Reflections for Ragamuffins

"Early on in Sunday school or catechism class, we learned the Golden Rule: "Always treat others as you would like them to treat you." Yet our melancholy marriages, dysfunctional families, splintered churches, and loveless neighborhoods indicate that we have not learned well.

'Learning by heart' is another matter entirely. The rhythm of relentless tenderness in the Rabbi's heart makes loving terribly personal, terribly immediate, and terribly urgent."

Reflections for Ragamuffins: Daily Devotions from the Writings of Brennan Manning

HT: The Autumn Rain

My dear friend at The Autumn Rain has a few articles posted that caught my attention:


Not Harvard Bound:
Some of America’s Most Promising Youth Are Seeking an Even Higher Education

May 2006 Touchstone Magazine.

"Those who wish to glimpse what the future holds or even to know present culture in its purest form very often look to the mental and moral health of the nation’s youth. And what they find is generally discouraging. The over-sexed, underdressed teenagers who seem to alternate between hanging out at the mall and spilling out the intimate details of their lives on myspace.com do not seem to be preparing themselves for positions of moral and political responsibility. Even at the other end of the spectrum, at the nation’s leading universities, young people seem to lack strong character."

"Flat-souled youth. Organization kids. Charlotte Simmons. As accurate as these portraits of America’s contemporary youth culture may be, I have become increasingly convinced that they are local accounts, based on observations of students at the University of Chicago or Princeton or Stanford or some other elite institution, that tell only one story—and perhaps not the story that gives the greatest insight into the future, or of one possible future, of America. There may, in fact, be another story with a far happier ending."

This article will have to join our continuing banter about college.

And, for a discussion of manners:

The American Conservative
April 10, 2006 Issue
Copyright © 2006
Minding Our Manners: Egalitarianism’s assault on class aims to make us all equally rude.
By Theodore Dalrymple

This excess of informality is very undignified and unattractive and results in a society constantly on edge, even in the smallest of interactions. I think it explains in part the worldwide success of a series of books by my friend Alexander McCall Smith about a lady private detective in Botswana called Mma Ramotswe. For the African society that McCall Smith portrays so eloquently in these books is one in which a certain formality and ceremoniousness of manners still exists, which come as a great and instant relief to people who live in societies that are altogether without them. Not only do the ceremoniousness and formality help to smooth the rough edges of social interaction, but they allow some grading of such interaction, according to degrees of desired or achieved intimacy. Formality, moreover, is the precondition of subtlety and even of irony; without formality, life becomes coarse-grained and crude. The distinction between friendliness and friendship becomes blurred so that it is no longer even perceived.

Discussions of manners need to occur regularly around here as well. In a society where one cannot learn manners by simply watching those around you, it is good to talk about the details. "But, why?" can lead to some very interesting and lively conversation.

Music to my ears

"Let's blow this popsicle stand," he declared with reckless abandon, as the piles of papers landed with a thud on the carpet.

With aching brain and neck muscles, the typing wife didn't register the words at first.

"Pardon me?" she mumbled distractedly.

"Let's go out to dinner. Right now. Come on."

Her typing fingers paused, and her brain finally registered those rare words so sweet.

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

A quick change into date clothes, a wave good-bye to the startled but happy children having a water fight in the front yard, and they were gone. Like footloose and fancy free youngsters, only better. Twenty years down the road of life better.

A hand-written letter

Letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company. ~Lord Byron





Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls.
For, thus friends absent speak. - John Donne




And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
~W.H. Auden

Isn't it a treat to recieve a hand-written letter in this day of cyber-communication? My daughter and her friends have taught me much about faithful correspondence. Tea bags, flower seeds, and words of affection have been mailed back and forth from Oregon and Canada and beyond, thanks to their devotion to letter writing. Through the years, I have solidified dear friendships by way of letters, but the demands of life have allowed me to push letter writing to the back burner. That's not acceptable to me any longer. It's time for some new stationery and a few moments of reflection in writing to friends and family far away.

