some great ones, BUT, it drives me crazy to have to hear, for example, "Margaritaville"...every...single...time...I visit a rawbar or any outdoor restaurant within 10 miles of the coast. So cliche. I think Jimmy would agree.
Also, to get a hilarious, true sense of Florida these days, read any fiction by my hero, Carl Hiaasen (whose dream is to be banned forever from Disney World.) His collections of non-fiction are equally good.
My oldest daughter (born as Hurricane Andrew tore through town -- as if giving birth the first time wasn't exciting enough) wants me to add a disclaimer: The book on Jose Gaspar is NOT for children; lots of 'sailor talk'. (Oops, I obviously didn't pre-read this one.)
Enjoy.
* Attention Parrotheads: I can certainly appreciate a well-crafted lyric and tune, and boy, Jimmy's sure got some great ones, BUT, it drives me crazy to have to hear, for example, "Margaritaville"...every...single...time...I visit a rawbar or any outdoor restaurant within 10 miles of the coast. So cliche. I think Jimmy would agree.
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Complications
To anybody who has known us for a few years, this will come as no surprise...
Here's where we're at: One closing down, two to go. The second closing is the critical one, and today the call came. It doesn't look good, the buyers' financing fell apart.
If we can't get this second deal to close, we can't close the third, which is the purchase of the aforementioned adequately-sized house. Boo. We all fell instantly in love with this beautiful, historic Mediterranean Revival, and left a hefty non-refundable deposit. Ouch.
So, our plans may change. Again.
The plan du jour: We stay here at the island, screen in the porch, tack on a quick addition and start putting up accessory buildings.
Certainly not a bad option to fall back on. This is a pretty perfect place to live and homeschool, that's for sure. The two years we spent out were great, except for the fact that G could only visit on weekends due to his work commitments. But he's finally available, so we could be a full-time family this time around.
We just need MORE ROOM, or, more specifically, more bookshelves.
I am sooooo ready to get back on track with our studies.
We'll see what happens...
Here's where we're at: One closing down, two to go. The second closing is the critical one, and today the call came. It doesn't look good, the buyers' financing fell apart.
If we can't get this second deal to close, we can't close the third, which is the purchase of the aforementioned adequately-sized house. Boo. We all fell instantly in love with this beautiful, historic Mediterranean Revival, and left a hefty non-refundable deposit. Ouch.
So, our plans may change. Again.
The plan du jour: We stay here at the island, screen in the porch, tack on a quick addition and start putting up accessory buildings.
Certainly not a bad option to fall back on. This is a pretty perfect place to live and homeschool, that's for sure. The two years we spent out were great, except for the fact that G could only visit on weekends due to his work commitments. But he's finally available, so we could be a full-time family this time around.
We just need MORE ROOM, or, more specifically, more bookshelves.
I am sooooo ready to get back on track with our studies.
We'll see what happens...
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Etcetera
I just went to check if there were lists of textbooks used by our county school system available online (nope), after someone recommended Glencoe as a comprehensive science texts for secular folk, and to find out when the next book depository sale is (March 10.)
The header on their website states: "Broward County Public Schools" (and, underneath), "Transforming education one student at a time". Sheesh, is that why it's taking so long?
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Had a tearful call from my mother asking me to give my brother a ring; he's having another rough spell and needs someone to boost him up. Yes, the poor guy has been through hell, with uncovering his wife's affair and 15+ years of lies and theft, discovering she had bankrupted him, subsequent divorce, getting the short end of the stick in a nasty child custody fight, and the constant harassment by her and her new husband, plus losing his job and a brief hospitalization for a nervous breakdown, all over the past year or so. But I thought it was all behind us and he was getting back on his feet.
I was wrong. Now the ex is planning to take his children to live in England for two years. We are back to Square One.
I love my brother, but there's only so much I can give. I need to preserve my mental health for the sake of my kids. He never takes the voluminous good advice offered by his supporters (or his medication apparently); he always seems to take some irrational, offensive, immature, or spiteful tack and, quite frankly, his depression is contagious. How can I be expected to help him when he won't even try to help himself?
I'm afraid my only advice would be, "Grow up. Face the facts. Get over it. Stop wallowing in self-pity." I probably shouldn't call. I'm a mean, rotten sister.
