I know it was yesterday, but yesterday was a big day. We did it, we canned the deal on the big house and don't have to worry about a lawsuit. The island it is! We called the realtor and instructed him to take this place off the market. My Valentine's Day present is sitting out on the dock right now. Approximately one ton of lumber for our new screened in porch. Woohoo! We'll be up to 700 sq. ft in no time!
Also began surgery on my lap top. Most of the day, and a good portion of the evening was spent trying to save HUGE files on floppies. It's critical, but stable, thanks for asking.
------------
Hmmmm. Wondering about the use of the F word in the previous post. Is vulgarity acceptable? When? Is it better to be true to the quote, or censor for decency's sake?
Saturday, February 14, 2004
Parental Advisory - Explicit Content
Last night, G and I watched Bowling for Columbine. (I forgot to get The Hours again.) Thought provoking, to say the least. This summed it all up for me:
-----------------
Michael Moore interviewing Marilyn Manson, on Manson's music being blamed for the incident...
Manson:
The two by-products of that whole tragedy were violence in entertainment and gun control, and how perfect that that was, the two things we were going to talk about with the upcoming election... And also then we forgot about Monica Lewinsky and we forgot about the president who's shooting bombs overseas... Yet, I'm a bad guy, because I sing some rock-n-roll songs. And who's a bigger influence, the president or Marilyn Manson? I'd like to think me, but I'm gonna go with the president.
Moore:
Did you happen to know that the day Columbine happened, the United States dropped more bombs on Kosovo than any other time during that war?
Manson:
I do know that and I think that's really ironic, you know, that nobody said, well, maybe the president had an influence on this violent behavior. No, because that's not the way the media wants to take it and spin and turn it into fear. 'Cause then, you're watching television, you're watching the news, you're being pumped full of fear: There's floods, there's AIDS, there's murder, cut to commercial, "Buy the Acura," "Buy the Colgate," if you have bad breath they're not gonna talk to you, if you got pimples, the girl's not gonna fuck you. And it's just this... It's a campaign of fear and consumption... And that's what I think that it's all based on, is the whole idea, that, keep everyone afraid, and they'll consume. And that's really as simple as it can be boiled down to.
Moore:
Right. If you were to talk directly to the kids at Columbine and the people of that community, what would you say to them if they were here right now?
Manson:
I wouldn't say a single word to 'em... I'd listen to what they have to say. And that's what no one did.
------------
Don't judge a book by it's cover. Manson is a master showman, and once you get beyond the surface, his values are not so different from many thinking parents. He knows why kids are disaffected. He understands American culture.
Jorge and I have seen Marilyn Manson a couple times: once in 1993 at a Halloween Eve show in Miami Beach at the Cameo Theatre and again ten years later at Ozzfest '03 in West Palm Beach (after learning that my childhood friend and schoolmate, "Skipper," was the keyboardist for the band and having to see it with my own eyes.)
-----------------
Michael Moore interviewing Marilyn Manson, on Manson's music being blamed for the incident...
Manson:
The two by-products of that whole tragedy were violence in entertainment and gun control, and how perfect that that was, the two things we were going to talk about with the upcoming election... And also then we forgot about Monica Lewinsky and we forgot about the president who's shooting bombs overseas... Yet, I'm a bad guy, because I sing some rock-n-roll songs. And who's a bigger influence, the president or Marilyn Manson? I'd like to think me, but I'm gonna go with the president.
Moore:
Did you happen to know that the day Columbine happened, the United States dropped more bombs on Kosovo than any other time during that war?
Manson:
I do know that and I think that's really ironic, you know, that nobody said, well, maybe the president had an influence on this violent behavior. No, because that's not the way the media wants to take it and spin and turn it into fear. 'Cause then, you're watching television, you're watching the news, you're being pumped full of fear: There's floods, there's AIDS, there's murder, cut to commercial, "Buy the Acura," "Buy the Colgate," if you have bad breath they're not gonna talk to you, if you got pimples, the girl's not gonna fuck you. And it's just this... It's a campaign of fear and consumption... And that's what I think that it's all based on, is the whole idea, that, keep everyone afraid, and they'll consume. And that's really as simple as it can be boiled down to.
Moore:
Right. If you were to talk directly to the kids at Columbine and the people of that community, what would you say to them if they were here right now?
Manson:
I wouldn't say a single word to 'em... I'd listen to what they have to say. And that's what no one did.
------------
Don't judge a book by it's cover. Manson is a master showman, and once you get beyond the surface, his values are not so different from many thinking parents. He knows why kids are disaffected. He understands American culture.
Jorge and I have seen Marilyn Manson a couple times: once in 1993 at a Halloween Eve show in Miami Beach at the Cameo Theatre and again ten years later at Ozzfest '03 in West Palm Beach (after learning that my childhood friend and schoolmate, "Skipper," was the keyboardist for the band and having to see it with my own eyes.)
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Made my reservation for the FPEA Homeschooling Convention in May, but not convinced I really need to go...
On one hand I can check out curricula, be inspired and regain motivation and focus in the seminars, visit with Stephanie, enjoy a nice hotel...
On the other, it's expensive, and many of the speakers and vendors are faith-based.
