Fifteen sneaks up on some of us

Fifteen years old. Is it possible that my second oldest child, my oldest son, has turned fifteen? The calendar confirms it, the deep voice and the request for longer pants seem to indicate it, but it hardly seems possible; I turned my back for a moment, and fifteen years have flown by.

Some things haven't changed. The intensity he has shown from the moment he was born is still there; his great smile, honest character, physical strength and love of the outdoors have been evident from his earliest days. But now there is music, photography, Boy Scouts and Wodehouse to expand the vistas, provide the soundtracks, fill the quote files and stack up memories of a childhood worth remembering.

What's a mother to do when she looks up and her son has become a young man? My heart rejoices; I couldn't ask for anything better. Afterall, the training and teaching portion of parenting is only a temp job, and I like it that way. I've also had to look in the mirror and commit to finishing this race strong. As tall as he is, as deep as his voice is, the time is not yet gone; there are many days ahead of living together. My heart's desire is that we would fill those days with learning and hard work and outdoor adventures and lots and lots of talks. Even arguments are a welcome part of the future. Kind and well-reasoned, certainly, but we are the sort that will be arguing together. That intensity he was born with? It comes from the maternal line in his genetic combo, so I look forward to exciting conversations that are seasoned with grace and mercy. And lots and lots of laughter.

A favorite song of my birthday son, and an excellent prayer for the next year:

Lord I give my life
Living sacrifice
To reach a world in need
To be your hands and feet
So may the words I sing
And the things I do
Make my Lifesong sing to You.

Lifesong by Casting Crowns

Happy birthday, dear son.

Homeland Security

The view of the bathtub last night:



"We've got the essential oils covered, ma'am. Your placebos...um, I mean...your natural remedies, are safe with us."

"Thanks, fellas."

Advice to all those plastic security guys out there who read my blog: if you use the word placebo with as much fear and trembling as these guys do, you'll be fine.

Neighborhood update -- by request

I've received emails asking about the status of my neighborhood, both boundary lines and burned down houses, so here is the update (limited as it is):

Boundary lines continue in their state of ambiguity. Upon further review, as the saying goes, Neighbor B seems to be backing down on his obstinate stance of owning the whole hill. With the prospect of the survey upon him, he seems to be wishing he had just let Neighbor A dig. This helps us relax immensely. Not that we have been bent on worry; this has been Neighbor B's stance since we moved here in 1997. It's just his diminished bravado has been reassuring, and we are back to thinking we probably own our front yard. We are eagerly awaiting the results, but I guess the surveyor is a busy man and will get here "as soon as possible." No rush, as rumor has it that "ASAP" is synonymous with "slow boat to China" in our county.

(*see original post on the neighborhood battles here.)

As for the burning house: believe it not, we have not been able to find it. The day after the fire I drove around searching. There are so many houses on that hill, an entire sub-division nestled into bunches of roads. In lieu of more driving around and searching, we have watched the progress of tearing down and cleaning up, and prayed from our little deck across the way.

(*see original post on the burning house here.)

The one thing that we have progressed on is the plot for our murder mystery, The Property Line. Currently undecided: do we have my mother cast as the elderly grandma-now-detective who discovers the dead body in the ditch? Or, as one friend has suggested, should she be the not-so-innocent little old lady who found the time and energy to kill and shove the unappreciated neighbor into the ditch? Mom would prefer to be Miss Marple, thank you very much, but I think the dangerous grandma has an exotic ring to it. Plot updates will be posted as available.

The quotable Wes Callihan

"This is the heart of a good education: a small but well-chosen library, a place to sit and study, some friends to do it with, and the time and tranquility to do it in. "

"Read the best books and talk about them with like-minded friends. That's been the essence of real education since antiquity, and nothing about our modern world changes that except perhaps the pandemic idiocy that gives this idea even greater urgency and even less chance than ever of being taken seriously."

Read the rest at Wes Callihan's blog.

The beginning of the year is as good a time as any to remember what we are doing in home educating our children. It doesn't have to be as complicated as we make it, and we do get to keep learning for the rest of our numbered days on earth. Having a group of interesting children to learn with and around is a great gift. Thanks for the reminder, Wes.

Wes is the esteemed online tutor from Schola Classical Tutorials. We have two students studying the Great Books in his classes, and one taking Latin from him. His ability to hold forth on the topic of the day pulls our students into things they never would have dreamed of studying, and he adds to it his wit, his love of God and a seemingly unending supply of corny jokes. Mr. C. is greatly appreciated at our house.

FYI: His daughter is a fine tutor in her own right, and she is boldly teaching two of our sons Latin this year. You can see her course offerings here. Our boys would say she is a little misguided in her choice of baseball affiliation, but they've forgiven her. What she lacks in her team choice, she makes up for in enthusiasm for The Game. For some students, this scores buckets of "cool points."