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Hurray! We finished The Scarlet Letter
In keeping with the color theme, I think our next read-aloud will be The Scarlet Pimpernel
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The girls just raced in, breathless with news of huge paw prints in the mud. Sure enough, there are very large, fresh tracks in front of our house, at the water's edge. They are definitely not raccoon prints, as there are clearly identifiable raccoon prints nearby to compare them to. Much larger, and no nail marks. There is supposed to be a panther on our end of the island (more likely a bobcat) and even though it's possible as we are up against a state park, we were always skeptical. Even after losing a few cats... Two neighbors claim to have spotted it drinking fresh water out of buckets left by their doors for rinsing sandy feet. I'd like to believe the poor thing could survive the rampant development over the years. Maybe, finally, some evidence?
The header on their website states: "Broward County Public Schools" (and, underneath), "Transforming education one student at a time". Sheesh, is that why it's taking so long?
--------------------
Had a tearful call from my mother asking me to give my brother a ring; he's having another rough spell and needs someone to boost him up. Yes, the poor guy has been through hell, with uncovering his wife's affair and 15+ years of lies and theft, discovering she had bankrupted him, subsequent divorce, getting the short end of the stick in a nasty child custody fight, and the constant harassment by her and her new husband, plus losing his job and a brief hospitalization for a nervous breakdown, all over the past year or so. But I thought it was all behind us and he was getting back on his feet.
I was wrong. Now the ex is planning to take his children to live in England for two years. We are back to Square One.
I love my brother, but there's only so much I can give. I need to preserve my mental health for the sake of my kids. He never takes the voluminous good advice offered by his supporters (or his medication apparently); he always seems to take some irrational, offensive, immature, or spiteful tack and, quite frankly, his depression is contagious. How can I be expected to help him when he won't even try to help himself?
I'm afraid my only advice would be, "Grow up. Face the facts. Get over it. Stop wallowing in self-pity." I probably shouldn't call. I'm a mean, rotten sister.
----------------------
Hurray! We finished The Scarlet Letter
In keeping with the color theme, I think our next read-aloud will be The Scarlet Pimpernel
----------------------
The girls just raced in, breathless with news of huge paw prints in the mud. Sure enough, there are very large, fresh tracks in front of our house, at the water's edge. They are definitely not raccoon prints, as there are clearly identifiable raccoon prints nearby to compare them to. Much larger, and no nail marks. There is supposed to be a panther on our end of the island (more likely a bobcat) and even though it's possible as we are up against a state park, we were always skeptical. Even after losing a few cats... Two neighbors claim to have spotted it drinking fresh water out of buckets left by their doors for rinsing sandy feet. I'd like to believe the poor thing could survive the rampant development over the years. Maybe, finally, some evidence?
A beautiful, sparkling day
We're on-island for a few days. Today was a marvelous day: cornflower blue sky, warm sun and the occasional cool puff of a breeze, just enough to rustle the sabal fronds. I love that sound. The girls alternated between playing outside and taking turns on the computer. Yes, taking turns, and with minimal input from me. I know, I know, it's probably just a phase they're going through, this being nice to each other, but I'll appreciate it no matter how short-lived it may be.
Tonight we nearly finished The Scarlet Letter. With three chapters to go and the story nearing its climax, I called it a night and readied them for bed, but they begged me to continue, so we squeezed in one more chapter before their little eyelids started drooping. I must say, this is not one of our easier read-alouds. Hawthorne's sentences can be very long and convoluted; the phrasing is hard to get right sometimes. I am so amazed that they are actually enjoying the story.
The winds are picking up and the sound of rustling palms is making me sleepy.
Tonight we nearly finished The Scarlet Letter. With three chapters to go and the story nearing its climax, I called it a night and readied them for bed, but they begged me to continue, so we squeezed in one more chapter before their little eyelids started drooping. I must say, this is not one of our easier read-alouds. Hawthorne's sentences can be very long and convoluted; the phrasing is hard to get right sometimes. I am so amazed that they are actually enjoying the story.
The winds are picking up and the sound of rustling palms is making me sleepy.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Why?
Statistically, this could be a mid-life crisis.
