Play

The idea of play is interesting to me. Recently I had a discussion with an acquaintance who is going to be able to work directly with some ancient materials and he said, "I can't wait till I get to play with them" then corrected himself to say, "I mean, work with." But I think what he really did mean was play. I think the best work happens when it is play.

Mr Music give me examples of this in several areas. We were recently in Williamsburg and he got his hands on the harpsichord and was playing it, you can tell it is playing and not any sort of formal making music. Sheer enjoyment and his head is obviously somewhere in the playing.  (thanks to Miss Language for the video) He is also the best at his sports when he PLAYS them and as his mom I can tell the difference between him trying to score in whatever game or just playing... and he does so much better when he can get his head in that place of enjoyment. 

One of Miss Dog Lover's doctors has introduced us to the idea of flow theory. One researcher gives these conditions for flow, which I think is like play, to exist: 

1. Knowing what to do
2. Knowing how to do it
3. Knowing how well you are doing
4. Knowing where to go (if navigation is involved)
5. High perceived challenges
6. High perceived skills
7. Freedom from distractions

Think about it these conditions and play the next time you watch sports, or an academic at his labor of love, or a musician, or a toddler doing a shape sorter - or the same toddler once he has mastered the shape sorter and no longer has any interest in it. I am glad God has made us with abilities and interests and the ability to enjoy using our abilities. What are some areas you hit a flow state in?

Some School Years are Like That

By my count I am finishing twenty years of homeschooling. This gives me some sort of perspective point (though I am not sure how meaningful it is). 

At the beginning of the year I bought a pack of sticky stars to mark our schooldays on the calendar. Sticky stars have motivated me ever since I was in first grade so I thought how cheerful a calendar full of stars would look. 

This is how school looks at the beginning of the year, all shiny and perfect, with everything in a row.

And now last week I looked at the sheet of stars being used. It turned out the pack that was so shiny and perfect was NOT. The machine had only cut around 3 points of them and so points tear off when you try to get them off the sheet. I am too cheap to buy a new pack when I have several hundred still unused and too obsessive to put torn stars on my calendar, so using them proved to be something of challenge. Which is so often just how the whole of life goes.

This is how school looks at the end of a year. 

And after twenty years, what I know is, that's OK.

Please Do Not Mention My Housekeeping Skills

Look at this, would ya? I went to check through my random extra spices if I have bulk whole cloves or if they need to go on my shopping list for making orange pomanders. I didn't find any but instead found this bottle of yellow food color, with the lid so so corroded:

So. Not sure what you are thinking but my thoughts ran pretty much like this: Look at how corrosive yellow is. What does that mean about hope? I decided to scratch corrosive for something more positive. What do you think about transformative? I like that one. Hope is transformative. It cannot even be bottled up (think of Pandora, ye random thinkers) but escapes the bottle. I like that.

***

apologies for the excessively rambly nature of this entry. Mr Music is reading through Histories of Herodotus and believe me, I stuck to the point by comparison. 

Whittington

I want to post book reviews of things as I finish reading them. This one is out of order but it is short and the book is at hand. I picked up a copy of Whittington by Alan Armstrong at one of those "fill a bag for a dollar" sales at our library. Big risk there, huh? It made it into the bag because the cover picture looked, um, interesting.

My copy doesn't have the Newbery seal on it and at first I wasn't sure if it was for adults or children.

It is interesting, though not as I expected. It is a heavy-handed didactic barnyard Charlotte's Web with 16th century lore woven through (the more interesting part to me) and a strong moral lesson on the value of hard work and Learning to Read. 

My favorite parts were a quote near the end which I read aloud at lunch to Devastatingly Handsome and Mr Music, where, IMNEHO, an editor might have been useful: "He went to the side of the ship and untied the blue silk he wore around his neck. He wiped his face and tossed it overboard as a token for the cat." (Mr Music guffawed.) You will be stunned to learn, only a few pages later, that apparently his face was still intact, as we read that the beautiful Mary "touched his face gently, tracing his scar."