John James Audubon (1785-1851)

Happy birthday, Mr. Audubon.
(HT: Semicolon)

Some excellent resources for children to learn more about Audubon:


The Boy Who Drew Birds : A Story of John James Audubon
by Jacqueline Davies

Capturing nature: The writings and art of John James Audubon


Into the woods : John James Audubon lives his dream
by Robert Burleigh

Grab your binoculars and a sketch pad and spend a few quiet minutes enjoying the birds in your area.

Questions they ask...

if you are going to spend the night in a sleep lab:

Check the following behaviors occurring during your sleep that either you or someone else has noted in the past year:
(just a small sampling)

*Snoring
*Talking in your sleep
*Seeing objects while falling asleep
*Large body jerks
*Falling out of bed
*Violent movements
*Shouting, screaming or swearing
*Feeling paralyzed upon falling asleep or waking

Who would have thought that falling asleep or waking could be so eventful?

And a scary question to ask when you consider your neighbors on the highways and biways:

How likely are you to doze off in a car, while stopped for a few minutes in traffic? Please say "Never done" ... please.

We take sleeping very seriously around here, which is why my husband is currently up at the lab and hooked to all sorts of machines that are ready to report on every moment and sound he makes (inside and out) between now and five o'clock tomorrow morning. But, the questions had us falling around the room with tears-rolling-down-our-cheeks laughter. Maybe we're punchy because of sleep deprivation...or maybe it is just a bit funny to realize all the things your "bed partner" could be doing in the middle of the night. The options are endless.

I'll have loads of questions to ask when he gets home. How could you possibly sleep well with things stuck on your head, chest, fingers, legs? And, knowing that a camera was watching every move you make? Sounds like a creepy movie to me, but we'll get the up close and personal report tomorrow morning when he gets home.

Sleep well, Bed Partner.

ROFTers

Our ROFTers (Readers of First Things) group is having one of its quasi-monthly gatherings this week-end. As the hosts, it is our job to choose an article and provide the wine; any sugar will be provided by the guests (here's hoping they read this...we love chocolate and caramel, especially together. Just a little FYI.)

The article for this gathering is: Evangelicals and Others by Timothy George:

"The evangelical tradition holds at its best the belief that faithful Christian witness involves caring deeply about one’s neighbor—and hence about truth, justice, and love extending beyond the bounds of the meeting house. So, too, the evangelical tradition holds a recognition of God’s sovereignty and providential ordering in the affairs of men and nations, which is an antidote to both despair and utopianism.

Will evangelicalism survive its success? This question is seriously debated by serious scholars and the answer has proved elusive. Some see evangelicalism as a fiction, a grand public-relations ploy held together by powerful personalities for several decades but that has now run out of steam. Others claim this is the 'Evangelical Moment.' Still others call for revisioning, repositioning, and recentering evangelicalism.

But 'center' is the wrong image, I think. Especially when center is defined as the middle point on a spectrum, denoting a middle ground between radicals and liberals on the left and reactionaries and conservatives on the right. I want to suggest another image: core, from the Latin word for heart. 'Evangelical ecumenism' may be an oxymoron, and its theme song might be the country music classic by George Strait, 'Let’s Fall to Pieces Together.' But I suggest that ecumenism is a central portion—a core concern—of the evangelical faith and the evangelical church."

It promises to be a great evening, and a great week of reading and thinking.

Getting real

Randi has issued the Get Real Monday Challenge again, this time asking what we do to relax and re-energize. Well, let me count the ways. I love to read, I love to take a power nap, I love to be outside with my children. Working in the garden or cleaning house can even be relaxing, if it's not a rush job. If, however, what I need is to be alone for a bit, I usually find a place at home rather than going out. Going out gets expensive, and that does not relax me.

The bath is always a good choice, here shown with candles (especially helpful if your bathroom is not spotless.) This was my choice for Saturday night, and I listened to a CD from the CiRCE institute. No book to drop in the water, no need to keep my hands dry. Very relaxing bath, very re-energizing CD.



