Status Report (Where I also blather on about our usual neuroses)

Punta Gorda is slowly getting back to normal. Most of the fallen, dead trees have been removed. Road signs and highway lighting are nearly all back in place. Many of the demolished buildings have been cleared away. Large piles of debris on roadsides are almost all gone. Most stores and restaurants are back in business. New construction is happening.

There are still numerous homes with blue FEMA tarps, some on their second or third set after five and a half months waiting for overscheduled roofing contractors. The railroad crossing signals haven't been fixed. There are buildings that look like the day after the storm, thankfully, not as many. Depending on the tides, sunken vessels can be seen poking out of the waterways.

We are especially anticipating the reopening, promised for February, of our one and only bookstore, Books-A-Million. It will be nice to finally sit down, books in hand, and compare the various versions of The Iliad and The Odyssey for next year's study without having to drive 35 miles each way.

On the home front, we have gone full circle again:

We had begun looking, again, in different towns, at houses for sale, vacant lots, debating which style house to build, and considering what we already have, all with an eye toward establishing roots for the children. Because they have finally made a few good friends locally and are involved in some outside activities and S has an appointment scheduled for an orthodontic consultation next month, braces being a necessity involving a commitment of several years, we were reluctant to stir things up.

So after all that, we came back to our plan to build the cheapest possible structure on our four-acre lot, a barn, with airconditioning to facilitate climate controlled storage of our furnishings and tuck in a sleeping loft with bathroom facilities. But then we're going to hit the road. We'll keep the island. We'll be mortgage free. All vehicles will be paid off. G is expecting to complete his contracts around the same time as L finishes preschool this year. I just need to figure out how to do orthodontics on the road.

We figure if we wait much longer, S (12.5) and G (10) will be too old to travel around with their parents, being tied up with employment or educational responsibilities of their own. L (4.5) is about old enough now to really remember and appreciate the experience. And besides, our Australian residency expires in June '06. Use it or lose it. Our window of opportunity is closing.

G has a strong desire to visit India and the Amazon jungle. I want to spend some time in Europe. G and I could do this more easily, and less expensively, on our own, but we want our children to have this experience with us. His family's summer-long travels to places like El Salvador, where he and his sister lived with a local family for two months, made a lasting impression. Our first extended stop will likely be New Zealand in an effort to establish residency there under the reciprocal agreement with Australia. NZ is a little cheaper than OZ and their residency requirements more lenient. It's much easier on us all, especially my mother-in-law, to say we're going to travel for an undetermined amount of time than it is to say we're moving to another country and we're never coming back.

It also didn't hurt that we happened to watch PBS's Frontline: Is Wal-Mart Good for America? this weekend, which set off a discussion about the dire straights our country will be in as a result of the huge trade deficits, drain of U.S. resources overseas, and lack of industry here. Who can afford to compete with foreign labor? Thanks to free trade agreements and greedy corporations, we can't. Some would say it's just the way business works, compete or die, and while that's true, it certainly doesn't bode well for our economy. It will take a long time to recover and make up the difference when we finally become productive again. If we become productive again. Anyone noticed how much steel costs lately? We are dependent on foreign steel. Last year, during the building of the house we are presently renting, a steel frame construction, steel prices rose 150%. China and Japan buy our scrap metal, we buy their steel. We export scrap paper, we import cardboard boxes full of merchandise. We export cotton, we import cheap clothing. We are being reduced to the status of a third world country mined for its raw materials. But most people choose to ignore these facts as long as it doesn't interfere with their shopping. Wal-mart is good for Wal-mart. I don't care how many low paying service jobs they provide. G and I are not concerned for our own welfare, it's the kids who will have harder times. He wants to be sure they're set up in an environment where they can have some measure of financial security, not always struggling to pay the bills just to maintain some dismal status quo. Seeing that show really got him going.

It could be beneficial living closer to Asia. I should probably start teaching the girls Chinese. Maybe they could end up trophy brides for Asian billionaire industrialists.

The benefits of paring down our curriculum are obvious. Saxon Math, Classical Writing with Harvey's Grammar, and Henle Latin are all we really need. The girls can keep a Commonplace Book. Toss in a few family favorites and classics to get us started and off we go.

So G will keep his New Year resolution that by Christmas '05 we will have a permanent place of our own again, a home base. We just won't be living there for some time. Roots for the children? We are their roots.

Last night

It was quiet time. We were finally getting around to watching our Netflix Ned Kelly movies, both the Mick Jagger and the Heath Ledger versions. L was warned to settle down, no more jumping around.