The other thing I liked was the listing of sources cited in the endnotes. I appreciate the author's thoroughness in listing everything from 1605 plays (the perfect date to encounter here on November 5th :) ) to The Blue Fairy Book to Robinson Crusoe and Herodotus.

Bean Report, Finally

I am a slow reader these days, not sure why. I finally finished reading Orson Scott Card's Ender's Shadow. Miss Language has been a fan of this series and shared it with Mr Music. Mr Music saw I was ready to read Ender's Game and was quite vocal that I must read Ender''s Shadow first, so that I would not "judge Bean ahead of time." Whatever that means. 

So, I finally did. 

Mr Music keeps asking what I think. 

Well, what do I think? I think I am not crazy about books where babies hide in toilets and children kill other children. And I never have understood why children have to command in this army, anyhow.

But. There were some interesting ideas and some good quotes. Those I marked were: 

"Do you know why Satan is so angry all the time? Because when he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes."

"So God uses wicked peoples as his tools."

"God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses."

So in the long run, God always wins."

"Yes."

"And in the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable."

"And when, in the past, would you have preferred to die, instead of being alive here today?"

"There it is. We get used to everything. We find hope in anything."  (from chapter 16)

~ ~ ~
and

"... the thing with brothers is, you're supposed to take turns  being his keeper. Sometimes you get to sit down and be the brother who is kept." (in chapter 18)

Seems like I have read these ideas somewhere before. :)

Lessons from the Porta-Potty

I am preparing to spend a month in China with Miss Language. I have never prepared for a big trip, (except, of course, the Ultimate Journey). 

I expected to have to buy a backpack, get a passport and visa, check on immunizations, make many lists, and get some lighter travel-friendly clothes and a new journal. Maybe even pick up a few phrases in Mandarin. But I did not expect a change in the way I feel about using porta-potties. 

One of the things Miss Language has told me to prepare myself for is Asian toilets. These are not raised seats, just a hole over which you strategically squat. Paper is not provided, and when you use the paper you hopefully remembered to bring - you don't flush but put it in a trash can. And there is sometimes a dipper and bucket provided for flushing. Very not me. 

And so, when I entered the porta-potty the other night at Mr Music's baseball game, and was met by The Well Known Odor and saw a lack of tissue, I was surprised to find myself thinking, not "I'm out of here", but "Oh, good, a chance to practice."

Which makes me wonder, of course, about the more spiritual applications of preparing for a Journey and seeing life in that light. As is so often the case, C S Lewis has something to point the way, from God in the Dock: 

If you think of this world as a place intended simply for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of it as a place of training and correction and it's not so bad.

If I am willing to prepare for squatty potties, how much better to prepare for glory? What Well Known Odors and lacks should I be glad to welcome as needed practice?

~ ~ ~ 

II Corinthians 4:17 ~ For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

Extra Time

Our state requires standardized testing of homeschooled students every few years and today was the day for Mr Music to go. This gave me a quiet day, with Miss Dog Lover as the only student currently enrolled, so I had a bit of time. That is a good thing.

I had time to call and talk to my Mum.  <3

I had time to watch the birds who are new arrivals for the winter.

I had time to sharpen all my colored pencils that I use for Bible marking. I started using Kay Arthur study books and have taken her marking system to a new level. This works for me because I like coloring, and it slows me down and makes me think about what I am reading.

And this evening Devastatingly Handsome and I had time to try to find an old-style piece of blotting paper and have ice cream sundaes together. :)

Poetry Hour

This morning in worship I started to notice tiny bits of white falling past me. Most odd. One came by every maybe 20 seconds or so, and then occasionally a group of three or four at a time.

Tiny. 

Random.

And white.

I ran possibilities through my mind. Not snow. We were inside and the day warm and the building tight. Not dandruff, they were falling straight down from above. Was the guy behind me launching some sort of fine cracker crumbs aloft? Or was the sky falling, I wondered, feeling a bit like Chicken Little?

I picked up a tiny crumb and put it on a sheet of note paper and wrote a note to Devastatingly Handsome and passed it down, "Some tiny crumbs keep falling down on me." He read it, motioned at the crumb, and gave me the "you are insane" look.

