Company's comin'

We're expecting some special guests tomorrow night. My friend Susan is speaking in Sacramento this week-end (see information about the conference here) and she's bringing one of her sons with her. They'll both be our guests tomorrow night, and then my husband and children will play happy hosts to her son while I get some perspective and down time at the conference. Sounds like a win-win-win to me. Of course, one of the best parts of going to the conference will be seeing my friend Kate. We won't be losing a night's sleep laughing about Ewan MacGregor, like we did at the conference in Spring of 2006, but any time spent with Kate makes my life better. She's just that kind of friend.

I really enjoy getting the house ready for company. I'm good at keeping the grime and clutter away for our family, but I always like to put in a little extra for overnight guests. Yes, I know I should do it just for us, but I guess I like the motivation of special occasions. Call it a fault, but there you have it. Maybe I should just make sure we have company more often.

If you'll be at the conference, let me know. I'd love to see you there.

Madeleine L'Engle (1918-2007)

New York Times

"Madeleine L’Engle, who in writing more than 60 books, including childhood fables, religious meditations and science fiction, weaved emotional tapestries transcending genre and generation, died Thursday in Connecticut. She was 88.

'Why does anybody tell a story?' Ms. L’Engle once asked, even though she knew the answer.

'It does indeed have something to do with faith,” she said, “faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.'"

With a daughter named Madelaine and a blog named A Circle of Quiet, it won't surprise anyone that the news of Madeleine L'Engle's death makes me sad.

Rest eternal grant to her, O Lord;
And let light perpetual shine upon her.

~The Book of Common Prayer~

*48*

"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship."
Louisa May Alcott

I wait for the Lord, My soul does wait,
And in His word do I hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than the watchmen for the morning;
Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.
O, Israel, hope in the Lord;
For with the Lord there is lovingkindness,
And with Him is abundant redemption.
~Psalm 130~

These quotes are from the birthday card my husband left for me on the table this morning. It was a wonderful greeting to find waiting for me after a long and luxurious night's sleep. Aaah, the privilege of a birthday.

Today I will not teach. I will not cook. I'd say I will not be grouchy, but we've already had some cross moments. But that doesn't discourage me. We can always start fresh.

I have requested a strange combination of things for my birthday. A dump run may not sing your song, but it sure does mine. So does another load donated to the local thrift store. I have flowers and plants to fill in the front porch pots, and a trip to make to the nursery to get herbs for my windowsill boxes. My offspring have chores to do for me: power washing the house, helping me to paint a wall, cooking those meals I am not cooking, and other beautification tasks.

There are a few more foofy items on my list. My dear mother has given me a gift certificate for a spa pedicure. Just the thought makes me smile. Nothing says "luxury" to me like a pedicure. I also asked my daughter to make several pairs of earrings from our huge stash of bead supplies. She's quite a craft queen, so I now have six new pairs!

Tonight my husband and I are going to sneak out for some wine tasting at our favorite restaurant. We'd have dinner there, too, but on Monday I am having my final birthday luxury -- four hours of house cleaning help. We'll save money and have dinner at home. Deep cleaning is the perfect finale for my birthday, and it's a great way to start the school year.

Oh, and there is a stack of books, too. Some were found on amazon.com with gift certificates, and some were from half-price day at the thrift store. When I am done working today, I will have to choose where to dig in. What a delicious problem. Book details coming tomorrow.

School beginnings

Yes, we just "finished" last year's work, but we do try and celebrate a new school year's beginning.

Rather than starting everything at once, we've been peeling back the onion, one layer at a time. Layer one was speech and debate. We spent three full days at "camp", learning the basics of debate and working on the beginnings of speeches for the coming competitive season. How can hard work be such a blast? My suggestion is to choose good co-workers. And a backyard pool sure doesn't hurt.

So, the computer has been used for debate research




and then.....



layer two got peeled back last week: Great Books 1, 2 and 4, Latin 1 and 2, Homeric Greek and Gibbon's Roman History all began in earnest. Fortunately, dear Emily Callihan (soon to be Wells) teaches Latin, and her esteemed dad, Wes Callihan, teaches the rest. My job is to ask questions, remind about deadlines, provide coffee for early morning reading and class, laugh at Wes' jokes, and -- oh yeah -- pay for the classes. I knew there was one not-so-easy task. But, it is worth every penny to see one's children enthused by the Big Ideas and listening in on the Great Conversation.



The final layer is being peeled back this week. My third and sixth grade students began their seat work, with a special request for daily paper grading and homework, please! Happy to oblige. Obviously hair brushing is optional.



Amidst all those onion peels, though, someone made the time to advance to the Life rank in scouts. Four more merit badges, troop leadership for six months, and a service project, and he will have worked his way to the Eagle Scout rank. Nice work, son.



For some, the homeschool advantage is to sip an early morning cup of tea by candlelight, in her jammies, long after the school bus has roared away from the stop. A humane approach to life disguised as a luxurious cuppa.



Even though farewell to summer means no more camping adventures, I welcome the quieter days of autumn (and would happily welcome cooler weather, thank you very much.) What beautiful students I have.

Three by Annie Dillard (and one more)

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
An American Childhood
The Writing Life.

"Ezekiel excoriates false prophets as those who have 'not gone up into the gaps.' The gaps are the thing...the gaps are the clefts in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God; they are the fissures between mountains and cells the wind lances through, the icy narrowing fjords splitting the cliffs of mystery. Go up into the gaps. If you can find them; they shift and vanish too. Stalk the gaps. Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn and unlock - more than a maple - a universe. This is how you spend this afternoon, and tomorrow morning, and tomorrow afternoon. Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you."

-- Pilgrim at Tinker Creek --

Why, why, why did it take me years, decades even, to love Annie Dillard? I tried, over and over, to read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, but I think I needed to become more of an introvert to finally "get" her.

As we left for our week of heaven-on-earth in Oregon, I found myself grabbing my three-in-one Annie Dillard that included the elusive Pilgrim, tucking the book in the door pocket as we drove off for our pre-dawn escape north. We drove as far as Tonia's the first day, and Dillard would most likely have sat there like a forgotten mascot if I hadn't plunked down in a comfy chair and found myself staring at the same book on Tonia's table by the window. What perfect timing! For my few minutes of quiet before helping with dinner, I read, and I made the wise choice to start with An American Childhood rather than Pilgrim. I was hooked.

"For as long as I could remember, I had been transparent to myself, unselfconscious, learning, doing, most of every day. Now I was in my own way; I myself was a dark object I could not ignore. I couldn't remember how to forget myself. I didn't want to think about myself, to reckon myself in, to deal iwth myself every livelong minute on top of everything else - but swerve as I might, I couldn't avoid it. I was a boulder blocking my own path. I was a dog barking between my own ears, a barking dog who wouldn't hush.

So this was adolescence."

-- An American Childhood --

Was it the beautiful surroundings, or finally having time with my friend who loves Dillard? Perhaps, or maybe it was just the right time. Whatever the reason, I made my way through all three books, finishing them while we were still at the beach. Now I understand why Tonia and my dear niece The Autumn Rain and so many others have quoted her writing. Her word choices paint vivid pictures of people and places and feelings.

"Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts? Can the writer renew our hope for literary forms? Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and reveals us startingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered?"

-- The Writing Life --

With a gift certificate to use at amazon.com, I bought Annie Dillard's new novel, The Maytrees. I can hardly wait to get started.

"The Maytrees were young long ago."