L performs a headstand in the middle of the room.

"Alright, you're done, Miss. Bedtime."

"Nooooooo!"

"You were just told to settle down and you are not listening."

"I am!"

"You just did a headstand."

"No, I didn't."

"L, we just watched you stand on your head. Now you're telling a lie."

"I didn't stand on my head!"

She performs another one.

"OK, L, that was a headstand. That's it. Get into bed!"

"I wasn't doing it, it was only my body."

(Oh God, she's got some sort of disassociative disorder...)

"Your head is connected to your body. Your head told your body to do a headstand, so you did it."

L, now very frustrated says through gritted teeth, "I wasn't trying to stand on my head! I was trying putting my hat on with no hands!"

Sure enough, in the center of the floor, lies her hat.

"Oh."

Remembrance of Things Past

I was tossing a few post ideas around in my head last night, but I was unable to or uninterested in pursuing any of them.

Then, this morning in a very Proustian way, I was inspired to finally tell you, per Sarah's request, about growing up in Florida. What triggered these remembrances was the smell of a passionfruit, cut, seeded and left to dry on my kitchen counter. The aroma always stirred some vague memory but today it hit me: Passionfruits smell like the delightful cloud of insecticide that sprayed out the back of the mosquito truck late summer afternoons. I distinctly recall swimming in the pool, hearing the hissing, chugging truck approach, bursting up though the water in anticipation of the sweet smell of bug spray about to envelop us. My husband used to ride his bike behind the truck to prolong the experience. That's probably what's wrong with us.

Anyway, growing up in South Florida was probably not a whole lot different from where you grew up, except for the opportunity to occasionally play hide and seek with the police helicopter's searchlight when they were out looking for escaped felons. We would wait until they got close and then scatter, diving into bushes or rolling under the stationwagon. The sweeping light would remain fixed on your position until they identified you and then would move on. That momentary pause of the light meant success!

There were lots of other fun things to do. My mother and brother shared a special game performing undercover surveillance on, and recording license plate numbers of visitors to our suspected drug dealing neighbors. It was a great way for him to learn his letters and numbers and encouraged his inherent talents. He went on to become a police officer and insurance fraud investigator, supporting the notion that you should discover and develop your children's interests at an early age.

We had the usual neighborhood bullies. Their techniques may have varied slightly, considering the differences in environment. I was once put into an underground garbage can enclosure and not allowed to leave until I had undressed. Suffocating was less a concern to me than preserving my dignity, and it never seemed to be a major concern anyway since the lid was opened every few minutes to determine if I had complied. I refused. My mother became suspicious when she noticed the group of boys gathered around the lid and I was nowhere to be seen. Another of their tricks was to ask me to go fishing with them in the canal behind our houses. Fences would be mended, all would be forgiven. Let's be friends! Then they would dangle me off the dock for gator bait. This began a series of recurring nightmares and a mortal fear of alligators. Years later, when the state of Florida opened up a legal hunting season for alligators, G and I were first in line to apply for a license. He was excited by the potentially lucrative harvest. I was excited figuring the best way to overcome my fear of the loathsome reptiles would be to kill one. Who needs expensive therapy? As is usually the case though, the limited number of permits all seemed to fall into the hands of large developers and other friends of the state.

Other fauna was no less threatening. Blissfully riding my bike through puddles up and down our street after a typical window-shaking afternoon thunderstorm, I was unaware of the danger about to strike. Fwoomp, fwoomp, fwoomp. Something from behind knocked me clean off my bike. Something very hard was repeatedly striking me in the head. I instinctively curled into a fetal position and covered my eyes. An old woman two doors down, sweeping her porch ran over and began bashing me and the offending creature with her broom. Someone else, alerted by the old lady's screams, raced over and apprehended the crazed Muscovy Duck. Apparently I had trespassed into one of his puddles and enraged him. The police came. Animal Control came. It was all very frightening. I was sure the horrible thing would escape police custody before he could be taken away and tested for rabies. There might even be helicopters with searchlights. Fortunately he was not rabid and strangely enough, I have never had either a mortal fear of, nor desire to kill a duck. Another terror we suffered was the constant threat of bufo toads fatally poisoning our daschsund, Henry. We found him several times on his back, short legs straight in the air, foaming at the mouth. The garden hose was dragged out and Henry's mouth well flushed. It kept happening. It always scared us. I think Henry liked it.