Soundtrack for Tuesday

Brandenburg Concertos, Johann Sebastian Bach
with Helmuth Rilling and the Oregon Bach Festival Chamber Orchestra

The perfect music for a too warm, hormonal, sinus congested Tuesday afternoon. Cheery, but soothing. And filled with memories of an evening concert lifetimes ago when I was young and foolish. I was dragged along by one younger and wiser, and the world of classical music opened to me that night. I have been grateful ever since.

Sidebar update

I have been a template update slug of late, and there are a few blogs that need to be in my sidebar:

Long overdue:

A Learning Life
My dear "moved away" friend (also famous for being the mother of The Autumn Rain and five other adopted nieces and nephews.) Filled with reflections on homeschooling, house building and beautiful photographs.

A Sparrow's Home
A blog of Prince Edward Island, scripture, family, beautiful photos and terrific book recommendations. Not an "in real life" friend (yet), but one with whom I enjoying corresponding.

And two new finds:

Vox Vendsel
I found this blog through the Autumn Reading Challenge at Seasonal Soundings. It's a husband and wife effort, and posts include C.S. Lewis Sunday quotes, a list of books for the challenge that I would love to read, poetry, and recipes. Not to mention the gorgeous photograph in their blog banner. Stunning.

Adventures in Mercy
Found through Choosing Home, Molly's spot is filled with questions, definitions, and ponderings on the Christian life. Not for groupies looking for someone to follow blindly (and can we all agree that no one should be followed blindly?), but Molly is thoughtfully in process in her posts. Adventures in Mercy is also a great place for discussion in the comment section (unlike some blogs *smile*)

Making it to the top

Yes, they finally made it to the top of Half Dome!
Elevation: 8,842 feet
Distance: 16.2 miles

Total elevation gained: 4,807 feet

"With special thanks to our older sister for the cinnamon rolls, to Mountain Dew for the extra boost when the going got rough, and to our dad who made it all possible."

First day of autumn

How do you celebrate the first day of autumn?

The Circle of Quiet family is dividing and conquering this weekend.

Some will be here:


Half Dome

This will be the third time they attempt to get to the top. They have been thwarted by summer crowds and thunder storms, both of which kept them from climbing the last stretch that requires cables. With a late season date, and a forecast for clear skies, the hopes are that the third time will be the charm. We're rooting for them and hoping for a mountain top phone call announcing their achievement.

One of us has a more flatland, consumer destination in mind. It's IKEA Sacramento for me this morning. I'll be meeting friends for shopping and 99 cent breakfast and plenty of good conversation. I plan to do as much Christmas shopping as possible, for as little money as possible.

The rest will be home with their list of books to read. There's been a unpleasant sniffle*cough thing going through the family, so I would guess some sleeping in and reading in bed might be on the to-do list at some point before I return. Just tonight, I snuggled in bed and read picture books with my youngest. He's been a part of the older reading time in the evenings, and we haven't had the time alone as much. We both acknowledged that it is NOT acceptable, and I was delighted to read The Salamader Room and Paul Revere's Ride as he drifted off. I found it to be the highlight of a beautiful day.

When I return, we'll have Swedish meatballs (surprise, surprise) and listen to George Winston's Autumn; it declares best to my soul, "It's Autumn and Life is GOOD!"

The last day of summer

I stood outside tonight, saying farewell to summer. The oak leaves are still in attendance on the branches, but the stiff breeze that was blowing caused them to swish and swirl and loosen their grip. The edges of the leaves have browned, and they will soon float down, bringing work for every able-bodied raker in the family. The acorns have begun their ping, ping on the roof of the house and van, and they will soon collect in groups under the swingset and up and down the gravel driveway. The sound as they hit the roof is like a soothing melody. I welcome autumn with great enthusiasm.

For me, the warm September days are a guest who has overstayed its welcome. The stifling summer heat covers me like an unwanted blanket; it saps much of my energy and takes with it any effortless joy. I choose joy in the summer, for it has its blessings, but the heat is a marathon for me.

Although the last official day of summer does not mean it's cold, it does mean that the suffocation of summer heat will soon be forgotten. It is fresh in the morning, and our first rainy day has already been to call. I will shiver again, happily. It signals sweaters, hot coffee in the afternoon, storm watching out the window, rainy walks, and flannel sheets. For one who experiences their dabbling in weather-related discouragement in the summer, the darker skies and colder weather signal hope and joy.

Sometimes you get a peek...

into the mind of your children.

