~~~  Flight School ~~~~

Even now, as I look at my past earnest notes, my

Head swirls. Math. Science. History. Find Scott

Joplin resources. Something about President Cleveland

Not being able to read his inauguration paper.

You had a piano teacher named Ms. Shaw. I taught

You guitar and Constitution at Lamppost Co-op.

On Tuesday, you were supposed to watch a

Star Trek show before Taekwondo and then,

Suddenly, all my plans end, and there’s blank

Page after blank page. During this phase of

homeschooling, we must have been

jumping, jumping, jumping. ADHD trampoline

homeschool. Do you remember Whoever got

Pokemon toys Chicorita&Poliwhirl off from a hard

bounce -- also Pooh and a big marble or two –

Would win? Over and over they sailed up

Newton's-law-lesson to thump down on the ground.

I’d have a book nearby and we’d read history

Told in stories and lie there looking up at

The clouds floating by, moving, not required

To be static, meandering, sliding, untied

To the earth or chair. I learned to do

A side aerial flip with you my little boy

wisp as we flung ourselves up unwired.

copyright TWW

2/13/16

Pellets

Today, it's gray once more, February and final(?) ice pellets. Public school was cancelled.

It's been a restful day. Cody and I are watching the story of Wilbur Wilburforce, the movie "Amazing Grace," the abolitionist movement in England. I wonder how Cody will process all of this information given him of oppression, of right-movements, of caring for human needs over economic. I don't want him to be self-centered, nor myself. There are still choices to be made in the world for good. The movie, in fact, seems quite relevant today despite the eventual ban on slavery. It's interesting how justification can always be made to turn away and not look. I want to teach him to stare and think and do.

Well, well, the hopes on a wintery day.

Will It bite?

Saying you're a Christian homeschooling mom seems to signify a certain stance. I'm not so good at posing. For instance, perhaps I shouldn't be so enthusiastic when my son asked me, "Why should we pray for my sister during the tornado? I'm sure if someone is killed, they will have also had people praying for them. Why would God protect her, but not them?" Inwardly I cheered at his logic and smartness. The little tyke is growing up out of pat answers and needs to understand things for himself. I complimented him for his thoughts and then said something about hope and comfort being an important benefit for us and her, regardless of whom the swirling cloud of natural laws chooses to alight upon (and, unfortunately, there were two killed in this storm). And, I gave him my views that God doesn't create badness and that he cares. If Cody wants to question how much he cares due to his not intervening for those two southwest Missouri women, then I see that as natural; it is curious. Questions of faith ~~ ones that involve throwing out a line to see if possible a fish will bite ~~ are encouraged here, despite my responses from my own hard-won beliefs. Hardcore curriculum with all the answers figured out makes me wary. Search, young man, search your way to your own fitting statements of faith in God. Amen and amen.

D'em bones

The evening of bones. We rattled, we shook, we gripped them to make primitive music, instructed by "Dr. Bones" himself, who shook, rattle, clacked himself into a dancing jester, or a dancing tribalist, or a dancing freak. The boys of the jam-session home were bright-eyed, happy, unplugged, entranced. I couldn't get the hang of bone-playing, but the doctor said it takes time. He holds a convention for bone-players once a year. The internet, he said, helps to bring freaks together. A place to belong, I added. You're not alone, said the fiddle father.

I went on a good long walk yesterday with a friend on the trail. The sky was bright, the air crisp, the geese drinking, the favored bench facing the lake. I'm most alive outside. The hubby and I went out again this morning, and we heard the geese wings overhead, above the morning-misted lake. I could lie on my (her) bench for a duration just listening and soaking in what the earth says, what God whispers. Former girl woods-walker, yess'um, ah, life and death quite mingled.

Books I'm reading:

The Spiral Staircase, Karen Armstrong ~~ she adapts to "the world" after leaving the convent; she's one of my favorite writers, intellectually honest, attempts to stare at faith and figure out what it is really.

