Moments With Living Books

Oh I suppose that there is a textbook somewhere that would teach us about badgers. Or I suppose that we could do a google search and gather some information. But better still is to glean from what Charlotte Mason called "living books"—those that are rich with ideas and literary language.

On a recent homeschool day, I read to Bekah from The Burgess Animal Book for Children, the chapter about Digger the Badger and Glutton the Wolverine.

Peter Rabbit says of Digger,

"I visited him, but I didn't find out much. He's a regular old grouch. He isn't the least bit neighborly. It took me a long time to find him. He has more holes that anybody I ever knew, and I couldn't tell which one is his home. When I did find him, he gave me a terrible scare. I didn't see him until I was right on top of him, and if I hadn't jumped, and jumped quickly, I guess I wouldn't be here this morning. He was lying flat down in the grass and he was so very flat that I just didn't see him. When I told him that I wanted to know all about him and his ways, he replied that it was none of my business how he lived or what he did, and that was all I could get out of him."

So much learned about the badger in that very first paragraph of the chapter! But it got better.

While reading the chapter from Burgess, we remembered the passage in the Little House book, On the Banks of Plum Creek, in which Laura encounters a badger. Although it wasn't a part of the "lesson plans", Kati ran upstairs to get her copy of Plum Creek, and we had an impromptu reading of Chapter 5.

Pa had given Laura strict instructions never to go near the deep shady pool alone, but as she is playing one hot, dusty day, the water keeps calling to her. At first she dismisses the idea, then considers going just to look at it, then considers just wading in the edge of it...then she is on her way. As she nears the water hole however, a mysterious-looking, furry, flat animal is in the path and it snarls at Laura. Frightened, she leaves the swimming hole and runs back home.

But in the quiet of that night, as Laura lies in bed listening to Pa and Ma outside the cabin, Pa playing his fiddle, her conscience begins to prick her.

"Everything was beautiful and good, except Laura. She had broken her promise to Pa. Breaking a promise was as bad as telling a lie. Laura wished she had not done it, and if Pa knew, he would punish her."

"At last Laura could bear it no longer."

Laura crept out of bed and out of the cabin and quietly confessed to Pa what she had done, and told him about the curious animal who had stopped her.

"Then for a long time he did not say anything and Laura waited. Laura could not see in the dark, but she leaned against his knee and could feel how strong and kind he was."

The next evening, after Laura had spent the day being "watched", Ma said to her,

"Tomorrow you and I are going to look for that badger. I am sure that he saved you from drowning, for if you had gone to that deep water, you would have gone into it. Once you begin being naughty, it is easier to go on and on, and sooner or later something dreadful happens."

There. We had begun the lesson learning about the curious badger, but along the way we had seen much more. The beauty of a tender conscience. Pa's kind, gentle strength. Just consequences for disobedience. Laura's submissive spirit in receiving those consequences. The principle that one sin often leads to another.

So many ideas that are powerful and noble and true are found in "living books."

Spring Cleaning Update

The bathroom sparkles and sighs with relief.

Bekah excitedly asks, "What can I scrub next?"

The other rooms shout, "Me too! Me too! When is it my turn?!"

Kati says, "Let's make a list of chores for the other rooms now."

And I groan, "Oh, my aching back."

(I am taking the day off from Spring Cleaning.)

To Each His Own

While Dad, Mom, and Kati watched an Agatha Christie mystery on TV...

...Bekah and Pinky watched an episode of Little House on the Prairie.

Spring Cleaning

A new week. New plans. All weekend I have been looking ahead to today—the day that I will begin Spring Cleaning.

Never in my life have I done this thing called "Spring Cleaning." My mother used to do Spring Cleaning, but I was not involved, so it was an enigma...just a hazy vision of curtains coming down and going back up, scrub buckets filled with soapy water, new shelf paper, and a fresh, clean feeling of house-y well-being. But until now, Spring Cleaning has not been in my real world.

What has me suddenly ready to embark on this new venture? I'm not sure. Maybe it's the multitude of days we have spent this winter being snowed in, being inspired to do projects and to cook, but not to clean. Maybe it's the feeling of too much icy water and slush on boots being tracked in the back door. Or maybe it's the fact that last week I was captured by this post and its photo of the teal scrub brush at my favorite homemaking blog Pleasant View Schoolhouse... and then for some reason I clicked the "Cleaning" category in the sidebar and read every single post. (Think that sounds mundane? You click it and see if you don't come away thinking about microfiber dust cloths and lavender-scented ironing spray.) I am also at a season of my life in which I don't have a baby or a toddler, and I have a teenage daughter who not only is a willing helper, but also gets excited about my projects! (How great is that?)

