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Out like a…
Goodbye March.
Oh my goodness, things have been delightfully busy around here. March found us out and about quite a lot. We took field trips to the lambing barn, a local dairy farm, the planetarium, and, of course, Wicked.
Have I mentioned just how much I am enjoying this homeschool journey? The world is truly our classroom.
Just today we attended a play, the musical Anne Frank, A Voice Heard. We arrived early and took a self guided tour of the historic theater, stopping to admire and discuss the Shakespearean themed stained glass and murals.
After the show, we went next door to a local sandwich shop for lunch where GW and I enjoyed a surprisingly deep conversation about prejudice and the holocaust, courage and personal responsibility. Oh and cookies. We also enjoyed some really good cookies.
From there we moseyed on over to the library. After teaching her how to look up books on their computer system, we did some further research on Anne Frank.
And then we researched snapping turtles. GW has been “dying to know what they eat and if they are cold-blooded or not.” We checked out a couple of books (to add to the 40 or so library books we already had at home) and then made our way over to the Y for a swim lesson.
On the way home we stopped by the state capitol for a covert mission and a stroll on the grounds.
Not everyday is like this. Most days we are home working on reading, writing, math and the like, but I love that we have the time and the ability to school this way.
And from the nearly-ever-present smile on my girl’s face, I know she does too.
For Julie
I called my sister this morning and she whined politely mentioned that I haven’t been posting often enough to suit her taste.
I have about 4.5 seconds before I have to walk out the door, but I hate to disappoint.
Here, Jules – this is for you:
Johnny Cash rocks!
Drink
You know, I don’t really call myself a writer.
Even though:
I write as often as I can.
I am 9/10ths of my way through the first draft of my first novel.
I have submitted work to publishing agencies.
And I have earned a very small amount of money for words that I have put on a page, but I don’t think of myself as a writer. I feel like I have to reach a certain level first. A nebulous level of success that will only become clear once I’ve reached it. On that distant day, I will declare myself a writer.
I could sit and ponder why it is that I am loathe to name myself that way…
Hmm…could it be that I prefer not to be constrained by labels? Perhaps something from my childhood?
…but deep down, I know why I can not will not do not say I am a writer. It is because I am afraid of the scrutiny that I think it would invite. I am afraid people would disagree.
Oh Heidi, you are not a writer. You just aren’t. Not really.
I was talking to a friend today and I mentioned that I don’t look at a glass as half-full or half-empty; I just drink it. And that’s truly the way I approach life.
I do.
When I want something, I go for it.
When I want to know something, I find it out.
I try to live each day drinking life in instead of trying to figure our what it all means. I just do.
How can I bring these two parts of myself into harmony? The one who is afraid to declare what I want to be, and the one who picks up the glass and drains every last drop?
I can’t.
I can’t be both fearless and afraid.
I can’t be the both conqueror and the conquered.
Okay, maybe I can, but I don’t want to be.
I won’t.
So here and now
for the first time ever
I declare:
I am a writer.
Just don’t tell anyone, okay?
Guess Where We Went Today?
Here’s a hint:
Not blatant enough? How about now:
We finally got to use our Christmas present from W – a matinee showing of Wicked.
All I can say is, it was amazing.
But as great as the show was, my favorite part was watching GW touch up her lip-gloss in the “fancy lady” mirrors in the ladies lounge. So glamorous.
I just love that girl.
Once upon a time there was a Heidi…
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