There is spring in our kitchen...
comfort in our sitting room...
imagination in our hallway...
and love in our play room...
We're all back together, and with one of us tucked in bed the other two are ready for our one night of TV. That's a short and sweet one for you.
family We did it. We got back outside. Sun and relative warmth (mid 40s will do) and the need to pick up the mail lured us. We are now down to counting the hours left in our week-long stint as a single parent household, and it's hard to decide which of us misses the daddy more. He is, after all, the one who usually gets the mail. That being said, since he's business-ing in the snow he might be the happiest to be coming home. Thankfully we seem to have dodged the threat of rain and snow this week and the foreseeable forecast is a return of the warming trend. Ahhh.
Reading in the morning, a trip to the bookstore to get my new book (released today, and I finished my tour back through the earlier releases in time), puzzles, lunch, books, journal, piano, and finally a walk through the neighborhood. We even saw neighbors. And lots, and lots of birds. The footpath may look peaceful, dead even thanks to being pre-bloom spring, but the cacophony was a sure giveaway to its surfeit of avian inhabitants.
The robin always makes me think of spring. I know they're here all year round, many of them anyhow, but we see many more of them in the spring, hopping around in our fields looking for worms and gathering material for their nests.
The red wings are prevalent in our pond spaces and fill the air with their throaty rattles.
We have seen this little Downy on every one of our walks along the path this year, but I believe he's new the area because he wasn't around for our bird walks last year.
And the daddy cardinal. His chirupping song is the song of my childhood. They performed often in our back yard and I can still hear my mom whistling back to them, mimicking their calls. Maybe that's because she still does this all summer long.
And this little guy? He's on all of my walks as well. His name may be Calvin, but he more often makes me think of Linus.
And the book cataloging project? It's still underway.
Sunny and cold. It's like the spring is taunting us. I look out the window in the morning at vivid blue skies and golden sun that just beckon us outside, but it's cold. Strangely enough, I would have called these temperatures warm just a month ago, and we didn't hesitate to go out in it, but now that we've had a taste of a warming trend the low to mid thirties is keeping us in.
So we stayed inside and played in the middle ages this morning. We finished his knight's helmet.
And I'm pretty sure that's Sir Gawain battling Anubis.
We did get out of the house for dinner, though, and to take a field trip for one last (or first, in Calvin's case) stop by Grampa's office before he leaves it for good later this week. It's really a very pretty building with lots of history.
And since tomorrow is not only the release of the book I've been waiting for, but also supposed to make it over 40 degrees, I think we'll spend a little more time out and about then. Every once in a while you just have stay home and play knights and Egyptians, though. I wonder if that's anything like pirates and robots.
architecture, family, photography I love the medieval era. Actually, I could probably say that about any number of historical eras. What I really love is history. I love it almost as much as I love Saturdays, that day when we can always find a book sale somewhere to peruse. My mother was relieved when I assured her today that we also donate books to book sales, we're not just hoarding them all on our shelves. What I failed to mention is that the incoming volume probably far outweighs the outgoing. At least for right now. I didn't take a picture of today's finds, but I was really excited to bring home an illustrated hardcover of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and a copy of the classic Pinocchio as illustrated by Roberto Innocenti in library binding. I love library binding almost as much as I love Saturdays, history, and the medieval era.
When we got back from our morning out there was a box waiting for us on the front porch. If you've ever seen Christmas Vacation maybe you remember the ringing of the doorbell, each echo sinking further and further into the deep notes of doom. I heard that sound in my head the minute I saw what I knew to be a box containing curriculum on our front porch. Last weekend Jon and I went to a homeschooling book fair to visit Math-u-See, and check out their math manipulatives. I have no intention of starting a rigid curriculum of any kind with Calvin at this age, and after listening to the rep lecture us about having to take tests after each section, having to complete each section in order, yadda yadda, I was internally screaming "No! No! This rigidness is exactly what we are trying to avoid!" But I really liked the manipulatives so we ordered them, and, because another part of my inner self was crying out "I don't know how to do this!", we also ordered the primer book and teaching guide for me to read through.
My intention had been to read through the books and make my own plans for how to use the manipulatives to fit our needs, but now that Calvin can read the instructions for himself he is free to make some of those decisions on his own, too. His excitement over this stuff kind of surprised me, although I'm sure it shouldn't have. The moment I unpacked it he was sorting the blocks, and then, while I was cataloging and putting away our new book sale books, he launched right into the primer. He finished the first nine lessons (mainly number recognition) before he moved on and I breathed a sigh of relief.
And then, like a good child should, he played with the packaging, which is something I'm much, much more comfortable with.
I still have no intention of officially starting Calvin on this stuff. I balk at the mention of tests or curriculum, but I'm nervous about teaching math concepts without a little guidance. It's not that I'm uncomfortable with math, just that I'm unsure of my ability to teach it. What a terrible thing for a homeschooler to say! How many times have I told the doubters that anyone can teach, and learn, anything? But while I may not use the math curriculum, for some reason I feel better having that guidance available, and I really like the manipulatives. I'll get back to you on the rest of it.
books, homeschooling We finished the castle today. After a week in the making it was a glorious moment followed by much castle play.
We also went to a stage performance of Peter Rabbit that was fun, but didn't catch Calvin's imagination the way previous plays have done. That's okay with me; Peter isn't one of my favorite characters or stories anyhow.
Then, all week Calvin has looked forward to my dad's retirement party, and tonight it was finally here. Being at Gandy Dancer he got two chances to see trains going by right outside the window, and even though we were there for hours he was happily entranced by the puzzles, books, and art materials we brought for his entertainment, as well as by the the people who spoke to him and the slide show of his Grampa, shown over and over again. I was proud of him. That's what parents do, isn't it? Feel proud of their children.
All of my life my parents have continually reminded me of how proud they are of me. Children take their parents for granted, and as I watch Calvin I know that's exactly the way it should be, but tonight, watching the slide show and hearing others talk about my dad was a different view. I never thought much about him in his job. He has always been my dad—I knew what he did for a living and knew he was good at it, but at home he was my dad and that was what counted. To me. To so many others it was his integrity at work that counted, and the quality of his working years was obvious in the joy of memories, and sorrow at loss, of those present tonight. It wasn't news to me, but rather a spotlight on the previously un-noted, and it was my turn to be proud of him.
At the end of the evening, as we stood in the foyer waiting for our car, Calvin chatted lightly with one of the greeters about trains and dinner while he donned his sweater for the ride home. I wasn't paying much attention, but I heard her ask him his age and tell him that she had a two year old boy at home. On our way out the door she said to me "He's adorable, so healthy." I thanked her and said goodnight, but it wasn't until we were almost all the way home that I realized exactly what she had said to me, and recognized the immense compliment. "Healthy." It still rings in my ears as a resounding commendation. Full time mom's don't have regular performance reviews, something I often lament to my fully understanding mother.
But then my father has often commented to me that very few people ever leave behind legacies in their place of work, that if we wish to leave a lasting mark on the world that mark must be made in our children, and in our children's children. Tonight we saw the legacy my father leaves at work—and he is likely to be one of the few who is not quickly forgotten—and that other legacy, the one we are all creating, who is now a healthy, inquisitive four year old boy.
There's a connective fiber somewhere in here, a strong thread about pride, families, and legacies, but though I started with it in mind I can't seem to find the end again in order to tie it up. It's leaving me with an unfinished feeling; no witty wrap-up, no full circle comment. Or maybe that's the metaphor in and of itself.
We made a castle this morning.
life