My other favorite spot is the deck on a warmish evening. I am usually joined by a cat or a dog, but they don't ask much; a pat every now and then, and their companionship is worth it. I often hear the work or play of a child or two or three outside, or the sounds of the piano floating out the window. This corner of my deck is the theater for sunset viewing, and it was the perfect place for reading In This House of Brede.

The garden

It's almost time to get out to the garden plot again. This picture is taken from our upper deck, across the hillside to our fenced-in garden area. We've taken a few years off from vegetable gardening, but we are determined to get back to it this year. We have needed to wait for the rains to stop, and now we need to wait for a day to prepare the soil. Next Saturday is the anticipated day, and we are e.x.c.i.t.e.d. The chicken coop looks so forlorn without any residents; if I listen to my children's pleas, it may have new tenants this season.

Some of our favorite gardening books are:

Sunset's Western Garden Book by Kathleen Norris Brenzel (Editor)
I am a big fan of Sunset publications, and this is a very comprehensive manual.


Sunflower Houses by Sharon Lovejoy
A beautifully illustrated book with creative gardening ideas for children. Lovejoy has several books on gardening with children. I hope we can plant a sunflower house this year, just outside the gate to the vegetable garden.


The Garden Primer by Barbara Damrosch
Another encyclopedia-type gardening book. Very detailed, written in conversational style.

Organic Gardening for the 21st Century : A Complete Guide to Growing Vegetables, Fruits, Herbs and Flowers by John Fedor


Four-Season Harvest: Organic Vegetables from Your Home Garden All Year Long by Eliot Coleman
Organic gardening is something we have a lot to learn about. These are two new books to add to our library. We are hoping to extend our growing season this year, perhaps using the vacant chicken coop as a greenhouse.


A favorite resource
I think it is best to buy seeds and plants locally, but when I use a catalog for ordering or inspiration, I love this one: Cook's Garden Catalog

Off to plan the garden design, make lists of plants and seeds to buy, and design raised beds to make next week-end. Gardening is hard work, but I cannot wait to get my fingers dirty again.


A favorite Jefferson quote

A gift from Monticello

G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

The Great Minimum

It is something to have wept as we have wept,
It is something to have done as we have done,
It is something to have watched when all men slept,
And seen the stars which never see the sun.

It is something to have smelt the mystic rose,
Although it break and leave the thorny rods,
It is something to have hungered once as those
Must hunger who have ate the bread of gods.

To have seen you and your unforgotten face,
Brave as a blast of trumpets for the fray,
Pure as white lilies in a watery space,
It were something, though you went from me today.

To have known the things that from the weak are furled,
Perilous ancient passions, strange and high;
It is something to be wiser then the world,
It is something to be older then the sky.

In a time of sceptic moths and cynic rusts,
And fattened lives that of their sweetness tire
In a world of flying loves and fading lusts,
It is something to be sure of a desire.

Lo, blessed are our ears for they have heard;
Yea, blessed are our eyes for they have seen:
Let the thunder break on man and beast and bird
And the lightning. It is something to have been.

Here and gone again...

My husband returned last Friday night from his annual "field trip" to Washington, D.C. He is a school teacher, so his job does not require regular travel. He is a valiant Boy Scout dad, so he does go on scouting events with our sons. Even so, we are used to having him around. Well, after a work-filled seven days home, he is off again with our scouts, and I am missing him. There were years when he was in D.C. when I was dying to have him home. Everyone was little, everyone needed help, and I was worn out by the time he returned. That has all changed now that everyone is older; I am not exhausted by the time he returns, but there's sure a significant something missing when he is gone. I like having my husband to talk with, to laugh with, and even to spar with. He understands me, and he doesn't require lengthy explanations to accomplish that. Having been married for almost twenty years, we have a lot of talking, laughing and sparring water under the bridge. It's a season of reaping the harvest of those years.