My recent peek was the list that appeared on the side of the frig. It says at the top: Books to be read by (big sister ) to (little sister and littlest brother) before (big sister) goes to college. Granted, the list is long, and the departure date is at least two years away, but it sure makes this mama sit up and think about the future. And someone else is obviously thinking about that, too.

Gone? Yes, and the time will be right. But...gulp...I am glad it is not tomorrow.

Small graces...

These are the small graces
Little moments when the miracles come
These are the small graces
Small graces leading me to the larger ones.

Small graces surely have a meaning...
They are a reminder to the heart
There is more to life than meets the eye.

Small Graces by Bob Bennett

Some of this week's small graces:

An "anonymous" gift certificate to Amazon.com for my birthday

The gift of Chinese food from my mom when I was sick

A letter from a friend with poems and quotes

Raindrops

Oh, can the first raindrops of the season ever be called a small grace? It smells as extravagantly terrific as folks always say, and we are throwing the windows wide open, trying to capture the heavenly fragrance. Some members of the family have been so eager for rain that they ran around making the living room spotless, pulled out a blanket and a James Herriot book and a cup of tea. Perfection. I think she has been waiting a long time.

Dear "Anonymous",

Leave it to PSmith by P.G. Wodehouse

Decision made, two-day shipping selected, and I am left to wait. But knowing the feel of a Collector's Wodehouse in my hand, just the right size to hold easily in a comfy position, I will wait somewhat patiently. And, you were right: being able to choose a book for myself was a delicious treat. Thank you for your generosity.

Middle East Geography

Want to test your knowledge of the geography of the Middle East? Here is a great resource.

HT: Wittingshire

Math motivation

In a recent email exchange with a blogger who prefers to remain anonymous (out of consideration for the following library employee), we were discussing math strengths (her family) and weaknesses (my family). She relayed this anecdote:

I was at the library a few weeks ago, and I had a $ 4.05 fine. I handed the librarian a five dollar bill, and she said, "Oh, I better get the calculator out for this one." I told her I should get 95 cents. She said, "Are you sure? I always get confused as to whether it should be $1.05 or 95 cents." I had a similar instance where she owed me 75 cents in change and had to use the calculator, so it's not that she was just having an off day. I can't fathom how she manages the Dewey decimal system. Anyway, no matter what happens, your children can surely have a bright future in the (insert anonymous blogger's state here) library system.

Initial response: laughter. Later response: I can honestly say I am now motivated to become a diligent, creative, rabid Math Teacher of the Year.

King Lear

When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools.
King Lear, 4. 6

On the treadmill:


King Lear (Arkangel Shakespeare audiobook)

On the screen:


King Lear starring Ian Holm

Etc:


King Lear edited by Stephen Orgel


Shakespeare Stories by Leon Garfield

Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare by E. Nesbit

Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb (audio CD and hardback versions.)

September 11th

I am remembering those whose lives were lost, and I am praying for those who were left behind.

Thanks to Miz Booshay for reminding me of the Source of my hope:

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death; I will fear no evil: for thou
art with me; thy rod and thy staff they
comfort me.

L.M. Montgomery (1874 - 1942)

IN THE DAYS OF THE GOLDEN ROD

Across the meadow in brooding shadow
I walk to drink of the autumn's wine–
The charm of story, the artist's glory,
To-day on these silvering hills is mine;
On height, in hollow, where'er I follow,
By mellow hillside and searing sod,
Its plumes uplifting, in light winds drifting,
I see the glimmer of golden-rod.

In this latest comer the vanished summer
Has left its sunshine the world to cheer,
And bids us remember in late September
What beauty mates with the passing year.
The days that are fleetest are still the sweetest,
And life is near to the heart of God,
And the peace of heaven to earth is given
In this wonderful time of the golden-rod.

With thanks to Island Sparrow.

Aha! I get it.

Thanks to Mama Hen from At A Hen's Pace, I finally understand cousins:

Your mother's cousin would be your first cousin once removed. Someone explained to me that it's like a many-layered cake. The top layer are the first cousins. Their children are in the second layer, and THEIR children are in the third. Everyone in the second layer are second cousins to each other, everyone in the third layer are third cousins. If you cross a layer though, it's once removed--two layers, twice removed. So you are the first cousin once removed of your mother's first cousin; your children are her first cousins, twice removed. If she has children, they are your second cousins; they are your children's second cousins, once removed.

Fine Art Friday

The Broken Pitcher
by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905), French

This print has been in my home since 1981. I love the dark eyes of the girl and the light on the pitcher. Too many moves and sunlit rooms have faded my print to muted burgundy and teal, and I miss the rich colors in the shawl and surrounding foliage.

The brilliant idea that is Fine Art Friday comes courtesy of Magistramater, an enjoyable and interesting site to visit regularly.

Happy birthday to me!