So today we begin Spring Cleaning. We are beginning with my smallest room, the bathroom, because it seems attainable and I want to get off to a good start. (Although I am inspired by Anna at Pleasant View, I am not Anna. I. Am. Slow. And it makes my head spin to read of all that Anna does in the same 24 hours that I have!) I have compiled a list of all the things I want to accomplish over the week, and we will dig in right after our school time.

I am anticipating our home having that fresh, clean feeling of house-y well-being.

Valentine Tea Party

First of all, if this is the equivalent of looking at someone's endless slide show of their vacation pictures, feel free to exit and my feelings won't be hurt. But, personally, I feel the need to document this for those who might share my opinion that this is one of the cutest things ever. (I suppose that could be perceived as "grandmother talk" too. And that would be right.)

While Brian and Kristin went out for a Valentine lunch, the rest of us had a Valentine tea party, per Bekah's request. And what a grand time we had...all with dress-ups and our uptown voices and pinky fingers extended and pink heart cookies and plenty of sugar-and-cream and lots of "Kati Dah-ling, I believe we are out of cream" and "Kati Dah-ling, could I have another cup of tea?" And a certain little boy in his diaper because his clothes were in the dryer recovering from a spill. And some polite giggles when that same diapered boy carefully picked the chocolate drizzle off his cookie. Yes, it was grand.

Blessed by Love

Valentine’s Day:

expressions of love

normal Sunday afternoon (first in weeks due to snow and sickness)

more Valentine exchanges

Great Backyard Bird Count (details here)

pot roast dinner

dessert by Kati ("Gooey Chocolate Stack"...yum!)

all day with my sweetheart

♥ ♥ ♥

Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us,

that we should be called the sons of God.

I John 3:1a

The Rock

Years ago, I read a biography about John and Betty Stam, young American missionaries to China who were martyred for their faith. Their story was inspiring on many levels. This young couple lived in a hostile environment, were eventually captured by Communists, and were taken, along with their three-month-old baby daughter, from their home in 1934 to face imminent death. The night of their capture, John penned these words to his fellow workers at China Inland Mission:

Dear Brethren,
My wife and baby and myself are today in the hands of the Communists, in the city of Tsingteh. Their demand is twenty thousand dollars for our release.
All our possessions and supplies are in their hands, but we praise God for peace in our hearts and a meal tonight. God grant you wisdom in what you do, and us fortitude, courage, and peace of heart. His is able—and a wonderful Friend in such a time.
Things happened so quickly this AM. They were in the city just a few hours after the ever-persistent rumors really became alarming, so that we could not prepare to leave in time. We were just too late.
The Lord bless and guide you, and as for us, may God be glorified by life or by death.

In Him,

John C. Stam

I was (and still am) inspired by the calm faith that these words reveal. "We praise God for peace in our hearts and a meal tonight." "May God be glorified by life or by death."

I was also particularly moved by God's miraculous protection over the baby and by Betty's tender care and thoughtful provision for her baby daughter, as she knew she was going to her own death. My mother's heart cannot even imagine the anguish.

But to me, perhaps the most inspiring part of the book was this poem included in the epilogue, a poem written by Betty before she was married, before she went to China, before the story that would be her life's story was completed. This beautiful poem, "Stand Still and See," has become a part of me over the years...I have read it, memorized it, meditated on it, shared it with others. It is my prayer that it will touch a place in your heart as you see the Rock in its words, and in your life.

STAND STILL AND SEE

I'm standing, Lord.
There is a mist that blinds my sight.
Sharp jagged rocks, front, left, and right.
Hover, dim, gigantic in the night.
Where is the way?

I'm standing, Lord.
The black rock hems me in behind
Above my head a moaning wind
Chills and oppresses heart and mind.
I am afraid!

I'm standing, Lord.
The rock is hard beneath my feet.
I nearly slipped Lord on the sleet.
So weary, Lord and where a seat?
Still must I stand?

He answered me, and on His face
A look ineffable of grace,

Of perfect, understanding love,
Which all my murmuring did remove.

I'm standing, Lord.
Since Thou hast spoken, Lord I see
Thou hast beset; these rocks are Thee;
And since Thy love encloses me,

I stand and sing.

February

The calendar says it's February.

This SNOW says it's February...

and so does this ice!

This icy gift from Dad says it too.

It sure seems like February when you're walking through the tracks of your dad's truck.

The heart whispers "February."

Homemade Valentines say it too.

This trio is tweeting "February."

Now can we fast forward to March?

Snowly and Sally Lunn

The winter is going slowly, snowly by.

Here in the mid-Atlantic, we don't usually see much snow. But this winter, we have been walloped by three winter storms so far—one in December, one last weekend, and this one. Yikes! I had been enjoying winter's pleasures until this one...and now, I am officially looking forward to lovely blossoming spring!

To make the best of some of our snowed-in days, Kati and I have been working on organizing those recipes. Oh my. What a job. I began this task several years ago, but stalled out. Therefore, I had organized myself into a greater state of disorganization, meaning that no recipe had a permanent home. When it was time to look for a recipe, I might find it in the notebook I had begun to organize. Or maybe it was in the stack of recipes I had used recently ("recently" meaning in the past six months...or more). Or maybe it was in the Pier I shopping bag (yes) of folders that I had sorted into categories. Or it might be in that same shopping bag but not in a folder. Or it might be on my shelf of cookbooks, or inserted in a cookbook. Many times I have done what I thought was an exhaustive search for a certain recipe and come up empty...only to have Kati come to the rescue and put her hands on it within a few minutes.

So are you getting the idea that this gargantuan task was long overdue? It was.

I am happy to report that major progress has been made...and the end is in sight! (Thanks, Kati!)

A side benefit of spending quality time with all my recipes is finding some forgotten treasures. This past weekend, I made Sally Lunn bread for the first time in years. I used to make it quite often, but neither Kati nor Bekah had ever even heard of it, so it must have been a while!

There is some history behind this recipe. Sally Lunn bread dates back to colonial times. The name is believed to be of French derivation, "soleil-lune" (sun-moon), and describes the bread's golden color.

And the more personal history is the fact that this particular recipe came from Ron's elementary school principal. Now Ron and the late Mrs. T were not exactly on recipe sharing terms...not at all. (I don't think that they ever discussed bread on any of his visits to her office. ~wink~) I clipped this recipe that Mrs. T had submitted to our local newspaper years ago. (I will add that I had the privilege of meeting Mrs. T as an adult, and found her to be a delightful lady.)

Another aside: Bekah scorned the name. You may remember the unusual relationship of sound and taste in Bekah's world. Well, she disapproved of the "Lunn" part. "It just doesn't sound good," said she. So, at least for this time, we renamed it "Sally Rose Bread"! (And she loved it.)

Mrs. T’s Sally Lunn Bread (aka Bekah’s Sally Rose Bread) 4 1/2 cups flour 1/3 cup sugar 1 teaspoon salt 1 package active dry yeast 1 1/4 cups milk 1/2 cup butter 3 eggs, beaten Combine 2 cups flour, sugar, salt, and yeast into large bowl. Stir well. Heat milk and butter until warm. Gradually add to dry ingredients and beat at low speed, about 3 minutes. Add eggs and remaining flour. Mix well, cover, and let rise one hour or until doubled. Stir down and spoon into greased and floured 10-inch tube pan. Cover and let rise until double, about one hour. Bake at 400 degrees for 50 minutes. Serve warm with butter. Note: I usually use two loaf plans instead of the tube pan, and decrease the baking time to 35 minutes.

Another Plus

One of the (many) benefits of home education:

You can have school on a Snow Day...

...but take a sunny day off for a trip to the park!

The Blessing of Honora

This precious little girl is now one year old.

Nora, can it be more than a year ago that Papa and I were waiting oh-so-anxiously for a phone call from across the miles saying that you were about to arrive?

It seems like such a short time ago. I seem to be saying that a lot these days (like here and here and here). Is that because I am getting older...or because I am getting wiser? Or is it because you are my grandbaby and I do not live with you day by day or get up with you at night when you are hungry or sick or teething?

Well, whatever the reason, you are now ONE and I am so thankful for the blessing of you!

I wish I could be celebrating with you in person...watching you eat your birthday cupcake, watching you as you open your presents (and seeing your eyes glaze over when the package contains something to wear and your eyes light up when it reveals a new toy), watching your big sister Eve enjoying your birthday cupcakes and your birthday presents as much as you, giving you birthday hugs and kisses. But you are in the land of snow and mountains and sledding and I am here.

So I will choose to be grateful that you are a baby most blessed! You are a happy baby. You have a precious big sister. And you are loved and tenderly cared for by wonderful dedicated parents who want you to know Him.

Could a Gran possibly ask for more?

Happy Birthday, dear Nora!

The Royals

When most people get one of their checkers across the checkerboard to the very back row, they triumphantly call, “King me!”

Not these girls.

Granddaughter Maddie (5) and Bekah (8)

Instead, they shout, “Queen me!”

"Morning Time"

Several years ago, I stumbled across an idea that breathed new life into our homeschool. “Morning Time” has become an anticipated and much-loved part of our day, and I believe that we are all the richer for it.

It is a simple idea, and yet it is profound. I first read about “Morning Time” one summer on Cindy Rollins’ blog, Ordo Amoris (which is always full of mind food). She wrote about the benefits her family has reaped by dedicating a small amount time each morning to learning the things that she had deemed important. Cindy shared this childhood poem to illustrate what she was trying to accomplish:

Little drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean,

And the beauteous land.

She wrote,

My Morning Time is a way to collect little grains of sand. It should not be a way to complicate life but a way to simplify it.

When I read this, I knew that this was something I wanted to do! You see, there were things that I wanted my children to learn (actually, I wanted to learn too!), but they were things that were too often overlooked or put off for another time. I wanted my girls to know the words to “Come, Ye Thankful People, Come”, to recite Psalm 100, to recognize Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, to recite “The Swing,” to begin each day with the Living Word...and “Morning Time” seemed to hold an answer. So come the beginning of our new school year, we gave it a try. And, several years later, it remains an integral part of our day and (I am repeating myself here) we are all the richer for it.

We have tweaked our “Morning Time” inclusions and routine over the years, but this is what it looks like currently.

BIBLE READING

This year we’re reading through all of the Gospels.

BIBLE MEMORY

We began the year with Ephesians 5:15, 16 and then continued to work on Luke 2: 1-20. Now it’s time to select a longer passage. In addition, I am also having Bekah memorize the books of the Bible in order to aid her in locating Scripture passages.

LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

Sadly, we finished reading this book last week (after slowly reading through it for about a year). Now I am considering a classic work of Christian fiction to fit into this space (original Pilgrim’s Progress, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?).

SING A HYMN

We’re learning “Crown Him With Many Crowns.” We aim at memorization, which usually takes 6 to 8 weeks per hymn.

POETRY RECITATION

Each of us recites the poem we’re memorizing. Currently Kati is learning Shelly’s “Ozymandias”, Bekah is reciting Dickinson’s “Hope is the Thing With Feathers”, and I am working on Yeats’ “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”. (Guess who of us has the most difficulty with poetry memorization?)

POETRY EXPOSURE

I choose a poet to study for a time. We read a selected work of our chosen poet three or four days in a row, and often read a biography of him or her. Currently, we’re reading poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning.

LISTEN TO A PIECE OF CLASSICAL MUSIC

Typically, we study a classical composer. This term we are listening to the music of George Gershwin.

ART APPRECIATION

This year we have studied the art of Vermeer, and are now enjoying the works of folk artist Edward Hicks. We keep this very simple. I choose several paintings by that artist, we look at each print for a week or two at a time, and we usually read a simple biography about the artist.

Does this sound daunting? Or would it surprise you to know that our Morning Time is usually only between thirty and sixty minutes (depending on whether we are reading from a biography that day, or how long the passage we're reading).

Fellow homeschoolers, your “Morning Time” could be totally different. Cindy’s is different from mine and mine is different from what my friend Kathy calls her “Morning Stack.” You include the things that you deem important. But as Cindy says:

If you have something that you want your children to assimilate like poetry or scripture or music or Shakespeare, forget the grand schemes, forget what the Konos mom is doing down the street, start giving that thing one or two minutes of your time daily and watch the years roll by.

~ ~ ~

For further reading about Morning Times, visit:

http://morningtimemoms.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-is-morning-time.html
http://morningtimemoms.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-grains-of-sand.html
http://www.restorationplace.typepad.com/restoration_place/the-morning-stack/

Winter Pleasures

There is so much to love about winter. I love its slow(er) pace, its home centered-ness, and its absolute lack of sultry weather. Some folks may dream of living in a tropical paradise, but I am not one of them. Give me the gray winter days over the hot humid ones anytime!

Now I will make the best of any season, even summer ~wink~, but I revel in the coziness of autumn and winter.

~ This kind of snow is so beautiful.

~ We love to watch the birds in winter. The saturated colors of cardinals and bluejays against the grays and whites of winter are stunning. The chickadees and woodpeckers put on a show. Even the tufted titmouse and the drab little juncos are a pleasure to watch.

~ And this kind of snow is fun too! We learned to make these last year at a Snowflake-and-Star Cutting Workshop taught by my artist friend. I took one look at these and decided that they were far too complicated for me to learn and headed towards another station! But Kati gave it a try and convinced Bekah and me that we could do them. We made a few at the workshop, and then the girls turned into snowflake-making maniacs when we returned home. We hung them all over the house through the winter months...and made a new batch of them this year!

~ Then, of course, there's the tea tray which comes to take a priority spot on the kitchen counter, luring us with its comforting warmth. Because, after all...

...a game of Scrabble...


...or Masterpiece Classics...


...are infinitely better with a mug of hot tea.

Fig-guh

Kati (perusing a cookbook): This looks good..."Fig and Honey Cream Gallette."

Bekah: I hate figs!

Me: How do you know, Bekah?

Bekah: Because. Fig-guh (pronouncing the “g” quite distinctly). I never did like “g”s very much.

Unwittingly, Kati and I snicker.

Bekah: Well, Gavin starts with “g” and that’s okay. And gift, and glitter. But a “g” at the end of a word—guh (again pronouncing distinctly)—I just don’t like.

(Who knew -guh- had a flavor?)