Both sets of our parents divorced when we were young children; when we married we wanted to provide for our future children the stability and marital love that we had missed when we were growing up. I'll be honest: it hasn't been easy. In particular, year five was the crash-and-burn year of our marriage, and years six through ten required massive rebuilding. We had no role models, we had bad habits, and we were used to giving in to our selfishness. Each faithful year since has shaped and designed our marriage more, though. I feel like God has molded us, like hunks of clay, squeezing us together and crafting something beautiful. I think of a potter's wheel, spinning and pushing and smoothing a lump into a work of art. By the grace of God, I am beginning to see the creative shape and form that He has fashioned us into.

So, what does that have to do with the box in my pictures? Well, it's a special tin box. It's nothing valuable, but I love it. I discovered it one day in an antique store across from where my mother regularly had some lab work done. I couldn't buy it that day, but my mother did and saved it for a Christmas present for me. When I opened it, I couldn't believe she had gone back to buy it for me. For many months I didn't do anything with it, so it became a goofy little decoration on my bedside bookshelf. Then, we began to discuss what we wanted to do for our twentieth anniversary in June. We found a hotel on the spectacular Oregon coast, booked a romantic room for two nights, and started to get excited. I decided then to start collecting all the spare change I can find, every soggy dollar I find in the washing machine, every forgotten bill on the bottom of my old purses. Daily I have looked on the surfaces where spare change lands, and I have scooped it up and put it in my tin box. Each day I find a little bit, and I am reminded that marriage is a collection of small choices on ordinary days. Will I serve and care, or will I think only of myself? Those decisions to serve add up, just like my change has already added up to over forty-five dollars. Kindness, consideration, manners, honesty, gentleness all count. For one it might be a meal cooked, for another the gift of an hour of quiet to rest. Sometimes we are called to give a lot, almost more than we can bear to give; other times we are the recipient of incredible generosity. The temptation to choose selfishness is always there, but it sure has lost its youthful charm.

I look forward to the scouting men of the family returning late tomorrow night, but especially the one with the graying beard and the brilliant blue eyes. There are the wrinkles that come from smiling and worrying and thinking a lot, and I love each and every crease. That is the man I am eagerly waiting to see tomorrow night, and I pray for another twenty years of nights with him.

The anniversary stash

The Carnival of Beauty

The Carnival of Beauty is on at The Autumn Rain. The topic? The beauty of rainy days. Enjoy.

To answer your question...

The flower photo I posted yesterday is an anemone.

Anemone, or windflower, is any of the perennial flowering herbaceous plants belonging to the genus Anemone in the buttercup family. They produce cup-shaped yellowish, white, purple, violet, or red flowers that make attractive additions to perennial flower gardens.

I couldn't resist....

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic. At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung (Only anxious when thinking about college admissions for my children. Snippy? Unfortunately.) You drink coffee: anytime you're not sleeping (so true) Your caffeine addiction level: high (I only wish -- decaf. for me 80% of the time)

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

I have not been tempted by many of the "What _________ are you?" tests, but I couldn't help myself this time. I am just relieved I am not a luke-warm cup of Columbian.

Traditional Hymns

A gift from Patty in WA. The perfect size, made with care, filled with songs known and new. It includes both lyrics and music.

Categories:

Morning
Evening
Harvest
Advent
Christmas
Epiphany
Lent
Passiontide
Easter
Ascensiontide
General
Whitsuntide
Trinity Sunday
The Church in Heaven
The Church on Earth
For Those at Sea
Children
Thanksgiving
Processional

Highly recommended as a beautiful gift (for yourself or someone else.)

Thanks, dear friend.

The Lord of laughter

“Christ is risen, alleluia. He is the Lord of the dance, the dance of the living. He is the Lord of laughter; our laughter is the echo of his risen life within us. He is the risen Lord of glory, who in sovereign authority can say: ‘Blessed are you who laugh now, because you can bring the joy of Easter to others. But blessed are you only if you can laugh at yourselves, if you don’t take yourselves too seriously, if human living doesn’t revolve around you and your needs…Only if your laughter means that you have let go in reckless confidence all that shackles you to yesterday, imprisons you in your small self today, and frightens you with the uncertainty of tomorrow. Blessed are you who laugh, because you are free.’”

