In Reflection

I sit on this couch in warmth and comfort and type on my computer. My dining table is no longer littered with candles and my daughter has a well lit place to write. My son's jacket sits on the hearth, the dryer is heard, running through it's cycle and in the distance, the fridge hums in content.

70 hours have gone by without power. Dishes piled up, wood was burned, candles decorated the house and blankets were wrapped around bodies. As john was in florida, the 5 of us spent two long evenings in the dark. We spent three mornings in the bleak and cold and at night, used flashlights to navigate our way to the bathrooms and bedrooms.

This morning, I awakened Perry at 6:30. I lit the candles, made the hot chocolate helped him get ready for school. After he left, i told the kids we were going to go to Caribou for our school morning -- the lights will be on, it will be warm and it will be a nice change. We were not the only ones there escaping. The buzz from tables was evident. A large percentage of the patrons were all talking about their individual stories of endurance.

It's not that I am thankful for modern technology or just now realizing that I cannot live without my computer or microwave -- but it takes a range of ingenuity to live through what normally you take for granted. We ate meals in house --- cooking by candle light, we bundled up, we kept a fire going all day - collecting wood when necessary, convened in one to two rooms, instead of spreading ourselves thin about the house, we (or I) relaxed and settled on the couch more (I had in mind to repaint the playroom while john was away - but the basement was freezing and dark and now I have lost my momentum) and we were all in bed by 8pm in the pitch blackness. My frozen vegetables defrosted, my sour cream went bad, my hamburger turned brown and my kitchen smelled like something had died.

We are back. Lights on. Heat on. Dishes washing.

Goodness.

Kublai and Making It Work

This isn't an ordinary year - i have driven this point 8 feet under ground; and yet, we are still here, still working through our days and still laughing.

I am settling into a regular schedule and honestly, did not see this happening. but, satisfied, content and feel that learning is ultimately taking place. We are home...HOME. We do not go anywhere special and work through Kublai's routine. When traveling through history, we often bestow upon Sidney the newest of nicknames the denote something beastly in nature (smile). The latest was Kublai Khan...the tyrannical Mongolian Emperor after Genghis.

Typical Daily Schedule:

*Piano first practice first thing in the morning before school
*Critical Thinking and Logic exercises (to wake up the brain). This comes in a variety of forms: Computer, Exercise Books, Weekly Word Problems.
*Math: 2 math text books - one at grade level and one above
*Editing Skills: Computer program that works through editing a paragraph. Each get to play a quick computer game upon completing it successful.

Kublai goes down for his nap and I rally the kids onto the couch - we wrap ourselves in blankets if need be, i get my coffee, they get their cider and we begin

*Story of the World: curriculum text book that I read from in story form - i find it to be an excellent resource. This week, we have learned and discussed: Ivan the Great and Ivan the Terrible (Lucy will be doing a report on Ivan the Terrible and Simon will be doing something on the Silk Road), and took a video trip to the Kremlin. The Ottoman Turks and their attack/capture of Constantinople (our personal favorite story and place to always talk about and learn.) We visited the now, Istanbul through a couple of tourists' YouTube videos; cool to see the same standing buildings 600 years later, and yesterday, we talked about the "Black Death" that swept all over - killing multitudes.

*Writing: All experience in writing have come from an outstanding book I bought in northern Minnesota - We just finished reading it on Thursday and I was sad to see it go --- literally cried at the end of the book and Lucy had to finish the last two pages.

*Read Aloud - currently reading SCAT - a book that ultimately gives kids the power to make huge change.

Then the kids are back to their work - and I am around to help until Sidney awakes.

*How will I Change the World: Independent project due in December. Simon and Lucy are required to design their own service project - research, make contact and execute. I am helping by supplying the baby steps needed to make it to the end. Currently Simon is thinking of doing something with the Chilean Minors and Lucy is making notebooks for patients in hospitals.

*CNN Student News: This is a 10 minute news story put on by CNN and geared for students. Lucy and Simon have a "Student News" notebook and put the date down each day, write about a key story and give a brief description of another story of choice. At night, at dinner, john will typically ask, "What's in the news today, kids?" By the end of the year, they will have a complete notebook of the years events.