The best part of growing up in Florida in the early 70s was the proximity to Disney World. At the time there was still only one two-lane road through the cow pastures to the Magic Kingdom, and we made the pilgrimage at least once a year when relatives from Up North would descend upon us. Not only would we be treated to a trip there and a box of doughnuts while waiting for the park to open, we would score all the extra tickets left over at the end of the day. Of course, all the "E" tickets were used up so we ended up with mostly "A" tickets, good for not much more than the carousel, but we still thought it was pretty cool.

So, really, no matter where you grow up, some things are universal.

Off to enjoy my madeleines, I mean, passionfruit...

In addition to the standard math, grammar, and Latin, today's lesson has been supplemented with a study on our newest pet.

The other night G called the girls to say he was on his way home with a surprise. He wouldn't tell us what it was, but he is famous for pulling over and rescuing tortoises wandering out onto busy roads and other such endangered critters, so we suspected it was an animal of some sort.

He wrestled a huge cage up the stairs. It looked like a large rabbit hutch. Then he went back down and brought up a cardboard box. He began to tell us the story of how earlier that day, on one of his job sites, he had found a poor baby bunny nearly frozen to death in the parking lot. Yeah, it's been cold, not as bad as many of you have been experiencing, but we did get down close to freezing the past few nights. He carefully opened the box, cautioning the girls to stand back as it may panic and start frantically hopping around. The sound of sharp nails scrabbling on the side of the box was quickly drowned out by the screams of the girls as a four-foot flash of green launched itself, mercifully, inside the cage. It was not a bunny.

L has named it Verde, and indeed he or she, I haven't gotten close enough to tell yet, is covered with scales so brilliantly green they look like sequins.



I hear they taste like chicken.

A Thomas Jefferson Education

This is the book I would most likely recommend first to anyone considering homeschooling or those concerned with improving the education of a traditionally schooled student.

Oliver Van DeMille lays out a very clear, simple plan. A Thomas Jefferson Education, an education typical of the kind that produced great statesmen, requires only two things: A mentor and the classics. Read, discuss, write, and apply. That's basically it. There is a little handholding for the still insecure with a brief schedule elaborating how to pull it together, appendices of book lists, and sample discussion questions, but otherwise, it's pretty self-explanatory. No more whining, "But how do I do it?" Be an active participant, read the books along with your students, encourage discussion, and apply your discoveries to a modern-day situation.

He describes the three types of education systems as public (conveyor belt), professional (private), and leadership (either public, private, or homeschool, using the mentor and classics format.) What is important to remember is that, "using the public school doesn't mean you have to rely on the conveyor belt; and just because you're home schooling doesn't mean you are off the conveyor belt. If you are still worried about curriculum and hidden secrets of teaching, chances are you still have one foot in the system."

The book is a quick, informative, and encouraging read. I feel reassured that my efforts to pare down and consolidate our curriculum are legitimate and focused, not merely lazy.

My impression is that he falls short in two areas, though. First, he doesn't specify any classical languages when discussing foreign language study. The founding fathers surely had an education that included a working knowledge of classical languages, if not outright fluency, as opposed to say, only Spanish. I also think he missed the mark slightly on his advice for teaching writing. I like the idea of keeping a "Commonplace Book," or student journal of what was studied and learned each day, recording a recap of the day's material -- imagine how easy an end-of-year portfolio review would be -- and his other recommendations to write, rewrite, accept only quality work, and find an audience for the student's work to encourage diligence make sense, but I wonder why he did not suggest the method I've seen repeatedly attributed to the founding fathers, one that Benjamin Franklin advocates and explains in his autobiography, and that's learning writing through imitation. Van DeMille implies that simply reading quality material, without actively studying mechanics and construction, will enable your student to become a skilled writer. Learning Latin or Greek would cover both foreign language studies as well as the technical aspects of writing.

Much of his advice reminded me of posts I've saved from the Well Trained Mind boards, ones written by MFS describing her Family Centered Learning Project (FCLP.) Read, discuss, write, apply. It really is that simple.

Give me a day or so...

I finished A Thomas Jefferson Education: Teaching a Generation of Leaders for the Twenty-first Century and have a few comments, but I spent all day sleeping, well, except for when I was briefly awake with nausea and a migraine, alternating between sweating and shivering.

The kids were marvelous, even the little one who was kept home because of the fever she ran most of the night. They kept themselves busy writing letters to cousins and penpals. Not until 5:00 PM did they even think about putting the television on. No fights, either. Wow.

So now, off to gobble some more Tylenol that my dear husband mercifully brought home and hope for a good night's sleep.