Reflections for Ragamuffins by Brennan Manning

Now appearing in the front yard

Healing laughter

Amanda at Wittingshire has a great post on humor, with a follow-up post at The Common Room.

From Amanda:

I went from teaching college English to walking a messy, crying, colicky baby. I was in culture shock, and my mother and sister expected e-mail updates every day; I had no intention of becoming the downer in the family, so I learned to tell it funny.

First I learned that you can't tell it funny unless you really think it's funny--and that usually means being able to laugh at yourself. Then I learned that if you practice telling things funny long enough, they begin to be funny not just in retrospect, but as they're happening.

And that's worth something. Second only to faith in God, a sense of humor gets you through the day.

From The Common Room:

I am not going to tell you that through all the many trials and stresses of that horrible month we merely laughed laughed, joked, and amazed all who saw us by our poise and calm. We did do most of those things, but we did not do only those things. We cried, we despaired, we lamented, we made dumb, dumb, dumb mistakes, and we got cranky.

But we also laughed, even in the midst of banging our heads against the wall. We kept our faith.

Click the links above to read the full posts.

Blessed is he who can laugh at himself, for he shall never cease to be amused.

Ten of Life's Simple Pleasures

1. The coffee grinder signaling that my husband is making my morning coffee.

2. The magical appearance of bulbs in our garden; we are always surprised that they grew again.

3. The sound of my husband's tires on the gravel driveway at the end of the day.

4. Yo-Yo Ma's cello.

5. Daily Sudoku.

6. The screech of the hawks across the valley.

7. Milk duds.

8. My mom's laughter.

9. The quiet that descends on the house when everyone is asleep.

10. Each face around my living room during evening story time.


Thanks for the question, Donna. Remembering all the simple pleasures (far more than ten, of course) is one of my favorite pastimes.

Carnival of Homeschooling, Week 16

The carnival is up and running here: Practical Solutions for Homeschool Struggles

Rest or panic?

I spoke confidently at our homeschool group last Thursday night, declaring that I am not a worrier. I sleep well, I don't stress about what I can't solve, and I let things go pretty easily. We were talking about the Andrew Kern conference, both my favorite idea of parenting and educating with our souls at rest, and the seemingly incongruent idea of a rigorous curriculum for our homeschools. I spoke honestly, really I did. I truly felt at rest while providing what I consider to be a rigorous enough education for my five children.

Then, the special speaker began his talk. A former college admissions officer for U.C. Davis, he was there to give us the scoop on how to get our kids into college. I have been worrying ever since, and I am not sure why. I can't imagine changing anything just to get a "cool" angle on the college application. We're not funding our children's education, so their options are limited by their own lack of willingness to drown in debt. The U.C. system itself goes for twenty-five thousand dollars a year. Yikes. My three oldest children were at the meeting with me, and my oldest in particular had some concerns about the approach this man was walking us through. It seemed so much like a p.r. spin to her, and I am not sure she's that far off.

This is a subject I'll be mulling over for the next...well, I guess the next eleven years, since my youngest is seven. I can't say they will all go to college, but we sure have a lot of talking and praying and researching to do. All the while, though, we continue doing what we know is right. We keep loving learning, we keep reading the best and the just okay books, we continue stretching and growing and trying new things. Not because they will make us look cool, but because it's what we love to do.

And, I must stop worrying. It's a waste of time, and I'm making a liar of myself. Not good.

Spring beauty

I had plans to write deep thoughts today, but the sun shone in the window. I couldn't ignore it after it had been gone for so many weeks. I walked in the front yard, enjoying my gardening daughter's fruitful labor.


An iris for Alison

I thought of my dear friend Alison, far away in Half Moon Bay, but always close when I see the iris blooming.



Buttercups

A walk produced a bouquet of exploding sunshine: buttercups in abundance. They are such blithe flowers, a welcome display for the dining table.


Sunshine!

I am amazed at the colors on the day after it storms (yes, again.) The sunshine is so bright, making my eyes squint as I watch the clouds dance across the brilliant blue canvas. Today was irresistible, cool but clear, and no forecast of rain for three days. No wonder I couldn't come inside.

