Subscribe in a Reader
-
Fresh
That last post is way past its expiration date and is beginning to smell. I am feeling the need to replace it with something fresh, but I like to use photos (or at least drawings) in my posts and I don’t have any.
Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, I do have some newish photos, but they are still on my camera and I don’t feel like uploading them right now. So there.
Just for fun, I will be posting some old photos that have absolutely nothing to do with what I am talking about. But, since I am not talking about anything of importance or even general interest, feel free to use them to make up your own story.
First topic up for discussion: School Uniforms
What’s that you say? Homeschools don’t have school uniforms? Au contraire mon frere… if you believe that, you haven’t been around our studio table lately. Or at all, really. Because thinking back, the whole I-only-wear-one-thing-but-in-different-colors started long, long ago. Remember this?
Anyway, a post-Christmas trip the the Hanna Anderson outlet, followed by a post-post-Christmas trip has yielded my girl a total of six dresses. Four are long sleeved, two are short. Five are striped and one has polka dots. Wearing anything else is out of the question – that would be a violation of the dress code.
Nicknames
GW stands for Girl Wonder, which is not my daughter’s real name. My husband and I have chosen to keep her true identity a secret, lest some evil villain whisk her away to his volcanic lair and try to feed her to a tank of genetically altered goldfish. Which would be bad.
When I started this blog, I called her Abby, which is not her real name either. After awhile, I started to slip up and call her Abby in real life. That was weird so she became Girl Wonder. And then I shortened it to GW because I am lazy.
Well, I am most consistent at being inconsistent, so let’s change it up again, shall we? Henceforth and forever, or until I get bored of it, GW shall be known herein by a name of her own choosing: Newt.
Um, no.
Try this:
I, of course, will remain Heidi because goldfish, genetically altered or no, do not concern me.
The Weather
We have had no real snow to speak of this year. Perhaps, Oregon is repenting of last year’s uncharacteristic crankiness. I can’t say that I mind… I have just come through some of the most stressful months I can remember. We are all fine now, but the unblogable ugliness was just. so. hard. to deal with for awhile. I have come to refer to November and December as my “winter of discontent”. So now I say: bring on the spring! Yesterday I bought some primroses for a container on my front walk. They look so bright and cheery; I daresay it may be several weeks before I begin neglecting them and they die.
Survival Skills Yesterday the artist formerly known as GW Newt sported a jauntily perched coon-skin hat all day long. “Can a coon-skin hat really be jauntily perched?” you ask. Why yes, of course.
There was much discussion about whether the tail should hang down the back or over the side. Apparently, Newt preferred the look of tail-in-back, but felt tail-on-the-side to be more comfortable. The tail happily wagged back and forth through morning scripture reading, a spelling test, composer and artist study, science, and history and shopping for new jeans. For me.
Newt and her coon-skin cap practiced survival skills at Ross Dress for Less (like Marshalls, Dillions, or TJ Maxx for the uninitiated). Her crafty resourcefulness kept us both alive and laughing through the perils of dingy dressing rooms, smelly public restrooms, and a pile of 15 pairs of rejected jeans. In the end, we made it back to civilization (and a Jamba Juice) with our kill: two great pairs of jeans, a cute skirt, and some sassy new shoes. All for me. For less.
I hope they don’t violate the dress-code…
Either way, the floor gets sticky
GW and I had big plans for cookie making today. Plans that only one of us was excited about. The other one of us (guess who) didn’t want to. Didn’t want the mess. Didn’t want the effort. Just wasn’t in the mood.
But a promise is a promise, so we started gathering ingredients. And then, someone (guess who this time) accidentally overturned a canister containing at least three pounds of sugar. All over the floor.
Hello mess.
Hello effort.
Goodbye cookie making today.
Know what? I was secretly glad.
I guess I really wasn’t in the cookie mood.
We have rescheduled for tomorrow. In the meantime, please enjoy this repost from last year. I’m hoping it will help me find my cookie mojo.
***
Cookies, Camels and Newborn Kings
GW and I have been making a mess of my kitchen Christmas cookies to deliver to friends and neighbors.