In Defense of Elitism

This book, while not a must-read, is worth a look. The author, William A. Henry III, lists plenty of examples of how and why our society is failing because of misguided egalitarianism, the idea that not only should everyone have an equal start in life, but that everyone should finish equally too.

We have taken the legal notion that all men are created equal to its illogical extreme, seeking not just equality of justice in the courts but equality of outcomes in almost every field of endeavor.

Feminism, multiculturalism, bans on hate speech, and affirmative action are some of the touchy social topics he ridicules. Culturally he slams the "universal self-celebration of the masses," including the proliferation of camcorders and karaoke; the victimization, entitlement, and lottery mentalities of the public; the proliferation of entertainment; as well as cotton candy journalism, both print and electronic. Much of it is highly inflammatory, and most of it is dead on and wickedly amusing.

Every corner of the human race may have something to contribute. That does not mean that all contributions are equal. ...It is scarcely the same thing to put a man on the moon as to put a bone in your nose.

And before you go calling him a racist, he defends his statement by saying that real racism is found in the condescension that minorities must be coddled instead of challenged to compete with and equal the best in the culture they presently live in.

As far as education goes, he lambasts the current trends of mainstreaming, ending ability tracking, social promotion, sanitized vacuous textbooks, rewritten self-esteem raising history, and schools used primarily as therapy. He believes far too many people are unnecessarily attending college and far too much money is being thrown away subsidizing the effort. The great economic cost produces only dubious results. He blames the desire to elevate everyone to college level for bringing colleges down to everyone's level.

What to do about it?

Surprisingly, he believes less higher education would help. He recommends most community colleges and state teachers colleges be done away with because they serve the educationally marginal. Those students would be better served with vocational training in high school and on-the-job training at work.

The vital thing is not to maximize everyone's performance, but to ensure maximal performance from the most talented, the ones who can make a difference.

For everything else he advocates a common sense return to meritocracy.

The point of elitism is not, when all is said and done, to promote envy or to enlarge the number of society's losers. It is to provide sufficient rewards for winning.

More inaugural stuff

I caught a report on the news last night of the extensive excavation project going on under the Capitol building and grounds. Auditoriums, cafeterias, transportation tunnels, and, of course, bomb shelters are being built below existing construction and the East grounds.

----

Just wondering, how hard would it be to not do a fist-pumping victory dance when you hear the band strike up "Hail to the Chief"?

Speech writers

The dependency on professional speech writers is sad. Sure, once in a while one of them may knock out some worthy effort, but wouldn't it be better if our politicos could be eloquent on their own?

Compare what we heard today with another second inaugural address:

Fellow-Countrymen:

At this second appearing to take the oath of the Presidential office there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement somewhat in detail of a course to be pursued seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself, and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it, all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, urgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war—seeking to dissolve the Union and divide effects by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war, but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive, and the other would accept war rather than let it perish, and the war came.

One-eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was somehow the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union even by war, while the Government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the duration which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with or even before the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces, but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of offenses; for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh." If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether."

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

-- Abraham Lincoln, March 4, 1865

Inauguration

In honor of the inauguration, we will be taking a day off from our regularly scheduled programming to sit in front of the television and watch the swearing in ceremony and parade. Not that I'm celebrating, mind you, I enjoy grand spectacle for the same reason people like car races: the potential for disaster.

I attended Mass with Pope John Paul II on his visit to Miami, when a bolt of lightning hit the enormous cross behind the altar. The Mass was halted and the park evacuated. I took a lunch break on the sidewalk in front of Vizcaya to watch Queen Elizabeth II ride by on her way to the Summit of the Americas. Nothing monumental happened that day, though I was generally disbelieved back at the office because I could not successfully identify the color of her hat. The main reason I went to the Law Enforcement Officers Memorial ceremony in Washington D.C. was to see Ashcroft in the flesh. I've been in a restaurant where people whipped out guns and were threatening to shoot each other. I've pulled over on Fort Lauderdale Beach to watch a boatload of Haitians pull up and make a run for it, and the Keystone Cops response by the authorities. When Elian was holed up in his relatives' house in Miami, I begged someone to ride down with me and gawk.

Why?

Something might happen. And I must be there.

We are eagerly anticipating news from my niece who will be attending one of the inaugural balls tomorrow evening, one for Bush's Christian supporters. One without drinking and dancing. What else do you do at a ball, I wonder? Her father-in-law was a big backer, probably financially, in addition to his nearly full page pre-election ad in USA Today titled something like, "Seven Reasons Christians Should Not Vote For Kerry." The funny thing is, and all terrorists should stop reading at this point, that as of yesterday no background checks had been done. I guess they are all a trustworthy lot.