The Teenage Liberation Handbook: how to quit school and get a real life and education, by Grace Llewellyn; her first chapter advises that organized school destroys essential, innate desire for learning by constant control. She advocates unschooling. I don't understand unschooling that much; however, I think I'd like to add some elements of it to Cody's school day instead of me planning and nagging him. What does he want to learn? How can I accomodate that? Less control, more trust in the learning process. We'll see. I doubt if I'm a total convert, yet she has some good points already.

A Saturday ~~ the boys are at a basketball game. I have empty space! The sky is blue, blue, bright outside my window. I wish I were on the trail again!

Active Livin'

What I'm doing these days:

1) whizzing around town with little musician boy in tow; drumsticks, piano books, guitar colliding in cacophony in the back of the van;

2) sitting on the parent bleachers, watching Cody bow respectfully, kick like a mad mule, and chop like a banchee; I'll be his taekwondo practice guinea pig at home later;

3) making coffee for the Tuesday men in my kitchen in my bluegrass group; they, even though in their sixties, report that not all men must have Folgers like every farm man I'm related to. Perhaps they even drink something different than Mtn. Dew? Wow, cultural expansion for me!

4) enjoying/tolerating my daughter as she prepares to leave on Friday for school in Springfield; it's strange to think that she'll be a city away. It's strange to think that the piles of clothes, sacks, old dishes in her room will magically go with her. It's hard to think that I will be left only with boys. I will miss her, yet will she mature? Yes, the time is now. I'm glad for her and hopeful in her new start for a new life. It's an answer to prayer that she's at this point. Little bird, needs to fly. And soar;

5) getting together with friends; walking on the trail with one of my favorites; playing music with another; going to dinner and discussion; coffee in the mornings. Although it seems like friendship outing-time has diminished, I always have someone to call and get together with. Grateful! Necessary! I'd be sunk otherwise!

6) plunking on my mandolin;

7) reading, reading, reading; in the last 48 hours, I've read chapters from a Joseph Campbell book, an Amy Tan novel, the Bible (Ezra), Charlotte Mason, John Ortberg, and numerous books on Asperger syndrome;

8) baking, gift giving, spending time with family (laughing and crying some because of it);

9) straightening, cleaning, trying to make my husband happy because of it. I'd rather be plunking, reading, any of the above! However, I like semi-order myself; I'm thinking of putting in a system again for doing it without knowing I'm doing it. Is that possible, Fly-Lady??

10) being grateful for the good things in my life; i.e., the possibility of everything on the list above. I'm alive and kickin' -- and, this is essential, and good.

Science doesn't hurt when one reads a book like Dr. Jenner and the Speckled Monster, replete with colorful, yet direct stories of the smallpox scourge and the subsequent discovery of smallpox vaccination. I didn't realize how much history has been shaped by this disease. Nor, confidentially, did I understand some of the inner workings of our immune system (T cells, for instance). I never realized that the milk maids of 16th-17th century verse were immortalized because they were immune to smallpox, and therefore, always had a beautiful unscarred face. I didn't realize Queen Elizabeth had it at age 29, was heavily scarred, and wore heavy makeup and a wig to hide the disease's aftereffects. I didn't realize that germ warfare didn't begin on the Arabian Peninsula (with Hussein, for instance), but, right here, when germ-laden blankets were given to an Indian tribe which was mostly wiped out due to the high mortality rate. Gaining their land was the reason.

Cody didn't realize all those things (and more not mentioned!) before we read Albert Marrin's interesting and educational story about Dr. Jenner and how he discovered what worked as an immunity to smallpox (cowpox) and experimented until he had created the first vaccine.

An intriguing story. An excellent book. I recommend it.

ragtime etcetera

My little (tall-ing) middle school student is amazing me this year. Attentive, mature, thoughtful. What's happened over the summer (after a few dips even)? All I can say is that this is the best start of school yet. Over at the public school for three hours, Cody is doing well, being brave, managing the socialfull, sensory-filled, whole teaching delivery. His science teacher e-mailed and said that he's a delight.