I collect nativity scenes, so I couldn’t pass up this set of cookie cutters. However, I do feel a bit conflicted about eating the baby Jesus. Mmm… sweet salvation.
Yes, my gingerbread boy is a bit pale. It’s because he’s going into shock from his badly broken arm. Perhaps the newborn king can help. GW made that one, and it’s not who you might think it is.
This newborn king is baby Elvis in a manger.
The King? Get it?
Is something wrong with me if I find that uproariously funny? Because I do.
Here he is again, visiting all the other broken cookies. In the fog. Where’s Rudolf when you need him?
Oh well. Perhaps a concert will cheer up those poor broken souls…
I’ll have a bluuuuue Christmas without you,
I’ll be so bluuuuue just thinkin’ about you…
Speaking of blue, have a gander at this little fella:
Nothing says Christmas like a blue camel.
I’ll have a bluuuuue camel…
Here’s hoping your Christmas season is full of baby Elvis’ (Elvi?), blue camels and time with those you love.
But most especially, I hope your heart is filled with the spirit of Christ, whose birth we celebrate this time of year.
Because mine sure is.
With love,
Heidi
Classic Beauty
In my last post, I mentioned that GW and I have been studying different composers. What I didn’t mention is that I am quite musically ignorant. I can barely tell a Mozart from a matzo ball. And the only instrument I can play is my iPod.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t teach the classics. I just means that I will be learning as much as my girl, sometimes more.
We have set aside Fridays as our Arts and Humanities day. This includes our weekly composer study.
It is far easier than it sounds, even for a novice like me.
I grab my laptop and we cuddle up together while listening to a free six minute “radio show” on Classics for Kids. A different composer is featured each month. The radio show gives information about the composer’s life and music in an upbeat, kid friendly way. I also check out CDs from our library that feature that composer’s work. We listen to them while doing schoolwork or cleaning the house. Occasionally, we will talk about how the music makes us feel. At the end of the month, GW completes Classics for Kids’s monthly activity sheet. It’s fun. We both enjoy those months that include a listening map. What a fun way to train your ear.
If you’d like to see an example, here is one on Edvard Grieg, this month’s featured composer.
That’s it. Easy, right?
This method has worked well for us for several months, but this month I decided to add a bit to it. I wanted a record of what GW was learning so she could go back and review. I created a notebooking page for her to record her thoughts on. I think we will be doing this from now on. If you are interested, you can download a PDF of my page on Edvard Grieg here.
Simple but effective.
Last spring we studied Giacomo Puchini. Neither one of us had ever listed to opera before. In fact, it is quite possible that the only exposure I’d ever had to opera was this:
Secretly, I thought it would be a bit boring, even if Cher Loretta did not. But, I felt it was my duty to remain neutral and let my girl make up her own mind.
In addition to the CDs, I checked out a DVD of Madame Butterfly from the library. I intended to show GW a few minutes worth so she could get a more complete picture of what the opera is all about. I put in the DVD and was surprised to find that I was enjoying myself. I was even more surprised to find that GW was as well. She begged to watch all 2-plus hours of it. If you are not familiar with Madame Butterfly, I should tell you that every bit of dialog is sung.
In Italian.
Of course, there were English subtitles, and those kept us up with what was happening in the story, but it was the music that was so moving. By the time Madame Butterfly reached her tragic conclusion, GW and I were both in tears.
Who knew?
A couple of weeks ago I was driving along and happened to hear on the radio that another Puccini opera, La Boheme, was playing the next weekend in Portland. I went home and looked online for tickets, but it appeared as though all the cheap ones were sold out and I did not have an extra $260 lying around for a pair of the good ones. Truthfully, these days I am hard pressed to find any extra money lying around, but I digress.
Luckily, I happen to know a secret to getting what you want.
Ask for it. The worst that can happen is a no.
I wrote a letter to the Portland Opera explaining my desire to take my eight year old to see La Boheme. I told them of her interest in Puccini and her love for Madame Butterfly. I explained that I am a poor homeschoolin’ mama and asked if they would be willing to offer me a couple of discounted seats. You know, to encourage a future patron of the arts? For good measure, I threw in this picture of my girl:
Two days after I mailed it off, I received a call from the lovely woman in charge of the Portland Opera’s Education and Outreach Department. I had no idea they even had such a department. It turns out that the Portland Opera is very supportive of educators.