I had a beautiful birthday yesterday. Turning forty-seven, I feel happy to be a year older and (hopefully) wiser. It's been such a good year, filled with my family and friends, tons of reading and talking and laughing and listening, and the peace of Christ in my heart. Thanks be to God!

Celebrating has gone on in phases, not just blowing out candles on the cake. My summer camera purchase was my birthday & Christmas present. I LOVE presents, but I felt no regret in having used up my gift quotient in the summer; I am very happy with my camera.

Over the weekend, we did travel to Palo Alto for dinner and visiting with my cousin. An aside: if she is my mother's cousin, is she my cousin-once-removed, or is she my second cousin? Whatever the proper name, it doesn't conjure up the right depth of closeness. She is a dear part of our family! With just my husband and me as her guests, we got to talk, talk, talk and we all agreed we should do it more often.

I also got my door painted RED. I've had the paint for at least a year, but I was daunted by the fact that it looked magenta when I opened the can. Dried on the door, though, it changed into my favorite shade of red. The bold and cheery color makes me happy each time I walk in the house.

Wednesday night the celebration began to pick up again with a dinner out with girlfriends. Thursday morning I was greeted with a banner of kind words and pictures, delicious cinnamon rolls and a latte. Thursday is a busy day of piano, errands and an online class, but we had a school-lite afternoon that allowed me to nap and read. What a luxury. Chinese take-out and red roses were a beautiful addition to the household when my husband got home, and a cake with carmel frosting was the perfect finishing touch. Kind phone calls, emails, cards, presents from friends and children...I went to bed feeling very, very loved. One other note: at some point recently we have started a little dinner game on birthdays. "Tell what you like about the birthday person" is a terrific way to spend a meal, and if everyone else ends up feeling as loved as I did, perhaps we should do it more often than seven times a year!

So, happy birthday to me!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

The Arrow and the Song

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

Happy Birthday to my dear friend, A Learning Life. Missing you, my friend, and wishing you joy.

The Autumn Reading Challenge

I wrote of the upcoming Autumn Reading Challenge last week (here).

I have made my first pass through the stacks and these are my choices:


The Small Rain
by Madeleine L’Engle

Gilead
by Marilynne Robinson


The Letters of John and Abigail Adams

Jane Austen by Elizabeth Jenkins

Christian Reflections by C.S. Lewis

Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation by Parker Palmer


Three Short Novels by Wendell Berry

Standing by Words by Wendell Berry

King Lear by Shakespeare

The Whimsical Christian by Dorothy Sayers

Plus: three new mysteries (would love them to be by Dorothy Sayers, P.D. James and Anne Perry. The question is: will the library come through and have what I need? Oh, and have they written anything I have not read? James, probably not. Perry, definitely. Sayers? Probably. If not, Charles Todd is a happy replacement, and perhaps Mom-Next-Door can loan me a book or two. This is where the “don’t buy a new book for a couple of months" is being tested, although I don’t usually buy light mystery reading.)

Add to that my continued reading through Q's On the Art of Writing and Homer's Iliad, plus school starting up in earnest, and I may be biting off more than I can chew. But I, for one, would rather choke on too big a bite than starve for lack of sustenance.

Join us by posting a link to your blog at Seasonal Soundings. Happy Reading!

The house across the valley

As I was making dinner last night, a fire chief drove into the driveway with his lights flashing. I ran out to ask if I could help, and he shouted, "How do I get there?", pointing behind me. I turned and could not believe my eyes. The one house we can see from our property was on fire. With all the little country roads winding in and out, I could only give some suggestions and then watch him zoom off to try to help. Within forty-five minutes, the house was destroyed. The firefighters focused on keeping the damage contained to one house; thanks to next-to-no breeze, this goal was achieved.

We had two different mindsets going simultaneously. The first was horror and deep sympathy for the people who had lost everything. It seemed obvious that they were not home. There was no sign of people around; they must not have called in the fire or those fighting it would have had directions to the blaze. Imagine coming home after work to find nothing but what used to be your home?

At the same time, we were watching every minute to see if the fire would travel across the valley to anyone else. We knew where all the children were, and we had my mom join us, too. The dog was put in her crate, and we hoped to be able to grab the cats if we needed to. Everything else was a question mark as we watched. What's important at that point? Those you love and the people who live around you.

I drove off last night and saw the huge cloud of smoke from a much larger brush fire that was burning dozens of acres to the southwest. When you live where the temperatures are hot and the grass is brown, fire is what you dread. As one who endures summer as cheerfully as she possibly can, I welcome any sign of autumn that cares to show up about right now. Anything cool, and particularly moist, would help the fire danger lessen and allow certain people to sleep the night through without smelling smoke and leaping out of bed. I look forward to it.