After perusing several posts over on TWTM board, I've been tossing and turning, trying to figure out why I educate my children the way I do. Do we need to teach anything beyond, say, The Golden Rule, and "To thine own self be true"?
What is the point of all this learning? You can't take it with you. Sure, you can pass it on, but for what purpose? Open your mind to all these great thoughts and do what with them? Save the world?
Would a life devoid of the contemplation of art, literature, history or philosophy be less valid, or valuable?
Financial gain is selfish, vain and shallow. Elevating yourself from the masses is elitist. Knowledge for its own sake is pretentious and self-aggrandizing. So, what then?
Maybe the only thing my children will take from this, will be what I have found so far... Questions.
Archaeology of Criticism doesn't answer these questions exactly, but more eloquently states many of my concerns. More food for thought...(sigh)
After perusing several posts over on TWTM board, I've been tossing and turning, trying to figure out why I educate my children the way I do. Do we need to teach anything beyond, say, The Golden Rule, and "To thine own self be true"?
What is the point of all this learning? You can't take it with you. Sure, you can pass it on, but for what purpose? Open your mind to all these great thoughts and do what with them? Save the world?
Would a life devoid of the contemplation of art, literature, history or philosophy be less valid, or valuable?
Financial gain is selfish, vain and shallow. Elevating yourself from the masses is elitist. Knowledge for its own sake is pretentious and self-aggrandizing. So, what then?
Maybe the only thing my children will take from this, will be what I have found so far... Questions.
Archaeology of Criticism doesn't answer these questions exactly, but more eloquently states many of my concerns. More food for thought...(sigh)
Saturday, January 10, 2004
Little ears
A few weeks ago I finished Fast Food Nation. Highly recommend it. Kept reading sections outloud for my husband's benefit ("Listen to this...!") Everyone in our household is usually within earshot, and my older girls' interest was piqued by the part on slaughterhouse accidents, and the health of the cattle.
They are both now vegetarians (or more accurately, cheese-atarians) and have recently been delighting in telling their little sister, as she begs for a cheeseburger from 'Old MacDonald's', that, "you don't want that, there's people in there!" and then graphically describing where hamburger comes from.
Exit baby, hands clapped over ears, shouting "NO! NO! NO! You're jokin' me! Stop 'tagonizing me!"
They are both now vegetarians (or more accurately, cheese-atarians) and have recently been delighting in telling their little sister, as she begs for a cheeseburger from 'Old MacDonald's', that, "you don't want that, there's people in there!" and then graphically describing where hamburger comes from.
Exit baby, hands clapped over ears, shouting "NO! NO! NO! You're jokin' me! Stop 'tagonizing me!"
Level Green
During the day yesterday, as I ran errands with only my littlest one in tow, (yeah, that's what I meant when I said I had the day off), my mother-in-law offered to watch all three kids later in the evening, so that my husband and I could have a night out, if he would bring some lightbulbs up to her place and change them. Good deal!
We planned on a movie, maybe Cold Mountain or The Last Samurai, and dinner. Well, dinner is tricky for us. We've been living in a house without a kitchen for four months now. Pardon me, we do have a little dorm-room-sized fridge, a microwave, and a coffeemaker, but that's it. So, we eat out/take out all the time. "Where do you want to go, honey?" "Oh, I don't know...where do YOU want to go?" "I don't know...what do you feel like?" "Uh, I don't know, what do YOU feel like?" One of those.
Undecided, we drove around and through and past and through again, downtown Fort Lauderdale. Forgot it was Friday night, and tourist season to boot. Next came the realization that we weren't really all that hungry and the decision was made to just park and wander until we found someplace to have a glass of wine. Too much time had elapsed for a movie.
Fort Lauderdale is currently undergoing a boom. There are six, at least, skyscrapers going up right now, which amazes me, when this native remembers as a child, the tallest building being FOUR stories. And, hey, I'm not THAT old. The city has really done a fine job of livening up it's formerly sterile business district. Architecture buffs that we are, we poked our heads into every building we could, critiquing the designs.
Stumbled across a Japanese Steakhouse, grabbed a seat, ordered some appetizers and wine, and had some grown-up talk. Discussed the kids. G mentioned how weird and nomadic our lifestyle is, especially as we were both raised in very traditional families, and how our kids must think so too. I argued that not knowing any different, this was normal to them. G laughed and told me that we are so out of touch.