Good Friday

"Sitting here at the typewriter in my study, I turn to the symbol of the crucified Christ on the wall to my left. And I hear Jesus praying for his murderers, 'Father, forgive them. They do not know what they are doing.'

The scorpion he had tried to save finally killed him. To the passerby, who sees him stretched out on the tree roots and who shouts, 'Only a madman would risk his life for the sake of an ugly, ungrateful creature,' I hear Jesus answer, 'My friend, just because it is fallen mankind's nature to wound, that does not change my nature to save.'"

Brennan Manning in Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter

And, a post from Mental Multivitamin that I thought of many, many times since it was posted last year. Worth a read. Worth a re-read.

Good Friday blessings to each of you, dear readers.

Spring break

Reading


In This House of Brede
(Thanks, Amanda.)


Blue Like Jazz


Listening


Steven Curtis Chapman's Greatest Hits


High Rulain audiobook by Brian Jacques


Watching


Our Mutual Friend


Notorious


Much Ado About Nothing

Drinking


Peet's French Roast

Missing


The man of my dreams, returning tonight!

Day trippin'

We did a one day, round-trip blitz to the San Francisco Bay Area on Tuesday. My husband is gone on his annual trek to Washington, D.C. (more on that later) and we are off from school for the week. It was a rainy day, and a long drive, but we had an absolute blast. Mom wanted to go for a visit with a dear friend who is recently widowed. Her husband was Mom's boss for many years, and Mom is an important part of the family. He was a remarkable man and has left a huge gap. Mom is a great listener, a hard worker and a very funny person, so she is just who you want to have around when you need to do the emotional and physical work of grief. It was a blessed time for both of them. The property where this woman lives is a bit of country in the midst of suburban peninsula living. They've been there since 1962, and the majestic oaks, blooming wisteria, signs of deer life, and the seedlings for their son's organic produce (an article about Craig Murray here) were all irresistible to us. This is the oak in their circular driveway:





and this is the front walkway:




The wisteria was of special interest to us as we have one that simply does not bloom. I was glad to see what the blooms would look like should ours ever decide to be a functioning wisteria (I'm not holding my breath.)


Waiting for Latte Mama


We then headed south to my dearest friend in the entire world. But first: a stop at the cafe. I sleep terribly when my husband is gone, and we had set a 6:00 a.m. departure for our whirlwind tour, so I was already getting the sleepies at 10:30. None of the usual decaf. option on Tuesday; it was a triple-shot latte kind of day. That one mug kept my wings flapping for the entire day. Oh, the joy of caffeination.

Our time with friend Stacy and her crew of five children was bittersweet. We hadn't been together as families for too long, and the children enjoyed the pleasure of getting reacquainted with friends who are like extended family. Stacy and I curled up on the couch to try and catch up. Over the last two years, we have been unable to have annual visits for our families (we usually go away for a weekend each summer) because Stacy's dad's health has been failing. He passed away this winter, after a long battle with lung disease, so the grieving has only just begun. I was so glad to be there and to listen. Stacy is the most loyal kind of friend; I refer to her as the president of my fan club, and my life is much richer because of her commitment to me. Our few hours together were over in a blink.




Our next stop was the Palo Alto Goodwill. Passing on the love of thrifting to my children has been such fun, and I was amazed at the treasures each discovered. Suit jackets, pottery, linen shirts, twirly skirts, and a rocket launcher are examples of the loot we plundered. This bowl was the source of serious negotiations. My youngest daughter found it, but Mom and I both tried to talk her out of it. Not a chance.




Our final destination was The Stanford Barn with my mom's cousin. She is a close friend to our family, and we usually only see her in Oregon during our summer vacation. But this year she moved her California residence to a retirement center near her college alma mater, Stanford, and we have been down twice now to help her settle in. Dinner was a little fancy (not the kind of practice I can provide for my children on my budget) and our quick visit was filled with anticipation of our summer vacation together. I would never be able to justify 50K a year to send a child to Stanford, but it sure is a gorgeous campus. All the rains in California have only made the greens deeper, and the contrasting brick made the perfect canvas to display it.