And, he's been delightful at home. We've been working from 10:45 to 3:00, and he is skipping / plodding right along. I am delighting in home school this year as it's incredibly fun to be introducing some concepts to him and to see his brain stretch.
Here's yesterday's schedule for those who are interested in what a home school day might look like:

1) middle school: band, academic lab (where he did home school reading on Scott Joplin); science

2) home where I re-teach Science using the Audubon's Weather book. We create a chart and chart the clouds of the day and read about cloud altitude and mechanics of precipitation.

3) math: mean, mode, and average review; multiplication review -- not many problems, I just want to assess that he still remembers how to do it;

4) Find two Scott Joplin resources: a) a soundfile on the web to listen to Maple Leaf Rag and the Entertainer; b) look him up in the real-world Encyclopadia to improve reference skills; read aloud.

5) Continue a page in his Writing Strands work book;

6) Go to white board and put William Penn on the ongoing leadership chart. Would you call him a strong or weak leader? [Strong due to religious convictions that all people were created equal; selfless as he used his land (now Pennsylvania) to set up a colony for other Quakers).

6) Write and define the word of the day "Universal" on a notecard and tape to the inside of the front entry closet door with other words;

7) Have Cody write about his basic rights as a member of this family in his History journal (playing video games is a basic right??). Discuss.

8) Read about Isaac Newton and John Locke in Story of the World. Talk about how the word "universal" applies to human rights. Talk about early beginnings of democracy and constitutional monarch (William and Mary) vs. absolute monarchy (Louis 14th). Relate the idea of "contract" to Cody's journal entry.

9) Visit word door and have Cody make up a sentence with each of the nine words on door.

10) Alphabetize his band music.

11) Practice piano and drums.
school is dismissed!

12) Go to rockband practice from 6-7

13) Read a chapter from his book (or Bible) right before bed

Whew! Collapse! Its been a productive day, now on to the next.

Sleds and water balloons, why not? The sleds later became water troughs for the 23 kids who roamed around my yard yesterday, slurping up the cool refreshing liquid into their water guns, wands, later my plastic bowls. It was the beginning (and the end?) of an annual water fight and ice cream party. There were many drenched, dripping smiles and lots of splattery feet. And no whams, bams, thuds, cries, or sirens either, thankfully. Cody's vision of summer fun came true, and even though he made a new girl enemy friend ("She wouldn't stop squirting me, Mom!"), he went to bed sleepy and happy last night. My torn up backyard and raw balloon tying thumb will be just fine (although I do mention them for sympathy). The best thing out of all this is that there will be no more nightly drench-mother-rehearsal-pre-fights. I'm safely dry now and plan to stay that way.

Perspectus

The world revolves for those of us lucky enough to be here.

When I see the collapsed bridge in Minneapolis, I can't help but think of Thornton Wilder's "The Bridge of San Luis Rey" in which he examines the lives of those who were crossing the bridge when it snapped and fell. The novel poses the question of destiny / fate / divine purpose against random occurence. The question used to bother me quite a bit. Now, I tend to believe that random occurence is a causal powerful thing which is hard to avoid in this land of natural laws and motions. Our divine purpose meets its wall. Our divine purpose occurs before meeting the wall. Perhaps God will move the wall, perhaps He won't. Perhaps we'll be on the wrong section of the bridge some time. May we live according to his plan and light until then.

But, life goes on for me. Cody finished his social skills training at the local autism center yesterday. I'm excitedly seeing timers and conversation topics and he and I conversing, with certain rules of conduct, over our reading. I think this will continue the work of the summer.

Music continues. Cody, his learn-by-play piano teacher (not the technical one on Monday's), and I whipped up a rendition of O Susannah to record on Wednesday afternoon. Cody wrote my (very haunted F minor sounding) harmony which I memorized on the mandolin. Linda played her guitar, and Cody manned the piano, having recorded also a drum part. We taped; Cody wasn't happy! We kept doing reworks. We kept laughing. He wants a mic for each instrument next week! I am grateful for Linda and call her Annie Sullivan, a deserving teacherly name for her.