She offered me student tickets for $20 each.
They were Orchestra, Row H.
Yes, please!
The day before the show, GW and I went back to the Classics for Kids website spent some time playing with their interactive orchestra chart.
The next evening, we entered the auditorium and she made a beeline for the orchestra pit.
“Mom, look! That’s the percussion section! And there are the strings! And the brass!”
The performers continued to tune their instruments as they smiled up at this enthusiastic young girl.
We took out seats moments before the lights dimmed. The show was breathtakingly beautiful. The music, the acting, the sets: it was simply amazing.
Between acts, I whispered to GW from the program what would be happening next. She also followed along with the subtitles they had projected above the stage.
She didn’t fidget. She didn’t look away. I’m not sure if she even blinked.
It was magical.
Last week GW wrote a wonderful little thank you note to the Portland Opera. We both got a response. For her, some encouraging words and an invitation to write or email and discuss opera anytime. She is already drafting a response. For me, an offer for another pair of discounted tickets.
We will be going to Orphee next month. I paid $30 for the pair of tickets.
Lessons learned?
You are never too old, or too young, to appreciate beauty.
I don’t need to know everything in order to teach my daughter well. Learning together is really enjoyable for both of us.
Quality educational experiences do not have to be expensive or complicated.
Always ask for what you want; you may be surprised at how much you receive.
Cher Loretta was right. Opera is actually really cool – even if, as in my case, your date is holding your hand with one of hers and a stuffed animal with the other.
Harmony
It has been nearly two hours since I kissed my girl goodnight. So can someone tell me why in the world do I hear an original harmonica composition coming from her room? Heaven help us, the girl loves her music.
When she was five, we were given an old piano. I spent a few weeks turning it into something beautiful and then enrolled GW in piano lessons. She loved them. The lessons, that is.
The practicing? Not so much.
I begged. I pleaded. I bribed. I threatened. And then I came to the conclusion that she just wasn’t ready. Coincidentally, this epiphany coincided with our big move home to Oregon, so there was really no fuss about discontinuing her lessons.
Over the past year and a half, GW occasionally asked me when she was going to start taking lessons again. I always replied with an enigmatic “When the student is ready, the teacher appears” and then I would catch a fly with a pair of chopsticks.
Not buying it? Okay, what I’d really say was something along the lines of, “I don’t know, kid. We’ll see.” And then I waited and watched for her to be ready. In the meantime, we began studying different composers and integrating their music into our day.
Three or four months ago, GW pulled her old books out of the piano bench and declared that if I wasn’t going to get her lessons, she would just have to teach herself. She started “practicing” nearly every day.
The student was ready.
I sat down with her and we made a deal. I will pay for lessons and make sure she has time to practice each day but only if she will practice on her own. If she seems to need it, I will give her one gentle reminder. Other than that, she is on her own.
Know what?
It is working out fine.
Not only is she completing her assigned practices, she is also practicing scales that her teacher hasn’t assigned and working on original compositions. All this without a word from me.
But can someone tell me why it is that most of those compositions seem to make heavy use of the sustaining pedal and chords heretofore never imagined?
What’s the point?
I began homeschooling a little over a year ago – but even in that short time, I have developed a personal philosophy for education:
Give plenty of opportunities for learning.
Provide ample inspiration.
And then wait until the child is ready.
Everyday I am seeing evidence that it is working. From music to math and everything in between, she is choosing to learn.
And I couldn’t be more pleased.
An Enchanting Garden
Happy Labor Day!
In honor of this day, I’d like share with you a wee bit of labor GW and I engaged in over the weekend.
We built a fairy garden to bring a bit of nature into our home.
Here’s the view from above:
With the exception of the tiny tropical “tree” we spent a whopping $1.99 on and the $1.00 fairy house from the Chinese market, all of the materials used were found in or around our home. Grass was created from moss we harvested from around our mailbox. A couple of lovely weeds from the yard complete the shrubbery.