But, as always, it was heavenly to pull in our own humble driveway at 10:00 p.m. I love the Bay Area, I love the hustle and bustle of a more urban environment. I enjoy a fix once or twice a year, as I spent the first twenty-eight years of my life there, and it still feels like a familiar and happy place to me. Oh, but it's good to be home again.

The Andrew Kern conference

This past week-end's conference was a great encouragement. It's hard to collect my thoughts tonight (sleep deprivation combined with an early departure tomorrow morning), but I want to scribble down my rambling thoughts. I also want to give you a link for ordering the CD's of the lectures. I would certainly recommend them to you.

Quotes I am chewing on (remembered as best I can):

"We must model a relaxed but desperate hunger for wisdom." (The priorities in our lives speak volumes.)

"The quality of your life is determined by the quality of the questions you ask in your soul. Not necessarily the ones you speak, but the ones you are really, truly asking." I want to speak aloud my real questions, and I am challenging myself to make sure they are the questions that matter.

"Children perceive with their senses. They enjoy the sounds of words. It doesn't matter if they understand mature syntax; the question is this: will it matter in their minds later?"

"Cultivating good taste in a child is the first priority."

"We must raise our children from a state of rest."

"Contemplate ideas and discuss them with your friends."

If you are interested in ordering CD's, you can contact CCHE (Classical Christian Home Educators) here.

On a more personal note, having time with Patty in WA and Kate from Under the Sky was a slice of heaven. We chewed over what we were learning and enjoyed some Shiraz together. Sleep was not a priority, and I discovered that Kate is very, very funny at 3:30 in the morning; she learned that, as grippingly interesting as she may be, I can still fall asleep midsentence. Sorry 'bout that, Kate, but it was almost 4:00 a.m.

The color challenge

reds

My late entry for Saturday's color challenge (reds, pinks, purples.)

The week-end

Classical Education is
the cultivation of wisdom and virtue,
by nourishing the soul
on truth, goodness, and beauty.
~Andrew Kern~

Andrew Kern is speaking in the Sacramento area this week-end, and I cannot wait to hear him. I'll also be losing sleep and visiting with my dear friends Patty in WA (formerly known as MomBob on the blog-no-longer WPMs) and Kate (from Under the Sky) at a hotel in the area. Yippee skippee.

For information on Andrew Kern and The Circe Institute go here. If you prefer to listen to conference talks on CD rather than being in a room of folks, I recommend the Circe annual conference CDs. They can found under the resources tab at their website.

The Color Challenge

whites

There's a change going on in me these days. Suddenly, I am pulling out the fabric, looking at crafty blogs, enjoying creating some fun things. A favorite craft blog is (4:53 a.m.) where I saw a link for a color challenge. Today is whites, blacks and browns. More crafty thoughts coming as time allows.

Blue sky...here and gone again

Evening beauty

See that blue sky? Oh, it was glorious...until it began to disappear again this afternoon. More storms are on their way, and there is no where for the water to go. I am grateful to not live near any flooding creeks or streams or rivers, and I will say a prayer this afternoon for those who do. I would still choose rain over any other weather option, but sometimes it becomes too much of a good thing.

Troubling reading

Found at Wittingshire:

Dr. Eric R. Pianka (a University of Texas evolutionary ecologist and lizard expert) was named the 2006 Distinguished Texas Scientist by the Texas Academy of Sciences. In his speech to the Academy in March of this year, he candidly spoke on the need to eliminate NINETY percent of the population. His remarks received a standing ovation by those in attendance. Troubling reading...

UT professor says death is imminent

By Jamie Mobley
The Gazette-Enterprise
April 2, 2006

"A University of Texas professor says the Earth would be better off with 90 percent of the human population dead.

'Every one of you who gets to survive has to bury nine,' Eric Pianka cautioned students and guests at St. Edward's University on Friday. Pianka's words are part of what he calls his "doomsday talk" - a 45-minute presentation outlining humanity's ecological misdeeds and Pianka's predictions about how nature, or perhaps humans themselves, will exterminate all but a fraction of civilization.