Last year, I took in a seminar or two purely for entertainment purposes, the titles were just too intriguing to pass up. My favorite was not just interesting, but jaw-droppingly, mind-bogglingly bizarre: "Dinosaurs: Jehovah's Park vs. Jurassic Park" by Catie Frates. I wanted to share the astonishingly illogical science presentation with my family when I got back up to our room, but she raced through her proofs so quickly, my frantic notetaking couldn't keep up (I eventually bought the CD.) The crowd was all pumped up, hootin' and hollerin' and shoutin' "Amen!" It was a little frightening -- I had visions of the crowd detecting an unbeliever and turning on me -- and then, this was more than a bit unnerving, at the end of it all, a little girl came up to me and asked me, perhaps after observing my mad scribbling, what was the one most interesting thing I had learned during this seminar. Oh, honey, where to start?!
That one was worth the price of admission.
----------------
G arrived on the island today with plans to stay through the weekend. He asked L where all those new freckles on her nose came from and she giggled, "Dey just gwoad dayah, silly! Like a plant."
She certainly keeps us amused.
When her big sisters studied the Dutch painters a few weeks back, she had to get in on the act. They were looking up Rembrandt's home in the atlas, when L jumped up, ran to the wall map and saying, "I know, I know! Bwim-bwam lives heeyah!", and pointed to Arizona.
On one hand I can check out curricula, be inspired and regain motivation and focus in the seminars, visit with Stephanie, enjoy a nice hotel...
On the other, it's expensive, and many of the speakers and vendors are faith-based.
Last year, I took in a seminar or two purely for entertainment purposes, the titles were just too intriguing to pass up. My favorite was not just interesting, but jaw-droppingly, mind-bogglingly bizarre: "Dinosaurs: Jehovah's Park vs. Jurassic Park" by Catie Frates. I wanted to share the astonishingly illogical science presentation with my family when I got back up to our room, but she raced through her proofs so quickly, my frantic notetaking couldn't keep up (I eventually bought the CD.) The crowd was all pumped up, hootin' and hollerin' and shoutin' "Amen!" It was a little frightening -- I had visions of the crowd detecting an unbeliever and turning on me -- and then, this was more than a bit unnerving, at the end of it all, a little girl came up to me and asked me, perhaps after observing my mad scribbling, what was the one most interesting thing I had learned during this seminar. Oh, honey, where to start?!
That one was worth the price of admission.
----------------
G arrived on the island today with plans to stay through the weekend. He asked L where all those new freckles on her nose came from and she giggled, "Dey just gwoad dayah, silly! Like a plant."
She certainly keeps us amused.
When her big sisters studied the Dutch painters a few weeks back, she had to get in on the act. They were looking up Rembrandt's home in the atlas, when L jumped up, ran to the wall map and saying, "I know, I know! Bwim-bwam lives heeyah!", and pointed to Arizona.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Anti-momism
After reading the excerpt from The Mommy Myth: The Idealization of Motherhood and How it Has Undermined Women, I think the book will make a great baby shower gift for my sister-in-law. She may not get it, but it's my duty to try and enlighten her.
I personally do not succumb to the pressure of being an uber-mom. Want to raise the perfect child? My recommendation: brainwashing techniques. It really is that simple.
Counting down to an empty nest...14 years, 148 days to go!
I personally do not succumb to the pressure of being an uber-mom. Want to raise the perfect child? My recommendation: brainwashing techniques. It really is that simple.
Counting down to an empty nest...14 years, 148 days to go!
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Misc.
This weekend, the girls read Dangerous Journey: The Story of Pilgrim's Progress to their dad. They LOVE this book and wanted to share it with him. Poor G was so tired though, he kept dozing off.
-----------
S finished The Hobbit and is tearing through The Fellowship of the Ring. We're continuing our read-aloud of The Three Musketeers, with renewed interest after watching The Man in the Iron Mask. Still trying to catch G up on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I've discovered a hidden talent... I can read aloud, in character, in my sleep. When I finally come to a snoring halt, and get a nudge from the girls, I find that I have gone on for up to three pages without any recollection of the story.
-------------
After all her schoolwork was finished yesterday, G continued her new game of school with little sister, L. The lessons included place value flash cards, counting money, first declension Latin chants, and a history-themed art project. They converted an empty case of beer into a castle and created a whole cast of royal characters, while listening to a CD of medieval music and discussing monks.
She is in there now, reviewing the money lesson and planning to read some of the miniature Peter Rabbit books aloud for L.
--------------
Our neighbor came by yesterday for a book swap. We let her borrow The Golden Compass, and I got The Da Vinci Code. Not sure when I'll get to it, but I'm looking forward to it...
--------------
My MIL officially gave me this laptop. I felt bad, because I haven't been successful in extracting the files from my real laptop, and it's taken much longer than I planned, although I think I may finally have a way to do it and will maybe work on it this evening. She told me to keep this one, and when I insisted that I will return it, because I'm close to fixing my other one, she half-jokingly wondered if hers wasn't good enough. OK, OK, I'll keep it! Thanks!! Told you she was cool.