And still they continued to fall. 

Mr Music told me there was a ladybug crawling on the ceiling. Apparently the painter used the same paint right across the acoustic ceiling tile and the metal support and the paint does not really adhere to the metal. So, if something as rough and tumble as a ladybug crawls across it, it flakes down on the congregants in tiny bits. 

Mystery solved.

Good thing I am not a Scottish poet or I would be writing an ode: To A Ladybug. Because I am easily distracted like that in church (actually, at all times). (apologies for the formatting. Blogger and I are not getting along today. And it is not worth, it, anyhow, just a ramble...)

O Jenny do not toss your head,                   O congregants, do not fear above
And set your beauties all abroad!                 Nor gather plaster in your eyes!You little know what cursed speed                 You little know what crumbs of paint
 The bugger's making!                                  The ladybugs drop down!                  
Those winks and finger-ends, I dread,          Those crumbs and tidbits, I dread,  
Are notice taking!                                        And try not to notice!

O would some Power the good Lord give us  Oh would some Power the good Lord give us
To see ourselves as others see us!                   To pay attention as the sky falls!
It would from many a blunder free us,          It would from many a dropping spare us,
And foolish notion:                                       And foolish notion:
What airs in dress and gait would leave us,   What airs in spots and six small legs,
And even devotion!                                       Spoil my attention!

New Motto: Get Movin'

Mr Music has just started playing soccer but is less than thrilled with his team's name: The Screaming Platypuses. 

Miss Language and I have to wonder if that should be The Screaming Platypi, but, whatever. The name concerns me a little when I think of the venomous spurs on the male of the species, but, hey, Mr Music is wearing shin guards, so again, whatever. 

What I did not expect was to waken from a dream where his team has been renamed. Yes. They now sport jerseys with a rocker on the front

and are named The Amish Rockers. 

I understand that dreams are just neurons misfiring, but I gotta wonder what it is that my neurons are loaded with, anyhow.

Lions and Tigers and OH NO! THE DISTRIBUTIVE PRINCIPLE!

Maybe this will date me, but my Mum has always talked about   what happens when "an irresistible force meeting an immovable object."* I do not think people talk about that much anymore. That may be due to the whole postmodernism thing, though Miss Language assures me postmodernism is not a simple to grasp as I think - still, it does seem to have a level of uncertainty, perhaps not compatible with absolutes such as irresistibility or immovability, and so, maybe irresistible forces or immovable objects have mainly ceased to exist. 

But there remains at least one of each, currently residing under our roof. Mr Music is an irresistible force (ask anyone whose had to bat against his pitching), and, once again this year, he has impacted the immovable object of Distribution of Multiplication Over Addition in his math text. And it results in some sort of endless transfer of energy.

* be sure to check the fun link. The pizza reply is especially insightful.

Today's Theory

{Insert sarcasm font/} 
After almost a decade of schooling Mr Music, I have finally figured it out. The only logical explanation is that he has some sort of force field which drastically increases the coefficient of friction between his pencil point and the paper, thus slowing down its progress across the page. Yeah, that must be it. 
{/sarcasm font off}

Peanut Butter Balls

Mr Music decided to do some cooking for me on my birthday but was trying to do it on the sly. He kept coming to me with innocuous questions, like, "What does granulated mean?" "How do you measure butter?" and "Do we have any crunchy peanut butter?" But my favorite was "Exactly what would a recipe mean if it said 'Chill'? Does that mean, me chill, or does it mean the food?"

How to Have Hope plus a Bonus Observation about Boys

This summer I've become a big fan of Scripture Typer, an online site that lets you work against your own best time to memorize passages. A recurring theme in my life for awhile now has been taking hope. I recently memorized this verse which strikes me with its counterintuitivity every time I read it:


Romans 15:4 For everything that was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.