My Desk

As per Donna's request over at Quiet Life, here it is...


You caught it on a good day, no extra papers covering the surface, my mother-in-law is staying with us for a few days, although a very close inspection may reveal a baby dust bunny or two among the cords. I despise cleaning, and make very little time for it, so to keep the place tidy I eliminate clutter. Makes for a boring desk, and counter tops too, I know, but saves on aggravation and allows for more time spent reading or online. That's how I deal with ironing as well. I will elaborately fold or hang all of our clothes, like you find them in the store, just to avoid pulling out that hideous time-wasting iron and board.

The 'desk' itself is an antique carpenter's table. It has a bit of a lip on the edge which prevents junk from falling off, a deep drawer for miscellaneous papers, and a built in vise on the left front that's great for disciplining children.

On top there's my laptop, a stack of homeschooling materials I've culled for sale, my well-thumbed Well Trained Mind atop a Veritas Press catalog for planning next year's line-up, a beaded reading notebook, Post-its, my cell phone and a pencil (in this case my favorite, Thomas Jefferson's "I cannot live without books" quotation pencil from our visit to Monticello last spring.)

The older wooden office chair on the right is a bit low for this table, and the chair on the left a bit high. I prefer the taller padded leather seat, and most days you will find me with my legs stretched across the top of the table in true redneck fashion, laptop in my lap.

G.G. Mil

G's grandmother died New Year's Day. We knew it wouldn't be long. What is the general rule of thumb? Three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks/months without food?

Mil's "cremains," a gruesome word that sounds as if it should have a registered trademark following it, are sitting on our counter waiting to be brought down to Everglades City today, where she asked to be scattered in Everglades National Park, among the Ten Thousand Islands. We had planned a small, quiet service, but since Mildred was a beloved mayor of E-City years ago, the service has taken on a life of its own. Mil would have pooh poohed all the fuss, but she would secretly be very pleased with all the attention.

We don't hide death from our kids, we want them to accept that it's a very natural part of life. Cremation though, is a little tricky to explain to a four year old. "How can G.G. Mil fit inside that little tube?" "What happens if someone sees us dumping her and thinks we're littering?"

Here's how we will remember her...

The Brooksville Raid

"Don't blame us, we voted for JEFF DAVIS"

Today we spent the day immersed in our Civil War studies at the 25th Annual Brooksville Raid. S is still a major reenactor groupie and gladly met Abraham Lincoln, among others. It appears the Union Army took the day.

"A Day in the Life..."

I was asked to contribute to this regular feature in our homeschool group's monthly newsletter, and because I have so many books sitting on my bedside table begging to be read, I'm delivering this canned post for your reading pleasure. G'night!

****

In the morning, after returning home from dropping the littlest one off at preschool, out fly the books. Both girls eagerly jump into their grammar, and when they finish they beg and plead, in a happy, friendly sort of way, to be the first to do math with Mom. They are ever so cheerful and stay on task right up until noon, when they prepare themselves a healthy meal. We all sit down and I read aloud the next few chapters in our history study, the girls eagerly devouring the story as well as their lunch. Deep discussions of events and ideas excite the girls so much they can’t wait to begin their additional reading assignments, but they reluctantly wait until after our last subject, their favorite, Latin. Latin is such stimulating fun I can hardly get the girls to put the books down when it’s time to pick up their sister from school.

Yeah, right. Though, if you factor in the moaning, groaning, foot stomping, and occasionally elevated voices, mine included, it begins to resemble reality.

We have been using Rod & Staff’s Building Christian English Series 4 and 7 for our grammar and writing lessons, a thorough and challenging series that has taught me more than all my years in school did. The kids hate it, so it must be good. I begin with whichever child has found her books first, a chore even though their location never changes, do the oral review, teach the lesson, and get her started on the written portion. Repeat with remaining sister.

I catch the first sister wandering over toward the computer, realize she must be finished, and check her work. She tells me she forgot to feed her pet, so she is allowed a brief break for animal duty. Second sister is now finished and checked, and because she refuses to eat breakfast, she is hungry, and drifts off for a snack.

After I have rounded them up again, the same routine is followed for math. Math is Saxon 5/4 and 8/7. They don’t mind it too terribly.

First sister, apparently finished, is enjoying a sandwich, an ice cream sandwich. Second sister must be persuaded to finish her work before she gets one too. She must then be reassured that there will still be one left in spite of her voracious sister. A real lunch is suggested. Outside they go for a few zippy loops around on the scooters, fueled by their sugar high.