------------
Meanwhile back at the ranch:
G is packing and moving furniture out of the east coast house. It seems very strange to be moving and not involved in the physical end of it. Can't say I miss it, but I do feel sorry for G, just more work and stress for him.
After closing the second deal there, he came across a few odds and ends from the first deal that were unresolved, mostly having to do with additional charges overlooked in the closing costs. The buyer wanted his portion of the deposit money returned but didn't want to pay for the additional expenses incurred. G, never one to nickel and dime it, gave it all back, with a stern lecture on good faith business practices. He's a softy. He also makes deals on a handshake, which is noble, but in my opinion, insane, given this overly litigious society we live in. He decided on principle that he was not going to be a jerk like this guy was to him, and back out of the agreement to buy the big house (which we could legally do.) We will go ahead and close on it, try living there and if we can't stand it, stick a For Sale sign on it and pursue island life again. We can't have our cake and eat it too. One or the other is going to have to go, but since we will have both for the short term, we might as well give it a try...
-----------
S finished The Hobbit and is tearing through The Fellowship of the Ring. We're continuing our read-aloud of The Three Musketeers, with renewed interest after watching The Man in the Iron Mask. Still trying to catch G up on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I've discovered a hidden talent... I can read aloud, in character, in my sleep. When I finally come to a snoring halt, and get a nudge from the girls, I find that I have gone on for up to three pages without any recollection of the story.
-------------
After all her schoolwork was finished yesterday, G continued her new game of school with little sister, L. The lessons included place value flash cards, counting money, first declension Latin chants, and a history-themed art project. They converted an empty case of beer into a castle and created a whole cast of royal characters, while listening to a CD of medieval music and discussing monks.
She is in there now, reviewing the money lesson and planning to read some of the miniature Peter Rabbit books aloud for L.
--------------
Our neighbor came by yesterday for a book swap. We let her borrow The Golden Compass, and I got The Da Vinci Code. Not sure when I'll get to it, but I'm looking forward to it...
--------------
My MIL officially gave me this laptop. I felt bad, because I haven't been successful in extracting the files from my real laptop, and it's taken much longer than I planned, although I think I may finally have a way to do it and will maybe work on it this evening. She told me to keep this one, and when I insisted that I will return it, because I'm close to fixing my other one, she half-jokingly wondered if hers wasn't good enough. OK, OK, I'll keep it! Thanks!! Told you she was cool.
------------
Meanwhile back at the ranch:
G is packing and moving furniture out of the east coast house. It seems very strange to be moving and not involved in the physical end of it. Can't say I miss it, but I do feel sorry for G, just more work and stress for him.
After closing the second deal there, he came across a few odds and ends from the first deal that were unresolved, mostly having to do with additional charges overlooked in the closing costs. The buyer wanted his portion of the deposit money returned but didn't want to pay for the additional expenses incurred. G, never one to nickel and dime it, gave it all back, with a stern lecture on good faith business practices. He's a softy. He also makes deals on a handshake, which is noble, but in my opinion, insane, given this overly litigious society we live in. He decided on principle that he was not going to be a jerk like this guy was to him, and back out of the agreement to buy the big house (which we could legally do.) We will go ahead and close on it, try living there and if we can't stand it, stick a For Sale sign on it and pursue island life again. We can't have our cake and eat it too. One or the other is going to have to go, but since we will have both for the short term, we might as well give it a try...
The Talk
Thinking about this after reading Darby's posts...
I don't know what my girls know exactly. I've never sat down them down and gone through the whole thing (soup to nuts?!), but have pointed out pertinent facts when applicable. They've got a copy of The Care and Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls, so they know plenty about that. Once they left that book at my parents' house and my father, opening it up to the wrong page, nearly had a heart attack, thinking he had discovered some kind of porn after seeing the cartoon of the little girl demonstrating tampon insertion.
My parents are a little on the uptight side. Sex was explained to me in a very perfunctory, clinical way when I was about six. A cousin, 15 years older, loves to remind me how, at that age, I asked her if she wanted to hear something really weird, and then launched into the whole reproduction story. Just a few years later though, I remembered none of it. After seeing someone stick their middle finger out, I asked my mother what it meant and she explained that it represented what a husband and wife do when they want to have children. I grew up thinking it was a secret code, some hand signal you flashed to someone when you wanted to have sex, and your potential partner would flash it back to you. She also left me unprepared for my first period, which had the misfortune of making its appearance when she was out of town, and I was staying with my grandfather.
So, I began my sex ed, in earnest, as an autodidact. Between the "R" volume of World Book and my grandfather's collection of Harold Robbins novels, I learned more than enough.
I want my girls to be at ease with their bodies, and understand that sex is normal and natural and even enjoyable; not purely an act of procreation between a husband and wife. I may not be approaching this the right way however, because the other day, after hearing of another of S's friends who have started their periods, I casually broached the subject of puberty with S and G, and they both went running out of the room with their fingers in their ears, "Lalalalalalalalalalala! I can't hear you!!"
On a positive note, I now know how to instantly clear a room.
