I’m at our homeschool co-op teaching writing all day. Hope to get up a more inspiring post later in the day. We do have a delightful teatime post for you tomorrow so stay tuned for that. In the meantime, check out William Safire’s article in My Delicious links in the sidebar. He write about “change” as it relates to this political season. Few do it as well as he does, if you’re a wordy kind of person, like me. See you on the flip side.
What would happen if you found gold in your backyard?
I’ve been slamming this week. That’s code for keeping my head bent over a keyboard, typing like a fiend and neglecting my children. It’s the last week of my online SAT/ACT essay class, tax season, the start up of spring semester at co-op (where I teach two writing classes) and the usual steady drip drip of email, writing and product development. As a result, my blogging this week has depended on the wonderful gifts of emails from you all! Today I share with you a delightful note from one of our Brave Writer Moms.
More from me next week. (Sign up for the workshop in Grand Rapids, if you are planning to attend. We need a count and it helps if you let us know early.)
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Hi Julie,
Thanks for all the time you take to blog your thoughts, insights and experiences. When I sit down to read them, I feel like I am sitting at Starbucks enjoying a Cinammon Dulce with a friend.
We have recently moved to Botswana, and so had months of change and re-adjustment. After our Christmas break, I decided that a fun way to get back into the swing of school would be to jump into a Keen Observation exercise together.
I took your advice about milking the experience, and we talked about it casually for a few days before the morning dawned. Our 7yr old butterfly evolved her own term for the exercise, and told her dad we were going to “dissect our disturbing drinks”:-).
Homeschoolers are a rarity here, so when we piled out of the car, armed with notepads, and enthusiasm, we were met with some startled stares. Once we had settled into a cozy corner, and ordered our drinks, we all immensely enjoyed the whole process. I went with the attitude of expecting a great time together, and gleaning whatever educational gems we could. It was a wonderful start to the new year!
Thank you Julie for sharing a different outlook with us. Stretching us, and affirming our relationship-building with our children along this
journey of homeschooling together.
Warmly,
Joanne
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I figure if Joanne can do this in Botswana, there’s no excuse for the rest of us! Cheers to your disturbing drinks, wherever you live!
When I heard about Tuesday Teatime, I was skeptical that it was something my two boys (ages 8 and 11) would want to do. But I decided to try it and was surprised that it is the one thing that the boys don’t let me forget about! One of the boys has developed a love of tea while one prefers hot chocolate with marshmallows. Sometimes we do a read aloud; sometimes we sit and read poems from one of their favorite children’s poetry books. We have had a few special themed teatimes, but most of the time we just grab a box of cookies out of the pantry. It doesn’t seem to matter how fancy it is. The next Tuesday they always exclaim, “Don’t forget today is Tuesday Teatime, Mom!”
Johannah wrote to me from college to tell me I must read Peter Pan. Then she wrote again later to tell me that the first five chapters are genius but after that it gets a bit racist. Still when Johannah calls writing genius, I listen. She’s a great reader, better than I am.
So I followed her link to the online version and began reading today any time I needed a break from SAT/ACT essays (which was often, I confess). Then I had to keep interrupting Jon from his work because I was laughing so hard, I felt guilty unless I involved another party.
Tonight as I closed up shop online, I took another quick peek at the first chapter (couldn’t resist) and read the following. Instantly I thought of you all.
Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children’s minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can’t) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.
Good night, good mothers.