Though his statements are admittedly bold, he's not without abundant advocates. But what may set this revered biologist apart from other doomsday soothsayers is this: Humanity's collapse is a notion he embraces."

"'The biggest enemy we face is anthropocentrism,' he said, describing the belief system in which humans are the central element of the universe. 'This is that common attitude that everything on this Earth was put here for [human] use.'

To Pianka, a human life is no more valuable than any other - a lizard, a bison, a rhino."

More on Pianka's speech: The Citizen Scientist

From Jonathan Witt at Wittingshire:

"All of this (doomsday predictions) leaves out of the equation creativity, the ability of intelligent agents to innovate, to create new and better ways to make and do things.

Have we made mistakes? Of course. Is there more we can do to clean up rivers and streams and oceans and cities around the world? Of course. But we won't preserve the Earth by telling ourselves that we're nothing more than a vicious pestilence, by pretending that we do not have dominion over the Earth. (Imagine such an approach transferred to the sphere of parenting.) We would do better to recognize the unique causal power of creative intelligence--both in origins science where it is routinely and perversely denied in the face of growing evidence, and in our models of human activity--even as we remind ourselves of the responsibility we have as stewards of planet Earth."

National Poetry Month (a few days late)

Check out the Academy of American Poets link above for resources, including a poem-a-day in your inbox.

My poetry purchases this year were very few. My choices:


The Ordering of Love by Madeleine L'Engle

Journey by Kathleen Norris

Standing by Words by Wendell Berry (essays on poetry, not a book of poetry. I recommend his book of poetry, A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems.)

My favorite "find a poem online" resource? Bartleby.com

Carnival time

If you are interested in reading a collection of articles on homeschooling or children's literature, you are in luck. This week's carnival of homeschooling has several excellent choices, and Semicolon has done a terrific job compiling articles on children's literature:

14th Carnival of Homeschooling
at

Why Homeschool

and

Third Carnival of Children's Literature
at
Semicolon

Reflections for Ragamuffins

Daily Devotions by Brennan Manning

"During the fifty days of the Easter season culminating on Pentecost, Ignatius of Loyola encourages disciples to pray daily for the charisma of "intense gladness." Clearly, he does not mean a giddy cocktail-party gaiety or a brave attempt to smile through the tears, but a deep-seated joy in the resurrection triumph of Jesus Christ...

If this prayer is heard, I shall have found a source of joy that is unassailable, for whatever happens, the Lord is always risen. Contingencies cannot suffocate this deep joy. Whether the day is stormy or fair, whether I am sick or healthy, whether I feel like a dirt ball or a butterfly, whatever comes cannot alter the fact that the Lord is risen."

Rain - the dark side

I have made it clear in my writing that I love rain. It's my favorite kind of weather. I realize now, however, that a clarification is in order: I love the rain when it is outside. Drips of water that land just outside my clothes closet do not count as the favored rain. Fortunately for us, we have competent boys who think climbing on the roof in a torrential downpour, or crawling in a creepy, crawl space of an attic is FUN. They got on the project immediately, isolated the source of the leak (the cooler installed on the roof weakened some shingles) and got the temporary solution in place.

It's a good thing because our five-day forecast options are:




and





I loved watching my competent, confident sons. I am unabashedly proud of their willingness to serve; they've done a great job of getting the water out of the house and back onto the roof where it belongs. Thanks, guys.



My heroes

Afternoon light

One day last week my son glanced out the window and grabbed his camera. The light on the valley was spectacular; the oranges and yellows set perfectly against the dark blues and grays of the early spring storm, and the skeletal lines of the oak branches creating a web of contrast. I took pictures, too, but they sure didn't capture the splendor. I think my eyes are meant to look long and hard at the light, for I have tried for over a year to capture it and never can. There's something in the seeing for me that keeps the glow in my heart. I will enjoy my son's work, though, and envy (just a wee bit) his camera's ability to capture the brilliance.





Catching the light