I don't know what my girls know exactly. I've never sat down them down and gone through the whole thing (soup to nuts?!), but have pointed out pertinent facts when applicable. They've got a copy of The Care and Keeping of You: The Body Book for Girls, so they know plenty about that. Once they left that book at my parents' house and my father, opening it up to the wrong page, nearly had a heart attack, thinking he had discovered some kind of porn after seeing the cartoon of the little girl demonstrating tampon insertion.
My parents are a little on the uptight side. Sex was explained to me in a very perfunctory, clinical way when I was about six. A cousin, 15 years older, loves to remind me how, at that age, I asked her if she wanted to hear something really weird, and then launched into the whole reproduction story. Just a few years later though, I remembered none of it. After seeing someone stick their middle finger out, I asked my mother what it meant and she explained that it represented what a husband and wife do when they want to have children. I grew up thinking it was a secret code, some hand signal you flashed to someone when you wanted to have sex, and your potential partner would flash it back to you. She also left me unprepared for my first period, which had the misfortune of making its appearance when she was out of town, and I was staying with my grandfather.
So, I began my sex ed, in earnest, as an autodidact. Between the "R" volume of World Book and my grandfather's collection of Harold Robbins novels, I learned more than enough.
I want my girls to be at ease with their bodies, and understand that sex is normal and natural and even enjoyable; not purely an act of procreation between a husband and wife. I may not be approaching this the right way however, because the other day, after hearing of another of S's friends who have started their periods, I casually broached the subject of puberty with S and G, and they both went running out of the room with their fingers in their ears, "Lalalalalalalalalalala! I can't hear you!!"
On a positive note, I now know how to instantly clear a room.
Monday, February 09, 2004
Re: Poll posts
Here are some miscellaneous replies/thoughts. Thank you for your comments. This is a real, difficult decision that we will have to make, on our own, but the input of people with similar values is important to us, since we are surrounded by family and friends who just don't get us.
Waffling is a word we use all the time around here. Options are great, but too many options can cripple decision making, that's what's happened here. From our original decision to relocate to Australia, to staying in the US, to WHERE in the US, to staying in South Florida, to WHERE in South Florida. We're not cookie-cutter-walled-subdivision-type people. My MIL, who never interferes, practically begged us not to take the girls away from her. We've even waffled on whether or not she has the right to impose on our future like that, but ultimately, she's been good to us and we can't bear to do that to her. She's also advised us, wise real estate investor that she is, to always buy the best address you can afford, even if you have to live in the basement. That would be A, although she'd like to see us in a real house.
Decluttering, ha! I could teach the Flylady a thing or two. We're not terribly materialistic, most of our belongings have been in storage over two years and there's little we miss, but I do miss a few items that we just don't have room for, like my great grandmother's china.
G needs to reduce his stress level. He's a candidate for a heart attack. We want him to be more of a participating member of our family vs. the cash cow.
Money in the bank would be nice (me being a pessimist about the economy) and would enable us to travel more, but I suppose we've managed plenty of traveling so far with no money in the bank. G's resourceful enough to keep the lights on, no matter what he ends up doing. And who need lights anyway, right?
As to expansion/renovation plans, well, G is a builder, so that means our construction factors should be multiplied by four! You know that old saw, "The cobbler's children have no shoes." Come to think of it, my little barefoot crackers don't have a decent pair of shoes either.
Let's see, other considerations: Culture -- at least an hour away from both. Security -- A, definitely, just for its inaccessibility; Demographics -- A: blandly homogeneous; B: diverse.
I'm naturally a hermit and G's very extroverted, but he prefers to personally distance himself from the prole masses. Living in town would be an exercise in limiting involvement with neighbors, and the B property is conducive to that, but we'd probably be singled out as snobs.
We've even considered years down the road: A big, empty house when the kids are gone, or a smaller, more manageable place? Where would the children, even grandchildren, rather come back to visit? A.
A hardships, aside from extra work involved in any regular venture, include salty well water, crummy plumbing, loads of interior-dwelling bugs and critters (carpenter ants made a nest in my printer last year and the other day inside a roll of tinfoil, but mostly the lizards take care of the insect problems), the ever present, powdery sand, occasional red tide and subsequent fish kills, you get the picture... BUT, for all its drawbacks, heading across the bay on a glorious day can make doing the most mundane tasks feel like a vacation.
Our biggest concern is obviously the children. Are we building strong character or animosity by living such a pared down, rough existence? As they get older and more independent, wanting to spend more time with various in-town activities, how will we manage that from offshore?
It all boils down to quality vs. quantity.
Waffling is a word we use all the time around here. Options are great, but too many options can cripple decision making, that's what's happened here. From our original decision to relocate to Australia, to staying in the US, to WHERE in the US, to staying in South Florida, to WHERE in South Florida. We're not cookie-cutter-walled-subdivision-type people. My MIL, who never interferes, practically begged us not to take the girls away from her. We've even waffled on whether or not she has the right to impose on our future like that, but ultimately, she's been good to us and we can't bear to do that to her. She's also advised us, wise real estate investor that she is, to always buy the best address you can afford, even if you have to live in the basement. That would be A, although she'd like to see us in a real house.
Decluttering, ha! I could teach the Flylady a thing or two. We're not terribly materialistic, most of our belongings have been in storage over two years and there's little we miss, but I do miss a few items that we just don't have room for, like my great grandmother's china.