"Out of touch?! There are loads of other people like us! Homeschoolers..."
He interrupted and explained that he didn't just mean in the education department, he meant in general. "Most people, probably everybody in this room, are carrying HUGE debts, live in cookie-cutter houses in big, ridiculous, subdivisions, the moms have to work and race around to daycare, they're all a paycheck away from disaster..."
I knew what he meant. We have minimal debt, a teeny little house on the edge of Cracktown, a teenier cottage on an island (Henry David Thoreau's got nothin' on me), our days are spent surrounded by our children, we have foreign residency in case we feel the urge to escape America, my husband could work wherever, whatever. Low overhead, low expenses, high spontaneity... Oh! I get it, "Out of touch" is a compliment!
He summed it up by saying, "Our Tragedy Level is 'Low.'" [A pause, while I slip my sashimi back into my mouth] If we had a fall, it would only be from here (hand an inch off the table), to here (table)." He's right. And thank God for that. What a great life it is, when you really have no major worries and know that whatever comes your way, high or low, you can deal with it. We are two of a kind, and quite happily, out of touch.
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
-- Jay Livingston and Ray Evans
(and sung by Doris Day, of course)
We planned on a movie, maybe Cold Mountain or The Last Samurai, and dinner. Well, dinner is tricky for us. We've been living in a house without a kitchen for four months now. Pardon me, we do have a little dorm-room-sized fridge, a microwave, and a coffeemaker, but that's it. So, we eat out/take out all the time. "Where do you want to go, honey?" "Oh, I don't know...where do YOU want to go?" "I don't know...what do you feel like?" "Uh, I don't know, what do YOU feel like?" One of those.
Undecided, we drove around and through and past and through again, downtown Fort Lauderdale. Forgot it was Friday night, and tourist season to boot. Next came the realization that we weren't really all that hungry and the decision was made to just park and wander until we found someplace to have a glass of wine. Too much time had elapsed for a movie.
Fort Lauderdale is currently undergoing a boom. There are six, at least, skyscrapers going up right now, which amazes me, when this native remembers as a child, the tallest building being FOUR stories. And, hey, I'm not THAT old. The city has really done a fine job of livening up it's formerly sterile business district. Architecture buffs that we are, we poked our heads into every building we could, critiquing the designs.
Stumbled across a Japanese Steakhouse, grabbed a seat, ordered some appetizers and wine, and had some grown-up talk. Discussed the kids. G mentioned how weird and nomadic our lifestyle is, especially as we were both raised in very traditional families, and how our kids must think so too. I argued that not knowing any different, this was normal to them. G laughed and told me that we are so out of touch.
"Out of touch?! There are loads of other people like us! Homeschoolers..."
He interrupted and explained that he didn't just mean in the education department, he meant in general. "Most people, probably everybody in this room, are carrying HUGE debts, live in cookie-cutter houses in big, ridiculous, subdivisions, the moms have to work and race around to daycare, they're all a paycheck away from disaster..."
I knew what he meant. We have minimal debt, a teeny little house on the edge of Cracktown, a teenier cottage on an island (Henry David Thoreau's got nothin' on me), our days are spent surrounded by our children, we have foreign residency in case we feel the urge to escape America, my husband could work wherever, whatever. Low overhead, low expenses, high spontaneity... Oh! I get it, "Out of touch" is a compliment!
He summed it up by saying, "Our Tragedy Level is 'Low.'" [A pause, while I slip my sashimi back into my mouth] If we had a fall, it would only be from here (hand an inch off the table), to here (table)." He's right. And thank God for that. What a great life it is, when you really have no major worries and know that whatever comes your way, high or low, you can deal with it. We are two of a kind, and quite happily, out of touch.
Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
-- Jay Livingston and Ray Evans
(and sung by Doris Day, of course)
Friday, January 09, 2004
Good Ol' Ben
"So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do."
--- Benjamin Franklin
Yep. Today my older two are experiencing a classical form of education, doing an apprenticeship with their father. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. For me, it's a day off, yippee!