My daughter is driving a friend to the KC airport today which worries me. I told her so, and she hushed me off, and I have no way to take her keys as she lives with her friends. Life goes on there. In a couple of weeks, we're all bound for the beach. I'll look forward then, away from the drive of the day.

Finally, I received my syllabus for my graduate class in English that I'll be taking online. Wow, am I crazy?! Yet, I'm idiotically looking forward to the learning goals and deadlines that this paper represents, now on the outside, soon to be swirled within the language of pedagogy. Do I have you to thank for this, Jennifer (haha)?

Life continues until who knows when or how. May God grant us perspective.

our wild knight's festival

I've been in the throes of decision regarding school for Cody next year. I was offered a chance at teaching Creative Writing and Language Arts at an area private Christian school, geared for homeschool children. Yet in further thought, prayer, consultation, I realize that this school could not accomodate Cody and would most likely end in a negative experience. We've investigated the school before for him. I still remember the wave of concern visible over the administrator's face when I told him about the autism diagnosis. Although Cody is mild, yet he still would need some grace provided in the form of patience and love and time. He doesn't fit in the candle holder there.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a Christian school who could make room for all types of children? In Little Rock when I looked, there was one that had an outlook like this. However, the slots were full.

As it is, another plan is in place for Cody for next year, which includes a few public school hours and some tutoring in math and an emphasis on Social Studies and English at home. One door closes, some will open.

With the Virginia Tech specter in our minds these days, I pray that children who don't quite fit in will not be even more ostracized due to a fear or distrust issue. Protect our special children, please Lord! They need a full scoop of directed love, mercy, grace. Amen.

Last night, my daughter and I went out for dinner and then to the movie "Pan's Labryinth" at the independent film house here in town. It was enjoyable, quipping before the movie, hearing about her boyfriend, talking fashion and people. Like old times, our similar faces liking one another (harder than love at times). We saw her old Contemporary Thought teacher whose class she dropped during her renegade period. We saw a student co-editor in one of her current journalism classes. We saw random people and things to comment upon. I bought her popcorn and cream soda. And, then we snuggled into the old chairs as the cute-boy-movie-host rattled hither and forth as he described the upcoming films. The lights went down, and we began to hear Spanish and we began to read along even after the initial terrible image mangled our vision. As the film went on, the fantasy was fantastical, the reality abject, and we held on until the final image connected the first. And, a lullaby was hummed, and a girl twirled in new clothes. If you haven't seen it, consider it. The guerrila war aspects are worth enduring for the transcendence in the storyline, although the weightier of the two will become apparent. But, we must know both parts.

Life is knowing the parts, I suppose.

My guitar class today at the parent homeschool co-op was wild. Several guitars of the eight students appeared ill-tuned, and fighting this at the beginning took a while. In the meantime, one kid aspired to Clapton, and the other one who talks, talked and talked. The others "warmed up" and the discordance floated down through the hallway. It was fun, however, as well to conduct the sound once I got back into the room. We controlled our way into two or three songs, and those kids like to sing too. I think we'll be a hit at the recital in April!

almond roca

My last blog was bleak (bleally!), but not all is dreary. For instance, Cody and I rode our bikes to a nearby frozen custard shop a few minutes ago. We didn't ride, we raced, except when he called "icebreak!", and we rested on the curb. Then he'd say, "Ready, set, goat!", and we wouldn't start up again, because he said goat instead of go! When he finally said, "Go!", we'd be off again in the cool sunny day.
At the store, I got my favorite almond roca, and he got his usual vanilla in a cup. Then, we sat on a beautifully carved bench and gave each other a couple silly quizzes, laughing, making sure we included the word "butt" in several. It was like being in fourth grade again.
Cody loves to laugh. His blue eyes shone back at me, and I thought, "I have lots of time to be with him now. I'm so glad!"
I am incredibly grateful for these moments of grace and goodness. As Papa tells Travis after he shoots Old Yeller, "We must focus on the good things in life or the bad will takeover."
Tru'dat Papa. :)