G needs to reduce his stress level. He's a candidate for a heart attack. We want him to be more of a participating member of our family vs. the cash cow.
Money in the bank would be nice (me being a pessimist about the economy) and would enable us to travel more, but I suppose we've managed plenty of traveling so far with no money in the bank. G's resourceful enough to keep the lights on, no matter what he ends up doing. And who need lights anyway, right?
As to expansion/renovation plans, well, G is a builder, so that means our construction factors should be multiplied by four! You know that old saw, "The cobbler's children have no shoes." Come to think of it, my little barefoot crackers don't have a decent pair of shoes either.
Let's see, other considerations: Culture -- at least an hour away from both. Security -- A, definitely, just for its inaccessibility; Demographics -- A: blandly homogeneous; B: diverse.
I'm naturally a hermit and G's very extroverted, but he prefers to personally distance himself from the prole masses. Living in town would be an exercise in limiting involvement with neighbors, and the B property is conducive to that, but we'd probably be singled out as snobs.
We've even considered years down the road: A big, empty house when the kids are gone, or a smaller, more manageable place? Where would the children, even grandchildren, rather come back to visit? A.
A hardships, aside from extra work involved in any regular venture, include salty well water, crummy plumbing, loads of interior-dwelling bugs and critters (carpenter ants made a nest in my printer last year and the other day inside a roll of tinfoil, but mostly the lizards take care of the insect problems), the ever present, powdery sand, occasional red tide and subsequent fish kills, you get the picture... BUT, for all its drawbacks, heading across the bay on a glorious day can make doing the most mundane tasks feel like a vacation.
Our biggest concern is obviously the children. Are we building strong character or animosity by living such a pared down, rough existence? As they get older and more independent, wanting to spend more time with various in-town activities, how will we manage that from offshore?
It all boils down to quality vs. quantity.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
After reading Mental Multivitamin this evening, I remembered, only too late, what that movie was that I've been wanting to see for such a long time.
See, we finally got a video rental membership at our local outlet (welcome to the 20th Century) and today when I went to return The Man in the Iron Mask, and found Whale Rider unavailable, I drew a blank and grabbed the first movie I saw. I stink under pressure. It turned out to be The Patriot, which is probably not too bad, but there's always a few of those really interesting movies that I missed the first time around, and now may actually get to see.
Not only is The Hours one of those movies that my husband would actually watch and enjoy (he's not afraid of his feminine side), it's one we've been wanting to see ever since they filmed part of it in our old neighborhood. The segment with Julianne Moore playing a 1940s woman, in what I guess is supposed to be Hollywood, California, was filmed in a house two streets over from us, in Hollywood, Florida. We watched them film the scene where someone's out driving and has a near collision. That was one street over from ours. Fun to see all those old cars speeding around. Some excitement in the 'burbs.
By the way, reading that post on the 'burbs, I felt a little like ol' Charlie Manson must've felt, listening to The Beatles... ;)
See, we finally got a video rental membership at our local outlet (welcome to the 20th Century) and today when I went to return The Man in the Iron Mask, and found Whale Rider unavailable, I drew a blank and grabbed the first movie I saw. I stink under pressure. It turned out to be The Patriot, which is probably not too bad, but there's always a few of those really interesting movies that I missed the first time around, and now may actually get to see.
Not only is The Hours one of those movies that my husband would actually watch and enjoy (he's not afraid of his feminine side), it's one we've been wanting to see ever since they filmed part of it in our old neighborhood. The segment with Julianne Moore playing a 1940s woman, in what I guess is supposed to be Hollywood, California, was filmed in a house two streets over from us, in Hollywood, Florida. We watched them film the scene where someone's out driving and has a near collision. That was one street over from ours. Fun to see all those old cars speeding around. Some excitement in the 'burbs.
By the way, reading that post on the 'burbs, I felt a little like ol' Charlie Manson must've felt, listening to The Beatles... ;)
These guys are at it again
Poll
This should be simple. A or B...
A)
-- A way too small cottage, with the promise of future expansion into an adequately sized house, possibly within two years. Need for outside storage rental.
-- A pristine environment in an unusual, isolated location.
-- Continual logistical challenges to everyday living.
-- No extra money.
-- Dad changes to a less stressful, much lower paying career and is available every day.
-- Sky high property values.
B)
-- Your family's absolute dream house/estate. More than enough room.
-- A small farm town that you will never really fit into or like much.
-- Convenience of living in-town.
-- Two years worth of income in the bank.
-- Dad remains in stressful position for a while before establishing new career, has long commute and is available partial weekends until then.
-- Stable property values.
Which would you pick? Why?
A)
-- A way too small cottage, with the promise of future expansion into an adequately sized house, possibly within two years. Need for outside storage rental.
-- A pristine environment in an unusual, isolated location.
-- Continual logistical challenges to everyday living.
-- No extra money.
-- Dad changes to a less stressful, much lower paying career and is available every day.
-- Sky high property values.
B)
-- Your family's absolute dream house/estate. More than enough room.
-- A small farm town that you will never really fit into or like much.
-- Convenience of living in-town.