We used a bit of hot glue and twigs to form the bridge spanning a pebbled creek bed. A tiny walking path leads from the house to the shell pond (treated with a layer of spray shellac to keep from leaking). More shells, this time used as bowls, adorn the stone table. A few more stones and shells round out the scene.
I’m not sure which of us is more enchanted with our new toy. Imagine our surprise when a fairy moved right in! It appears as though she spent so much time enjoying her new home that she completely forgot to bring in the washing.
Don’t miss out. Why not have new posts delivered to your inbox?
How to Turn a Chore Into an Adventure
We got up early, both to beat the heat and to heighten the sense of adventure. Everything seems more exciting if you have to get up early for it.
It’s a fact.
Though, I think someone forgot to inform my girl. When I woke her at 6:00, GW cracked one bleary eye and said, “humnazzzzzz”. Then rolled herself up in her comforter and turned her back to me.
I replied with a whispered, “We’ll stop for donuts” and then had to run to keep up with my eager child.
Everything seems more exciting if donuts are involved.
We arrived at the farm just a bit after seven, fingers still sticky from our sweet morning treat, and the hunt began. We were looking for rows of green in a sea of yellow.
“Look Mom, over there!”
Betty, the farmer’s wife, told me that a leaky irrigation pipe had rendered these few rows too muddy to harvest. The beans were ours for the picking. Betty told me to just rip up the whole plant and stuff it in a lawn bag. I could pull the beans off at home.
GW and I set to work, pulling plants from the dirt while keeping a weather eye out for snakes. When she got tired, she climbed into the back of the car and started picking beans from the vine.
Four lawn bags later, we headed home, choosing a new way for fun. When we came to a river with no bridge, I asked GW to scout around for a fairy we could ask for help.
One came, but not the kind she was expecting.
Safely on the other side, we continued our journey pausing only to race a train down the road.
It won.
But we did too.
We arrived home satisfied in the knowledge that an ordinary Thursday had been transformed into an adventure.
Up next? The dishes!
Someplace New
One of our rules for Summer is “Go someplace new every week.”
So we went here:
I have lived in Oregon, an hour from the beach, nearly all my life and I had never seen the inside of a lighthouse. On a whim we decided to remedy that situation with a visit to Yaquina Head Lighthouse in Newport, Oregon.
It was so windy up there on the bluff, GW threatened to blow away, much like a young Mary Poppins, sans umbrella.
Hold on sweetie!
We fought our way through the gale to the lighthouse entrance.
That little house-like section originally held oil for the lantern nearly 90 feet above. I’m not sure when they stopped lighting the lamp with oil. The lighthouse was automated in 1966, but they may have stopped lighting the oil lamp earlier than that. However long ago it was, it has not been long enough to erase the scent of oil that still faintly permeates the area.
We waited in line, listening to a guide share some of the lighthouse’s history and shooing the flies that gathered so thickly about, until it was our turn to ascend the 114 stairs to the top. Once again I thought of Mary Poppins and envied her ability of sliding up banisters.
Why was Mary Poppins so much on my mind?
GW is not a fan of heights.
Nor of open riser stairs.
I wasn’t sure she’d make it. At one point she made the mistake of looking down. She then turned back to W and tried to give up.
However, since down was just as bad as up at this point she decided to continue. We assured her that the view from the top would be well worth it.
We were wrong. It wasn’t even photo worthy. The sea and sky were behaving like eighth grade girls and wore coordinating outfits that day. We could hardly tell where on began and the other ended.
Tell me girls still do that. That it hasn’t gone the way of other fads from my own dusty past – like wearing overalls with one strap undone.
So the view outside the window was ho-hum, but the lamp was fascinating and beautiful. And It still lights: two seconds on, two seconds off, 24 hours a day.
You can’t actually go into the bulb room. You view the light from a hatch in the floor accessed by a set of steep, ladder-like stairs. We took it in in all of it’s grandeur for about 4 seconds and then climbed down to make room for the hundreds of people waiting their turn behind us.
And then there was this:
I have to admit that coming down caused me to feel a bit shaky and dizzy. It really was high. But we made it down without incident.
Look at this face.
What you see here is a mixture of triumph and relief.
Back on solid ground “terrifying” was downgraded to “thrilling”.
It turned out to be a jolly holiday after all.