*Cursive

*SSR - There are 2 SSR periods during the day. One is reading time in books that I have chosen for them - presently Lucy is reading the Little Princess and Simon is finishing up The Lord of the Rings...i need to get him another book this weekend. The other period is called "Box Time" where i have a variety of book choices that really has no match or bearing on what we are learning - but books of interest that I have found during library visits.

The day is specked with other agenda items - but this is typical and again, working out well for us......for the time being.

So, It is a quieter year than in the past and I am learning to like it. Expectations are still set in place, but they are attainable --- fantastically wonderful for all!!!

Thanks for listening.

Another All About Me

Again, in writing.
SECOND POSTING
Last week, I had two mason jars sitting out and instruction for the kids to fill it up with "defining" objects. "What is You?" I asked and sent them on their hunt. We decorated the outside of the jar and then let them sit for the weekend on the dining room table.

Today, we talked about the recent news event about someone finding a message in a bottle, sent from Florida and found in Ireland. Another story talked about a 4th grader in Seattle, sending out a message as a class experiment and 21 years later, it shows up on the coast of the Bering Sea. Today, we took out the jars and simon and lucy were prompted to write a character portrayal of 'the jar.' If someone were to find this jar somewhere in this world, how would they define you, simply by looking inside.

Here is Lucy's jar - as seen by her mother.

I am a delicate flower, yet protected by my rustic wall that I have so well defined. I cry at a simple pinch of my pinkie, but in the same breath, bellow, "BACK OFF!" as a warning to all. I am fragile, yet strong and unbreakable at times.

The wind tries to hurry past my fleeting pace, but is defeated by it's loss.

I have much to prove, but will not be made to show. I am a solo actor on this stage. Secure and shaken....always 5 steps ahead of myself and yet find myself quivering in step when there is a bump or a crack lain out in obstacle form. I have been here many times before, but I will persevere, I will persevere.

It's All About Me

Again, in writing.
Last week, I had two mason jars sitting out and instruction for the kids to fill it up with "defining" objects. "What is You?" I asked and sent them on their hunt. We decorated the outside of the jar and then let them sit for the weekend on the dining room table.

Today, we talked about the recent news event about someone finding a message in a bottle, sent from Florida and found in Ireland. Another story talked about a 4th grader in Seattle, sending out a message as a class experiment and 21 years later, it shows up on the coast of the Bering Sea. Today, we took out the jars and simon and lucy were prompted to write a character portrayal of 'the jar.' If someone were to find this jar somewhere in this world, how would they define you, simply by looking inside.

All three of us wrote. I took simon's jar for my observational study and this is what I wrote...simply from looking at his chosen objects.

++++++++

I am complicated. I am specific. When I relax, or feel at my most accomplished self, I take out a book, my notepad and my stubby pencil; sit outside amongst nature and be a part of the glorious unfolding. I am a person with an undertaking of words, a command over the English language and a creative user of its form and structure. I use words to find myself - to develop my person, to exercise my soul. The surround of books strengthens my resolve and perception. Not too many people know the true me. I am ambiguous, yet present. I am open, yet covered, grounded and guarded. My intent unfolds before you and yet, you look around, searching, as if i am lost.

Writing from Simon

Words of Nothingness

Nothing is nothing - then again,
Nothing is Something.
There is nothing called nothing
because
Nothing has to be something.
If there is such a thing as nothing
What does it look like?
How does it feel?
Nothing means nothing to anyone who...

doesn't have an imagination.

Where do things go that disintegrate?
Do they cease to exist?
Would that be nothing?
Along with, "To be or not to be"
I say
Nothing is Something
or
is
Nothing just Nothing

I Do As Told

I was asked to briefly submit my week in review. Here it is - although, in afterthought, I am wondering how i made it through at times.

Monday 9-27: First day home to actually do school with kids. Regular schedule, regular list: read aloud, history, math, the whole nine yards. Nice nap time from baby, good lunch, decent dinner. Husband works late into the evening and daughter has evening soccer practice. Decent, predictable and manageable night.

Tuesday 9-28: Root Canal in the morning, funeral in the afternoon, son's soccer game in the evening -- it is very cold outside. he is not playing yet, due to recently tympanoplasty. husband makes it home in time to relieve me and baby from soccer game. desperately trying to find a way to make it out to California to attend a family funeral. Husband works for major league baseball team - they will be in playoffs and the calendar is packed solid for thursday (the day of funeral) Late tuesday evening, i finally succumb to the knowledge that I will not be able to make it, however the creativity of planning.