Back inside, we go over questions from Beautiful Feet’s Early American and World History Guide for Junior High for the previous day’s reading, and I begin the next section aloud in Abraham Lincoln’s World. There are several intermissions while I answer history related questions; order the hedgehog to be put away; explain that your behind should be on the seat of the chair, not your head; remind them that discussing the previous day’s swim lesson, while it is a past event, does not count as history; and state for the record, once again, that the video camera be put down, filming a historical drama and creating period cat costumes are purely extracurricular pursuits.

After reiterating all the reasons Latin is relevant and why we will continue learning a language that no one speaks, I get the nine year old working on her lesson in Latina Christiana I, while the twelve year old completes her next lesson in Traditional Logic. When the elder sister is finished, she works on the next few exercises in Henle’s First Year Latin.

At some point in the day, I try to check and reply to emails and update my blog. Sometimes I even shower! Housework is left for the fairies, but last I heard, the union was involved in some sort of labor dispute and they haven’t been showing up lately.

By now, it’s time to get their little sister. If this is a Tuesday or Thursday, we go straight from school to swimming lessons. Each girl dutifully drags along her additional reading, Across Five Aprils for the older and On the Banks of Plum Creek for the younger, which keeps them occupied, and hopefully quiet, during car trips so that I can catch up on the day’s events on NPR.

After dinner, some hodgepodge from the fridge or more often a take-out brought home by Dad, we snuggle into my bed for a read-aloud, a work of literature relating to the historical time period under study, currently The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, and, after all wiggling has ceased, enjoy a lovely evening.

Another reason I'm glad my DSL's back

I have a project to do.

Florida gives you two homeschooling options. One is that after notifying your county school board, you maintain a portfolio of the child's work to be reviewed at the end of the year by either a certified teacher or psychologist, or take a standardized test, either of which only have to show the child made improvement commensurate to their ability. The other is that you can register your child in a "600 school," which translates, loosely, very loosely, as a private school, and be exempt from any of the aforementioned requirements.

You can set one of these 600 schools up for yourself, so long as you have at least one student registered other than your own. The beauty of the 600 school, is that the state does not require any record keeping more than attendance. Mark 180 little Xs off on your calendar and you're done. Physical presence at the school is not even required; guardians are free to teach the child in their own home, using a prescribed curriculum or not, just as long as they have learned for 180 days.

Cool, huh?

A few years back I'd considered this. An unschooling friend had established one and invited us to join, but I wanted something more classically oriented, or at least something with a classical sounding name, if only to make high school transcripts seem a bit more solid. Alas, no other classical-leaning homeschoolers, eclectic or otherwise, were to be found. One friend was interested, but for the time being, her family only spends part of the year in Florida and residency status was unclear.

But now, I have someone willing to pursue this venture with me, someone with a permanent Florida connection, who recently returned to homeschooling and blogging after a brief hiatus, and who sounds less like a haughty New Yorker and more like a California girl, except for the rapid fire delivery, but hey, she's got a lot going on and time is of the essence, someone whose blog might be listed over there in my sidebar, but I'm not naming names.

So, off to research I go.

Quickie

My DSL is down and I won't be posting for a few days... See you then.

Unschool

The problem seems to be mostly mine.

After I called school off yesterday and set them free, a homeschool friend phoned wondering about the sleepover we had tentatively planned at last week's get together. My girls aren't on the sleepover circuit so I was a little reluctant, and I had finally rid our house of most of the holiday clutter so I wasn't looking forward to any more mess, but this is one sweet little girl and I had been so mean earlier that guilt persuaded me to let her come over.

They quickly set to playing library and compiled a masterlist of titles from hundreds of books on our shelves, all entered on the computer alphabetically. This morning, they are back at it.

Unschooling certainly has some benefits

Frustrated

Today was a rough day, the kind that makes me want to send all the girls to school. This is the failure my mother has been waiting for.

I believe homeschooling is the best situation for any family willing and able to accommodate it, but I don't think that includes me anymore. My girls are lazy, failing to self-motivate, and I am unable to successfully motivate them, at least in a nice way. This might be something best left to professionals.

What does inspire them is making movies. Today their creativity was unleashed by an interest in the Civil War. Great! Go ahead and make a movie! Here are books on backgrounds, battles, first person accounts, photos, and historical fiction. But first do your grammar, math, and Latin. Oh. Not so fun amymore. Too bad.

I know, you're probably thinking, that's wonderful that they show such an interest. Go with it. They'll retain so much more by immersing themselves in the history.