Periwinkle Priorities
One day last week, as I sat by the edge of the pool, I struck up a conversation with another swim team mom. She made a comment about how most kids don’t have much unstructured time these days. Though I fully agreed, I felt that we are an exception to that. I mean, I homeschool, you know. GW has plenty leisure time to play at what she likes, to watch clouds, or explore the world around her. Doesn’t she?
Take, for example, the recent day we spent at one of her favorite places.
We took a leisurely stroll through the well manicured English gardens, pausing to admire the paper lanterns that had been hung for an upcoming party.
GW stood on a brick platform and noticed how the construction seemed to magnify her voice, causing a bit of an echo. That brought to mind the myth of unfortunate Echo in love with the vain Narcissus who only had eyes for his own reflection. I shared the tale as we walked under the ivy covered archways and down to the creek.
It was a warm day, so we slipped off our flip-flops and waded in the cool water, laughing at our own distorted reflections. A photographer was there shooting senior pictures of a young woman. She and her subject ventured out into the creek near us, trying to forever capture the girl’s youth.
The girl’s mother watched from the bank while the photographer’s assistant bravely balanced on a log to soften the light with a photographer’s umbrella. Suddenly, his arms began to pinwheel, and down he fell, bottom first into the creek. GW and I gave sympathetic looks while laughing behind our hands.
The soggy man and his party moved on to a drier location, but we stayed on, enjoying ourselves.
Looking down, I noticed that there were hundreds of tiny snail-like creatures clinging to the rocks. When I was a girl I called them periwinkles, though I don’t know if that is their true name. I could look it up, but I’d prefer to allow them this bit of nostalgia.
GW was enchanted. She picked one up and examined it closely. Then another. And another. Each new find was a revelation.
After a few more moments, I began to get bored. I decided it was time to go and made my way to the edge of the creek. I turned back to call my girl but was struck by how absorbed she was in her study. I chose to allow her this time, thinking to myself that it should be short-lived. In another five minutes or so, she would tire of periwinkles and be ready to go home.
And so I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
It was difficult to be still, to forget about the things I felt were more important, and yet I waited. Nearly an hour later, GW carefully returned her new friends to their home and joined me on the bank.
As we walked to the car, I considered how I often impose time restrictions on my daughter’s activities.
Yes, you can do that. Be creative. Dream. But do try to wrap it up before lunchtime, please.
Schedules are important. But perhaps they are less important than a creek full of periwinkles and the freedom to experience them on your own terms.
I’m going to try to remember this lesson.
I am sure that my daughter will remember this day.
Summer Rules
Inspired by Wise Craft’s Rules for Summer, GW and I have come up with a list of our own.
- Be dressed and ready for the day every weekday morning by nine.
- Spend some time outside everyday, even if it is raining.
- Any chores not done during the week must be completed on Saturday.
- Go someplace new every week.
- Do a little reading, a little writing and a little bit of math each day. If a little is too little, do a lot.
- Try it yourself first.
- It’s okay to watch tv on Saturdays and an occasional weekday after dinner.
- Fruits and vegetables may be eaten at any time of day except for right after a meal.
- Don’t interrupt Mom while she is in the bathroom. Whatever it is can usually wait.
- Always keep a little cash on hand for the ice-cream man.
What are you doing this summer?
Sounds Resonable to Me
Over the last month, GW has been experimenting with radish seeds.
No, that is not like smoking banana peels.
She has been using Tops Learning Systems radish seed science booklet.
It was a wonderful study and I would highly recommend it. We both learned new things: geotropism, anyone?
And the things GW learned definitely seemed to stick. We were doing review questions today and she amazed me with her grasp of the material.
Except… there was this one question going back to an experiment sprouting seeds both in dark and light conditions. At the end of a week, the seedlings in the dark were much taller than the seedlings in the light.
So the review question was:
An empty box has been laying in a grassy field for several weeks, open side down. If you lift it up and peek underneath, predict what you might see.
GW hardly waited for me to answer when she shouted out “Rats!”
Remind me not to look under any boxes I see lying around.
If you want to read a great a review of this product, Heather from OMSH posted one here.
Once upon a time there was a Heidi…
-
-
-
-