Wednesday 9:29: Regular morning of school. lovely day outside. Meeting at church in late morning. 5:00 son calls from high school to ask to be picked up from cross country practice. 5:30 choir practice for other two. 6:30 Pottery making of communion cups. 7:00 home again to get dinner for all 4 kids. oldest is upset because he lost his MP3 player and is moping around the house and refusing to do homework. daughter is upset because she didn't have enough time in the pottery activity and is physically demonstrating her disappointment in the evening. middle child is trying to compensate for the stress level in the house by asking if he can clean anything in site. As i am undressing baby and bringing him to his room, he pees all over me, my pants, my shoes, my shirt. the oldest child heads downstairs and falls down the steps, knocking the wind out of him. As i race down the stairs to attend to this very large baby of mine, the 18th month old slips in own urine on the wood floor and is crying and daughter is in her room with the door closed and middle child is vacuuming the living room. Husband at a dinner outing on his second glass of wine.

Thursday 9-30: Beautiful fall day. 8:15 piano lessons begin the day. Do a nice portion of school outside. It is early release day for the jr. high as there are conferences. All goes well and baby naps perfectly. 1:00 Jr high student walks in door. He eats something and I tell him that I am on my way to drop his brother off at book club - 25 minutes away and i will come back to pick him up for his conference. Drop his brother off, come home, pick him up as well as his sister. Three kids attend conference - older sister is entertaining baby in the classroom. 4:00 conference is over and we make our way to pick up middle son from book club - 25 minutes away (book club was over at 4:00), get home just in time to make dinner for all 4 kids. baby makes mess of peas and rice combo dinner. 5:35 drop jr high student off for his piano lesson. get to middle child's soccer practice on time at 5:45. turn back around to get daughter on her soccer field just before 6:00 (all distances are at least 15 minutes from the other) for her game. it is freezing out this evening and she has forgotten her jacket. Rush home and pick up jacket. Turn around to get oldest from piano practice and then make a bee line to pick up middle child from soccer practice. Soccer practice goes a bit late and we wait and wait and wait. Finally, he gets in the car and we head straight to daughter's game -- we arrive during the second half and as she plays on the field, she shouts out to me, "Mom, i scored 2 goals!!! it was so awesome. you missed it!" Baby finally get to get out of car and roams soccer area. finds some older kids to entertain himself with and follows them outside the gated field. 8:30, we all arrive safe and sound at home. Husband working late.

Friday 10-1: Homeschool gym class at 9:00. This goes until 12:00. We get home, do school, set baby for nap and he sleeps a very long time. The other two chidlren are invited out for a fun afternoon field trip. Later in the afternoon, I have to get baby up, as I am needed for carpooling of jr. high boy. Get to high school and pick up 5 teenage boys to take them 30 miles west of high school for pasta party (insane)- as tomorrow is big race. Fight friday night traffic. On the way to the party, 5 boys trying to cheer up crying baby Drop boys off and head to find some kind of store to buy food for baby, who is quite hungry after his nap and not in the best of mood --- as well as dinner for the rest of the family. husband will be home tonight, taking care of kids. . get to store, but now late in picking up boys. Get boys in car, take them all home and arrive at my house at 6:20. A friend of mine is already at the house, has been there since 6pm --- we are going to a Twins game that evening and it begins in just over 30 minutes. I change into warmer clothing and we make it to downtown, just as the first inning is wrapping up. But we made it. The first thing i do is get a beer. We have 6th row seats behind home plate. quite lovely.

and that was my week.

The Road Less Traveled

The journey is treacherous, betraying, unreliable, enduring and flat out hard. All experts have written on the tiresome subject, all authors have enticed us with their glutinous verbiage of guilt, and all parents travel closely behind; watching the unraveling of the road as their teenager takes step after step after step - finding placement within their adult and independent world.

The 19th month old seeks within unmarred ground. The vision is narrowed, the feats are remarkable, yet simple, and each step, albeit numerable in comparison, comes equipped with an iron clad safety net.