-- Two years worth of income in the bank.
-- Dad remains in stressful position for a while before establishing new career, has long commute and is available partial weekends until then.
-- Stable property values.
Which would you pick? Why?
Friday, February 06, 2004
Carlie Brucia
Horrible.
How do you teach your children to be safe? Is it possible to ever really be safe?
We're not homeschooling to hide away from the world (that's just added value), so I don't hide reality from my girls. Most likely, they will grow up to be as much a cynic as I am. On one level, that's sad, on another, it might save their life.
My three year old wanted to know about the bad man that took the little girl, after I snapped on the news to hear of any updates. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know if he was brown. The latter comment startled me, not just for its racist implications, but because in her mind, bad guys should look a certain way. That scares the hell out of me.
A friend and I were nearly abducted when we were about 9 years old. We were walking along the wall behind her house that separated our subdivision from the commercial properties beyond, when a normal-looking man approached us from the business side of the wall and offered to pay us $5.00 each if we would wash his car. We didn't see any car. We were nervous. He assured us his fancy, red sportscar was just out of sight, around the side of the bank building. We told him no thanks, we thought we better get going home, and that's when he reached up and grabbed my friend by the arm. Paralyzed with fright, she never resisted. I thought about running back to get her mom, but I knew she wouldn't be there when I got back. I tried to scream, and after a few self-conscious attempts, finally got a good one out, after which my friend finally came back to her senses and joined in. The guy took off.
A few years later, a girl disappeared walking from our neighborhood to the drug store, on her way to buy posterboard for a school project. She was last seen crossing a vacant lot, adjacent to that same wall. Related? Who knows. It obviously made a lasting impression on me.
Sure, my mother had given me Never Talk to Strangers, but she also taught me to be quiet, polite and respectful, to the point of obsequiousness, to adults. She never taught me that strangers can be young and handsome, that they don't have to look like bad guys (or camels with bony knees.)
Teach your children to be suspicious and aware. Teach them that bad guys don't look like the boogeyman; they might look like the friendly old man two doors down. Teach them to yell and scream, to be defiant and fight back; not to worry about manners and hurt feelings, or being nice and quiet.
A terrible lesson.
How do you teach your children to be safe? Is it possible to ever really be safe?
We're not homeschooling to hide away from the world (that's just added value), so I don't hide reality from my girls. Most likely, they will grow up to be as much a cynic as I am. On one level, that's sad, on another, it might save their life.
My three year old wanted to know about the bad man that took the little girl, after I snapped on the news to hear of any updates. She wanted to know why. She wanted to know if he was brown. The latter comment startled me, not just for its racist implications, but because in her mind, bad guys should look a certain way. That scares the hell out of me.
A friend and I were nearly abducted when we were about 9 years old. We were walking along the wall behind her house that separated our subdivision from the commercial properties beyond, when a normal-looking man approached us from the business side of the wall and offered to pay us $5.00 each if we would wash his car. We didn't see any car. We were nervous. He assured us his fancy, red sportscar was just out of sight, around the side of the bank building. We told him no thanks, we thought we better get going home, and that's when he reached up and grabbed my friend by the arm. Paralyzed with fright, she never resisted. I thought about running back to get her mom, but I knew she wouldn't be there when I got back. I tried to scream, and after a few self-conscious attempts, finally got a good one out, after which my friend finally came back to her senses and joined in. The guy took off.
A few years later, a girl disappeared walking from our neighborhood to the drug store, on her way to buy posterboard for a school project. She was last seen crossing a vacant lot, adjacent to that same wall. Related? Who knows. It obviously made a lasting impression on me.
Sure, my mother had given me Never Talk to Strangers, but she also taught me to be quiet, polite and respectful, to the point of obsequiousness, to adults. She never taught me that strangers can be young and handsome, that they don't have to look like bad guys (or camels with bony knees.)
Teach your children to be suspicious and aware. Teach them that bad guys don't look like the boogeyman; they might look like the friendly old man two doors down. Teach them to yell and scream, to be defiant and fight back; not to worry about manners and hurt feelings, or being nice and quiet.
A terrible lesson.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Speaking of Survivor...
If Rupert doesn't win this time, I say let's start a campaign to all send him a dollar.
Just one dollar. We get enough people, he could still be a millionaire, he deserves it. Are you with me on this one?!
Just one dollar. We get enough people, he could still be a millionaire, he deserves it. Are you with me on this one?!
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Our buddy Crady made the news yesterday. If you know him, wait, it's for a GOOD thing... Northbound on I-95, he witnessed a car go off the road about two-hundred yards ahead of him. When he arrived, there was a crowd standing there watching the car, upside-down and sinking, in a canal. Crady saved the day. He dove in, smashed the window, pulled out the elderly man and then went back for the man's wife. FHP then arrived and assisted him in pulling the woman from the water.
Wildlife
We have a new friend, a white heron the kids are calling Skipper. He's been hanging around for the past few days, and while we were afraid at first that his unusually friendly behavior might indicate illness, he seems to be fine, and is no doubt hanging around for the big bag of shrimp the girls talked me into buying.
They're almost able to hand feed him. I know, bad for the wildlife, but HE came to us.