To me though, that's too unstructured, and I'm too uptight.

Maybe I am only trying to prove how smart I am. Maybe I am trying to prove how much better my kids are than everyone else's. Maybe I'm just one of those horrible, overbearing parents overcompensating for my own shortcomings, trying to recreate and perfect my own childhood. Ick.

If my main goal in this whole parenting episode is to create and maintain a happy relationship with my girls, it probably isn't going to happen this way.

Is this burnout or a more permanent reality? I thought burnout could be cured by backing off and taking a more relaxed approach. We have been in relaxed mode since the holidays began. What now?

Ancients

Initially I decided to jump right in with and stick to the Greeks and Romans, in keeping with my new focus on a truer sense of a classical education, using Great Books Academy's (GBA) Ninth grade course list as my main source for reading materials. My kids though, and probably yours, are fascinated with the Egyptians, so naturally they had to be included too, especially as Fort Lauderdale is one of the three U.S. cities hosting the return of King Tut's treasures at the end of this year. (Can you believe it was 26 years ago that the collection first toured?) Since I will be dealing with an upcoming fifth grader as well as an upcoming eighth grader, and since this will be our first return to the first period we ever studied as homeschoolers, a time when I knew even less than I do now and was far less organized meaning some important facts were no doubt left out, and since, well, (here comes the part where I stick to Sarah's request for more honesty from homeschooling instructors...) it's hard, too hard for me at this point anyway, I began modifying my lofty goals. My Latin is still only at an early high school level, my Greek non-existent, so we will not be reading the classics in their original forms next year. The English translations are still difficult for me because I am not comfortably familiar with the mythology and complete storylines of Homer's works, so more mid-level sources were added from the Veritas catalogue, The Well Trained Mind, and from GBA's Third and Fourth grade lists, in the form of junior translations. The three of us are firmly in the logic stage.

Another modification I made was to begin at the beginning with the earliest civilizations and include some Old Testament biblical history. Gilgamesh is a good start. We loved Ludmilla Zeman's picture books last time and I would like to use them again along with an actual translation, possibly Ferry's version. We used the Kingfisher Encyclopedia as our spine the first time which covered many early civilizations, but not in any flowing narrative. Wondering what to use as a spine this time, I pulled out Asimov's Chronology of the World which is very helpful for me to see how it all comes together, but not for the kids. A better choice for this time period, for me, seems to be Asimov's Guide to the Bible as it explains the history alongside the stories, differences in translations, and clarifies the relationships between ancient groups in an awesome narrative, all from a secular perspective. Along with the DK Illustrated Family Bible which looks to be a good choice for the kids for a brief, basic Bible study because it includes cultural and historical information and explanations along with the stories, I think those will be our major references for the study period. Egypt is covered, mostly with books from last time used more in depth. I would still like to find some resource to pull all the Greek materials into some cohesive package and am interested in reading GBA's history lesson plans for Fourth grade and the Study Guides for the Greek Year (Ninth), which include answers along with lesson plans.

With all this additional material to cover I decided to use the Greeks as a cut off point, saving the Romans and a quick trip through the New Testament for the following year. Now begins the time consuming process of perusing all those various retellings of myths, The Iliad, and The Odyssey, narrowing down the huge list I've compiled to find the editions that best suit us, and evaluating what I already have on hand.

It's a Mall World After All

Today I packed up the car and bravely set out to do what has needed to be done since December 25. Returns.

It's not that we're ungrateful people, oh, no, we are very grateful for the bounty of presents lavished upon us this Christmas, and even more for the thoughts of love and appreciation they represent, it's just that sometimes, the gifts are not quite right...

I always thought that you gave holiday gifts to business associates to thank them for all the work they send your way. My husband has been receiving gifts from his clients, the ones that he does all the work for. Paid work. So he collects large checks for his efforts and then collects a slew of goodies at the end of the year too. Not bad! One friend in particular, who started out as a mere client, sent us a lovely holiday floral centerpiece, a nice bottle of wine, and a boxed cologne set for my husband. Now, G has a Papa Hemingway kind of thing going on. He's not the cologne wearing type, even if it is a he-man, manly brand. He won't even wear deodorant because it's too perfumy. Fortunately for everyone he comes in contact with, he seems to have been born without sweat glands. I had an inkling which store this gift came from and since it was on my list of stops I decided to give it a try. My guess was correct. I was stunned when the store credit came back with the amount of $95.00 on it. He is so going to be in trouble when he does not show up at our friend's business reeking of expensive cologne.