--- Benjamin Franklin
Yep. Today my older two are experiencing a classical form of education, doing an apprenticeship with their father. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. For me, it's a day off, yippee!
Thursday, January 08, 2004
One good reason to visit the fridge...
Found this on the door the other day, created with one of those magnetic word sets:
women and men are working
a hot light
fire
people fighting for life
humans run
no help
black
gone
all is still
quiet city
many pray together
we remember
(by my 11 y.o.)
women and men are working
a hot light
fire
people fighting for life
humans run
no help
black
gone
all is still
quiet city
many pray together
we remember
(by my 11 y.o.)
Limbo
1: a region believed to exist on the border of hell as the abode of souls barred from heaven through no fault of their own
2a: a place or state of restraint or confinement b: a place or state of neglect or oblivion c: an intermediate or transitional place or state : a middle ground
3: a West Indian acrobatic dance originally for men
2a, b, and c: That's where we are...in the midst of a move, trying to close three complicated real estate deals. It feels like 1:, with enough bending over backwards to be 3:.
Our transitional state has lasted two years now. Splitting our time between a tiny little fish shack on a southwest Florida, boat-only, barrier island and a very small house on the east coast where Dad still works has been challenging. We will hopefully be settled into an adequately sized house by the end of this month.
How to homeschool in the midst of this? Well, let's just say, we've been real flexible. Today, the kids staged and videotaped a very elaborate rock concert, news report, and a sit com using characters from Seinfeld, all with their Playmobil people. That's educational, right?
2a: a place or state of restraint or confinement b: a place or state of neglect or oblivion c: an intermediate or transitional place or state : a middle ground
3: a West Indian acrobatic dance originally for men
2a, b, and c: That's where we are...in the midst of a move, trying to close three complicated real estate deals. It feels like 1:, with enough bending over backwards to be 3:.
Our transitional state has lasted two years now. Splitting our time between a tiny little fish shack on a southwest Florida, boat-only, barrier island and a very small house on the east coast where Dad still works has been challenging. We will hopefully be settled into an adequately sized house by the end of this month.
How to homeschool in the midst of this? Well, let's just say, we've been real flexible. Today, the kids staged and videotaped a very elaborate rock concert, news report, and a sit com using characters from Seinfeld, all with their Playmobil people. That's educational, right?
Welcome to my SCHOLA blog
a Secular Classical Homeschoolers' Odyssean Learning Adventure
Depending on our day, the "O" can alternately stand for: obnoxious, obsessive, obfuscated, obtuse, obsolescent, obsequious, obstinate, obtrusive, obscure, objective, obstreperous, occasional, occupational, ochlocratic, odd, odiferous, odious, offensive, official, officious, offshore, old-fashioned, oligarchal, omnidirectional, omnifarious, omnipresent, onerous, onomatopoeic, operatic, opportunistic, oppositional, oppressive, optimistic, optional, orderly, original, orthodox, Orwellian, oscillating, outrageous, outdoor, outstanding, overblown, overseas, and overwhelming...
But almost never: ordinary
You know how it is.
I decided to jump on the bandwagon and create a little place of my own to catalog our many adventures. If you are interested in the day-to-day minutiae of a homeschooling family, read on. Or don't. Sometimes we're not particularly interesting, but I will try to keep this from becoming a blah-g.
Cheers.
Depending on our day, the "O" can alternately stand for: obnoxious, obsessive, obfuscated, obtuse, obsolescent, obsequious, obstinate, obtrusive, obscure, objective, obstreperous, occasional, occupational, ochlocratic, odd, odiferous, odious, offensive, official, officious, offshore, old-fashioned, oligarchal, omnidirectional, omnifarious, omnipresent, onerous, onomatopoeic, operatic, opportunistic, oppositional, oppressive, optimistic, optional, orderly, original, orthodox, Orwellian, oscillating, outrageous, outdoor, outstanding, overblown, overseas, and overwhelming...
But almost never: ordinary
You know how it is.
I decided to jump on the bandwagon and create a little place of my own to catalog our many adventures. If you are interested in the day-to-day minutiae of a homeschooling family, read on. Or don't. Sometimes we're not particularly interesting, but I will try to keep this from becoming a blah-g.
Cheers.
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