The 13 year old hasn't a clue! (I had to put this in - as it is the truth)

Pathing and marking his way, 13 years of experience arm him with little. He was once able to toddle around in the open waters - knee deep, secure in his findings and life was complicated, but easily predictable. He is now out among them, and the water is deeper than he; even though he is a centimeter taller than his own mother, and he is expected to take all the knowledge from his playful days and make sense of it all. It is close to impossible. As parents, we still have the rope around his waste, standing and waiting, preparing for that time when he truly needs our help --- but for now, he continues, on his own. Off he travels.

Our relationship is altered, and still respected with this 13 year old.

Last night, he and his younger brother were playing a card game. Younger brother taunts older brother - older brother gets mad and tears up game sheets that younger brother holds dear to his heart.

"He made me tear them up! I do not owe him anything!"

All were there in this 'court of responsibility' discussion; late into the evening hours. The discussion no longer follows the guise of 'both of you say you're sorry, hug each other and go off and play nicely together.' Whatever brought this effortless moment of anger to fruition was not key to discussion. The moment of the act, the ownership of choice of the act and the responsibility in afterthought were the key players in conversation.

"He made me tear them up. I will not pay out any money. I do not owe him anything. Not even an apology!"

Adulthood, independence, maturity, growing up, responsibility, trustworthiness, dependability, value, choices, and character were all mapped out within the circuitous dialogue.

There was no resolve to the evening. Ultimately, it is up to him. No longer are we holding his hand - but trying to put our trust in his decision. We are there with firm words, guidelines, and strong, strong, suggestions, but, this journey is his. His road, his time, his moment to show the character of whom he is and what path he is choosing to walk.

Thanks for listening.

Whispering Moments

Our writing prompts always come from a book I am reading to the kids. I read a couple of chapters and then we dive into 'writing mode.' Sometimes we play music where we are at, other times, we sit quietly and today, we are all outside - listening to the world travel above us, besides us, behind us and moving quickly along the path. We are listening and taking advantage of life's whispering moments

In my attempt to catch up before it's too late, i shall mark down it's present moment. it whispers to me in all it's song

the airplane travels overhead; if sidney were outside, he would outstretch his arms like wings of a bird and repeat - eh-pae....eh-pae - all the while, dancing to the hum of the jets.

the car - maneuvering quickly around the bend of our small street.

a small breeze picks up and passes by, touching first, the back of my neck and moving onward to play within the entanglement of the trees.

A biker careens down the newly paved street, and elderly gentlemen walks his two springer spaniel puppies, dogs bark, airplanes fly, leaves swiftly move, and lucy is now beginning to read.

Both kids have agreed to let me share their writing of the morning.

SIMON

Fall is my favorite season, the winds rustle then flow. The leaves crackle at your every step. The tress lose their green and out comes the yellow, the red, the brown. The air gets smoky, the smell is pure. Even though Fall is amazing, it can not endure. The wrath of winter covers everything in white, the darkness falls and closes summers light. The comes Spring, the newing of flight. Birds are in the air, the light is so bright. Coming of summer, we come out to play; the squirrels, the chipmunks, the bees. For a while, we stay.

LUCY (she wrote hers in little snippets)
I am watching some birds in the sky. They are seagulls to my heart.
I am going to walk Charlie, the dog, he is slow but pads on gratefully
I hear some birds tweeting and hope they are chickadees, they are my favorite.
And now, I sit hungry, wanting lunch and Annie's Shells and pie.

A Memory

Today, in writing, we are journaling about memories. Lucy has decided to quickly jot down 12 memories while simon sits, cross legged upon the couch, eyes gazed out beyond his toes, thinking of something to write and describe.

In honor of a family friend, Tommy Trujillo, I shall dedicate this memory to him.

Memory is fickle - it carries an almost hallucinogenic quality - it makes things up if needed, blocks others out and can embellish any tale of remembrance.

Tommy was a gentle soul. He was soft spoken and a man who gave thought to what was said. He never jumped to conclusions, nor did he judge opinions. He called me, "Katie, my love," spoken like a melody - rising. Tommy never put on airs, never tried to be someone he wasn't and accepted you - the good, the bad and the ugly. I respect this man, whom without knowing, molded me in so many ways.

"Uncle" Tommy and "Auntie" Bobbie were fixtures at every family occasion - holidays, birthdays, confirmations, graduations, and weddings. Although I have not spoken to him since my babies were toddlers, my heart significantly feels his passing.

In memory of Tommy.
Thanks for listening.