Two stops at two different Burdine's trying to exchange the sheets Papa bought me for ones not specifically marked, "Extra Deep Pockets." Seems that in your higher quality bedding you cannot buy fitted sheets that were not made for giant, fluffy, pillow-top mattresses. I ended up keeping them. So they will require a little extra tucking from time to time, they're worth it.

Another gift I reluctantly returned was the harem pants Papa bought me from the Tommy Bahama store in Sarasota. I say reluctantly, only because it's a long drive. When I think how nice it would be to live in a city that has an opera company and some excellent art museums, I need to take a drive up to Sarasota and remind myself how congested and pretentious the place is. The pants had a nice bamboo print on them, but they were meant as a beach cover-up and were see-through. Now, when I go to the beach and feel the need to cover up, that's what I do. That means my butt should not still be visible through my pants. Sorry hon, I know it's the thought that counts. Disgusted by the gross materialism I saw exhibited in the store, and feeling guilty and sad every time I spied a label from India or some Southwest Asian country, I left without making a purchase, ending up with another store credit.

Hit The Gap to exchange pants for my husband, who has finally fessed up to needing a larger waist size, and Old Navy to return an unwanted and unnecessary winter hat. Target swapped out a broken LeapPad that Santa dropped off, and Walmart took back a ridiculous looking purse, pants that were four sizes too large for my daughter, and a boxed set of noxious smelling Black Cherry candles, all from a well-intentioned cousin.

Too bad the present to my husband from my father was a mail order purchase, because that means there is no local store to take back the half brown, half white bath towel with "Face" and "Butt" on each end, stitched in contrasting colors.

Off to slide into my freshly laundered, 600 thread count, Egyptian cotton sheets with a new book or two. Those are presents I can really appreciate.

Happy New Year!

January

National Mentoring Month; Oatmeal Month

1 Happy New Year!
Ellis Island opens, 1892
Earth at Perihelion - closest point of orbit to sun at 8:00 PM EST
3 Mars Rover “Spirit” lands on Gusev Crater, 2003
4 Trivia Day
5 George Washington Carver dies, 1943
6 Epiphany/Twelfth Day/Three Kings Day and Armenian Christmas
Pan Am completes first around-the-world flight by commercial aircraft, 1942
7 Julian Calendar Orthodox Christmas celebrated in Russia
Transatlantic telephone service between London and New York begins, 1927
8 Celebrate Universal Letter Writing Week
Foucault uses pendulum to prove Earth’s rotation on its axis, 1851
10 Perigean Spring Tides, highest possible tides
12 First woman senator, Hattie W. Caraway from Arkansas elected, 1932
13 First Radio Broadcast to public in New York City, 1910
16 Religious Freedom Day – drafted by Jefferson in 1786, model for First
Amendment
18 Pooh Day – celebrates birthday of author A.A. Milne, born in 1882
21 Arbor Day
23 National Handwriting Day – observed on the birthday of John Hancock, born in 1737
25 First Winter Olympics in Chamonix, France, 1924
Apple Computer releases Macintosh, 1984
27 Auschwitz liberated by Soviets, 1945
Apollo I spacecraft fire, 1967
Vietnam Peace Agreement signed, 1973
28 Challenger Space Shuttle explosion, 1986
30 Osceola dies in St. Augustine at Fort Marion, 1838


Birthdays
1 Paul Revere, 1735; Betsy Ross, 1752
2 Isaac Asimov, 1920
3 J.R.R. Tolkien, 1892
4 Louis Braille, 1809; Jacob Grimm, 1785; Sir Isaac Newton, 1643
5 Alvin Ailey, 1931
6 Joan of Arc, 1412; Carl Sandburg, 1878
8 Elvis Presley, 1935
11 Alexander Hamilton, 1755
12 Jack London, 1876
14 Benedict Arnold, 1741
15 Martin Luther King, Jr., 1929
17 Benjamin Franklin, 1706
19 Paul Cezanne, 1839; Edgar Allan Poe, 1809; Robert E. Lee, 1807
20 Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, 1930
23 Edouard Manet, 1832
27 Lewis Carroll, 1832; Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1756


Look with favor upon a bold beginning.
-- Virgil

He who has begun has half done. Dare to be wise; begin!
-- Horace

It is easier to resist at the beginning than at the end.
-- Leonardo da Vinci

Of a good beginning cometh a good end.
-- John Heywood

If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts he shall end in certainties.
-- Francis Bacon

Things are always at their best in their beginning.
-– Blaise Paschal

Begin at the beginning…and go on till you come to the end: then stop.
-– Lewis Carroll (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland)