The Autodidact

I have a degree in English Literature, and I never really felt I used it until I started homeschooling. I'm a sucker for good books, and my house is full of them. I am a stickler for making my kids read good literature too, but in a moment of weakness I allowed a copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid  into my house. For those of you who know me well, you are now wondering if I have lost my mind. (Don't worry, I won't let it happen again). "It's summer," I told myself, "give the kids a break and let them read whatever they pick out." I even read some of it myself, and I have to admit I did laugh out loud a few times. But when I asked the 10 year old if he was through reading it and if he liked it, I was in for a refreshing answer. He said he didn't like it and when I asked why, he rattled off several reasons: the main character lies, wants to cheat on his tests, tries to impress all the girls in school and make them like him (girls are really gross right n

I'm walking toward the hospital, a tall, imposing, yet beautiful building, and I'm thinking about all the money it took to build it. I wonder what the purpose is for all the fountains and reflecting pools outside, and all the artwork inside. It all seems pretentious, bragging; is it all necessary? The halls seem endless, and I can't help but think how much this place resembles an airport. A huge drop-off area outside, high ceilings and long, wide halls inside. A people mover could easily fit, and would actually be helpful. There are janitors waxing and polishing the floors and cleaning bathrooms, concierges in their red jackets are everywhere, waiting to help. A grand piano sits up on something like a stage, waiting for someone to play it. I see a friend, a nurse, who is just getting off her shift, and we chat for a few minutes. They buzz us in to the ICU and we walk through a tangle of beeping machines and people and rooms. And he's there in his bed, still the same; st

Summer is in full swing, and the tomatoes are ripening. There is nothing quite like the smell of a tomato plant. My husband is the gardener, and this time of year he starts to get a little protective about his garden, possibly counting the number of beefsteak tomatoes on each plant. You see, I spent a good deal of my young life in the south, where I was introduced to green fried tomatoes. Every summer it's the same: I watch the tomato plants for a lovely, large green tomato, and my husband knows I am going to take one and fry it up for lunch. But my Italian husband always allows me to take a few, even though he doesn't quite understand my love for green tomatoes. I tell him they rank pretty close to chocolate, but he doesn't quite understand that one either. So here is a quick and easy recipe: Before you slice your tomato, make sure to take one last inhale of its lovely smell. Melt about half a stick of butter on medium high heat and dredge the tomato slices in

I took the crib down the other day, as I have done over the past several years. And every time I do there are one or two little children around to "help" and I tell them about all the babies who used that crib. You see, not only have all 7 of my babies slept in the crib, but so did their daddy and all his brothers and his sister. And each time I tell this story, their eyes get wide and they remark how incredibly old  the crib must be! Every time I have taken down that crib, I am sad, but always hopeful for another baby to put in it. But, let's face it, I am getting on in years, at least pretty old to be having babies, anyway. So this time was a little different. I thought about it for a couple of weeks or more, toying with the idea. I could use more space in the little kids' room, and the baby is old enough to sleep in a real bed, I reasoned. I know that the crib is really just wood and metal, but it is so dear to me. So I held off, enjoying putting my little one down

My little baby is 2 years old today! I am so privileged and blessed to have a little toddler at my advanced age. We had some neighbors over for wine and cake last night, though the birthday girl had lemonade! You may have noticed that in the first 3 pictures she's in a yellow dress, and later she's in a pink and green dress. The latter was a gift, and she promptly took off her yellow dress and asked for help getting on the new one. In front of all her guests. She's such a fun kid. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELEANOR

Last Sunday we officially granted a diploma to our first graduate. We opened the house to friends, family and neighbors, and over a hundred people came. I gave a speech and gave Debbie her diploma, and Jay gave her a blessing. For those of you who weren't there, I will share some pictures and the text of my speech. Dear Debbie,      So here we are at the end of things. We’ve finished 12 years together as student and  teacher, as well as mother and daughter. I’m no longer picking out your curriculum and  grading your papers. No more assignments from me.  Educationally speaking you are no  longer under my authority or tutelage. But this is also the beginning of things for you.  New classrooms and teachers, new experiences and people to meet and new things to  learn.      Over 18 years ago, we decided that we were going to home educate you. There was not  much discussion about it, we just decided and that was that. Although formally, you have  been

The storm has come, and my umbrella is holding up, though it is a bit leaky. I'm tired and everything moves in slow motion. Why is it like this when we grieve? Is it to make us slow down and take things easy? Is it so we can look all around us and notice more? It was raining all day the day we went to the funeral home and the cemetery, making plans, trying to honor his wishes as best we can. Rain and mist, a heaviness of air and heart. But I think God wants us to slow down and listen to Him, to notice his creation and let Him heal us. He wants our hearts to be heavy for a time so that He can lift them up, and see us rejoice. I see him in the hospital bed, peaceful, but dying. Tied to a bed through tubes and machines and monitors.  And then, I see him running, something he liked to do. Running, free of all restraint, eyes and mind clear, running for the pure joy of it. No longer sick, his face is like it was when he was young. And I think God wants us to remember the good as well a