This tiny guy was named Squirt. I found him stranded on the sand during a morning walk and brought him home. He had some red, goopy stuff hanging from his belly, and at first it seemed something, a raccoon maybe, had attacked him, but a call to the turtle patrol rep in our area assured us it was unabsorbed egg sack; he had simply hatched a little early. They came down, picked him up and promised to release him in several days when the sack absorbed.
They're almost able to hand feed him. I know, bad for the wildlife, but HE came to us.
This tiny guy was named Squirt. I found him stranded on the sand during a morning walk and brought him home. He had some red, goopy stuff hanging from his belly, and at first it seemed something, a raccoon maybe, had attacked him, but a call to the turtle patrol rep in our area assured us it was unabsorbed egg sack; he had simply hatched a little early. They came down, picked him up and promised to release him in several days when the sack absorbed.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Labels
Most people claim to despise labels. Not me. I agree that in a classroom situation they can be detrimental, when your only choices are good, better, and bad, for example, but otherwise, I think labels can be a very helpful way of pinpointing exactly the kind of person being described.
From various board discussions, I've heard that "homeschooling" carries a distinctly Christian connotation; "classical" has been co-opted by Christian groups, when the two are mutually exclusive; secular use of the trivium does not guarantee a "classical" education either. The marketing value of "classical" is becoming apparent and its misuse by the media, a certainty. What label then best describes our curriculum?
Let me think...
Liberal Arts sounds good, but most people when they ask, wouldn't get it. College Prep? Well, I'm not making any promises or claims that is where they're headed after this, so that's not entirely accurate. A Great Books study? Maybe later, we're only studying Pretty Good Books at this time.
I like the idea of classical, but we're only studying Latin, no Greek. Does backtalk count as Socratic dialogue? True classical focuses only on those ancients (well, duh), so modern history shouldn't technically be included. But Greek and Roman learning evolved over the years to include contemporary ideas, no? Neo-classical? Their knowledge of the world was not nearly as broad as ours, but would they have ignored it had they known more? I doubt it. Classical-style, maybe? Getting closer...
Then there's our approach: Eclectic? Eccentric? Semi-unschool? Too complicated...
---------------
Speaking of labels, my thanks to Phil Hendrie for the _____-style qualifier. The master button-pusher riled up a lot of listeners the day he insisted that there were no "African-Americans", or "Cuban-Americans", but only "African-style Americans" and "Cuban-style Americans." I can only take him in small doses, but if you haven't heard him, give him a try. Even with the frequent disclaimer added to protect his liability, he still manages to pull the wool over so many ignorant eyes. One of his funniest, in my opinion, was when Margaret, the socialite, was describing her charitable duty one Thanksgiving, donating complete turkey dinners to the needy, but nervously, because the neighborhoods were the type with carports and chain-link fencing in the front yards. She had to leave the food at the curb and honk, before speeding off.
And here's an instance where labels are important: When there is a serial rapist on the loose in North Miami Beach, and the press will only describe him as having brown hair and brown eyes. Come on! At the risk of offending anybody, the public service announcements only serve to protect the rapist. The fact is, in most cases, there are some distinctly identifiable racial characteristics. Why is everyone so afraid to mention it?
Maybe labels won't be so important in the future: My MIL says everyone will be tea-colored in 50 years anyway...
----------------
And speaking of MIL:
For Christmas she told the girls that their presents were two books each, that they could order themselves on Amazon.com, when they come up to her place. Dad just called and said the books are in!
If I remember correctly, their choices were:
S - Lyra's Oxford and The Only Coloring, Puzzle, Game, Dot-to-Dot Activity Book You'll Ever Need
G - Spring-heeled Jack and The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
L - The Miniature World of Peter Rabbit: 12 Miniature Original Tales and Olivia Counts
From various board discussions, I've heard that "homeschooling" carries a distinctly Christian connotation; "classical" has been co-opted by Christian groups, when the two are mutually exclusive; secular use of the trivium does not guarantee a "classical" education either. The marketing value of "classical" is becoming apparent and its misuse by the media, a certainty. What label then best describes our curriculum?
Let me think...
Liberal Arts sounds good, but most people when they ask, wouldn't get it. College Prep? Well, I'm not making any promises or claims that is where they're headed after this, so that's not entirely accurate. A Great Books study? Maybe later, we're only studying Pretty Good Books at this time.
I like the idea of classical, but we're only studying Latin, no Greek. Does backtalk count as Socratic dialogue? True classical focuses only on those ancients (well, duh), so modern history shouldn't technically be included. But Greek and Roman learning evolved over the years to include contemporary ideas, no? Neo-classical? Their knowledge of the world was not nearly as broad as ours, but would they have ignored it had they known more? I doubt it. Classical-style, maybe? Getting closer...
Then there's our approach: Eclectic? Eccentric? Semi-unschool? Too complicated...
---------------
Speaking of labels, my thanks to Phil Hendrie for the _____-style qualifier. The master button-pusher riled up a lot of listeners the day he insisted that there were no "African-Americans", or "Cuban-Americans", but only "African-style Americans" and "Cuban-style Americans." I can only take him in small doses, but if you haven't heard him, give him a try. Even with the frequent disclaimer added to protect his liability, he still manages to pull the wool over so many ignorant eyes. One of his funniest, in my opinion, was when Margaret, the socialite, was describing her charitable duty one Thanksgiving, donating complete turkey dinners to the needy, but nervously, because the neighborhoods were the type with carports and chain-link fencing in the front yards. She had to leave the food at the curb and honk, before speeding off.
And here's an instance where labels are important: When there is a serial rapist on the loose in North Miami Beach, and the press will only describe him as having brown hair and brown eyes. Come on! At the risk of offending anybody, the public service announcements only serve to protect the rapist. The fact is, in most cases, there are some distinctly identifiable racial characteristics. Why is everyone so afraid to mention it?
Maybe labels won't be so important in the future: My MIL says everyone will be tea-colored in 50 years anyway...
----------------
And speaking of MIL:
For Christmas she told the girls that their presents were two books each, that they could order themselves on Amazon.com, when they come up to her place. Dad just called and said the books are in!
If I remember correctly, their choices were:
S - Lyra's Oxford and The Only Coloring, Puzzle, Game, Dot-to-Dot Activity Book You'll Ever Need
G - Spring-heeled Jack and The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
L - The Miniature World of Peter Rabbit: 12 Miniature Original Tales and Olivia Counts
Monday, February 02, 2004
Kicked out
I got the boot from our local homeschool support group, sort of. They posted a new rule yesterday, intended to spur participation, that if you do not actively attend at least one of the scheduled events in a three month period, you will be deleted from the group mailing list. When we were able, we'd occasionally join the craft class, or visit the park day on alternate weeks, when it was in our neighborhood. This was not enough, I guess, so, I advised them this morning that we are unable to dedicate any more time to the group and will cease to be members.
That's OK. So far their field trips have included two visits to Chuck E. Cheese, one to Krispy Kreme and one to Rainforest Cafe (the latter presumably to learn about the rainforest, the first two locations, who knows.) Call me Howard Hughes, but I hate, and I use that word sparingly, those horrible, kiddy carnival germ factories, and besides, my kids have been to the rainforest. A real one.
I was already planning to use our imminent relocation as an opportunity to leave, lest you think "sour grapes," because the main topics of conversation on the list for the last few months have focused on tattoos (both the children's and parents'), the parents' sex life, what are the best mood enhancing drugs to feed yourself and your children, and at what optimal dosages. Not much homeschooling support there. This gave me the perfect out.
Back to being a support group of one.
That's OK. So far their field trips have included two visits to Chuck E. Cheese, one to Krispy Kreme and one to Rainforest Cafe (the latter presumably to learn about the rainforest, the first two locations, who knows.) Call me Howard Hughes, but I hate, and I use that word sparingly, those horrible, kiddy carnival germ factories, and besides, my kids have been to the rainforest. A real one.
I was already planning to use our imminent relocation as an opportunity to leave, lest you think "sour grapes," because the main topics of conversation on the list for the last few months have focused on tattoos (both the children's and parents'), the parents' sex life, what are the best mood enhancing drugs to feed yourself and your children, and at what optimal dosages. Not much homeschooling support there. This gave me the perfect out.
Back to being a support group of one.
Sunday, February 01, 2004
Super Bowl Sunday
Bah humbug.
We're not a TV sports-watching kind of family. It is always fun to attend sporting events, but purely as an exercise in people watching. It's hard to beat the entertainment value of watching sports fans (just thinking of auto racing fans brings a big smile to my face -- cars, driving around in circles, for HOURS, that always brings out the creme de la creme.) Hmmm, my last big game? 1985 when the Dolphins ruined the Bear's chance at tieing their 1972 undefeated season record, Monday Night Football, the crowd so loud the players couldn't hear the plays being called, THAT was fun.
The only interest today's game holds for us is waiting for the final score, because we have a few bucks in a pool that G's guys have going and because Survivor will finally be on. The halftime entertainment, ick. Marching bands making goofy patterns on the field are way better than whoever, whatever shows up this evening. And the commercials? We usually watch for these, since my brother, a CGI (Computer Generated Image) artist, usually has one he's worked on scheduled to run during the game, but not this year.
How many hours is this thing?
We're not a TV sports-watching kind of family. It is always fun to attend sporting events, but purely as an exercise in people watching. It's hard to beat the entertainment value of watching sports fans (just thinking of auto racing fans brings a big smile to my face -- cars, driving around in circles, for HOURS, that always brings out the creme de la creme.) Hmmm, my last big game? 1985 when the Dolphins ruined the Bear's chance at tieing their 1972 undefeated season record, Monday Night Football, the crowd so loud the players couldn't hear the plays being called, THAT was fun.
The only interest today's game holds for us is waiting for the final score, because we have a few bucks in a pool that G's guys have going and because Survivor will finally be on. The halftime entertainment, ick. Marching bands making goofy patterns on the field are way better than whoever, whatever shows up this evening. And the commercials? We usually watch for these, since my brother, a CGI (Computer Generated Image) artist, usually has one he's worked on scheduled to run during the game, but not this year.
How many hours is this thing?
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