It is counterintuitive to me because of the part I bolded: through endurance... we might have hope. What? Really? I thought it was the other way round, and I keep thinking so ~ in the Carpe Version the text reads through hope you might endure. But no, God says, we endure and somehow that gives hope. That is good news, it means that when I think I cannot possibly deal with a situation any more (such as teaching fractions :-P ) I need to preach to myself that by continuing to teach fractions I am building - not crushing - hope. 


~~~


Bonus observation:


Boys are like this. Mr Music complained the other day that since we moved, his socks have not been as clean AND that the new washing machine turns them inside-out. Hmmmm. I pointed out that at the same time we moved, laundry was reassigned from my to-do list to Miss Dance's and perhaps she is not taking the step of turning his socks right-side out. Hmmmm. Mr Music seems to think his understanding of the situation is more reasonable. 


I am glad I do not have to depend on his logic to have hope.

*Zing* Dinner's Ready!!

Mr Music has always been one of those manly men who can take anything. Except hypodermic needles or an insect landing on his food.


And Miss Language is recently returned from China, and soon to go back, with of course, some stories about eating things for which I have no idea of the calorie count.


And Devastatingly Handsome hung one of those Blue Light Special Bug Zappers on our porch.


Imagine my surprise when Mr Music asked at dinner, "Would it be safe to eat those bugs from the light? I mean, they are practically prepared already."


So. Any biologists out there who can answer? Do bug lights kill not just the bugs, but also any sort of nasty germs they may be carrying? I am envisioning a science fair project in this one. Just so I am not called on to taste test anything.

How Would You Like to Floss This?

Homeschooling continuously teaches me that my children pick up my strengths and weaknesses and oh so often magnify them.


I have had an interest in whales and all things whale related since I was about 8. So my children tend to hear random bits of whale trivia from time to time. And when this trivia blends with the flotsam and jetsam in their minds, you never know what will surface.


So. In geometry the other day, Mr Music had to classify triangles as obtuse, acute, or right. And then he had to classify them as scalene, isosceles, or equilateral. And Mr Music also studies Latin, so word derivations float around on the surface of his brain at all times. 


So. I was unsurprised when he looked blankly at the page for a moment or two and then said. "Sorry. The 'scalene' confused me for a minute. I got to wondering if /scalene/ is related to /baleen/ and then thinking about maybe it was more like the /scales/ of fish."

And then, of course, as all good homeschoolers know, we had to have a brief discourse on how baleen works, anyhow, and what things it was used for. I have always felt they must have been able to produce a great many corset stays from one whale's baleen. And then, Mr Music classified the triangles. But I only credited the worksheet in the "math" part of his daily log, not also under "history," "languages," and "science."

Heart Day at Our House

This morning Mr Music greeted me with this little buddy he'd built for me for Valentine's day... so he has been named "Valentine." Is he not awesome?

And I am just a bit conflicted about whether I ought to post a picture of the Valentine dessert I made for tonight... see, Devastatingly Handsome has asked me not to post identifying photos on my blog, and, well, I made a mini-Devastatingly. So, here is the deal: I am going to post the picture and you are on the honor system that if you see Devastatingly IRL some day you will not say, "Oh, I know you. I saw your face on a cookie on carpebanana." Please. That would be bad for our relationship.

Lollipop Flowers

This week's art project was another fun one, and is found here. The flowers are based on the work of Friedensreich Hundertwasser (don't you feel bad for him when he had to learn to spell that name? No wonder he turned to art). 


Miss Dog Lover's has a splattery background:

I think I made my flowers a bit too small but I like the colors:

and I guess you can tell Mr Music had the Cheshire Cat on his mind: 

Eggs

Some things work the same way InRealLife and in schoolbooks and some things don't. Though, to be honest, at the moment, I cannot think of anything that does work the same way.


Anyhow. The thing that has been bugging me lately is eggs. Mr Music is at one of those fast growth periods where he eats and eats, especially protein. So I have become a big fan of The Egg. 


And the thing that stands out to me about eggs is the way they are sold by dozens (is this the case all around the world? It does seem rather arbitrary). In math books a dozen also works out to be such a handy number when you do fractions - it can easily divide in halves, thirds, fourths, or sixths. Then WHY IS IT that I never seem to exactly finish a carton of eggs? No matter how many Mr Music wants to eat at a pop, or no matter how many my recipe calls for, I always seem to have ONE left in the carton or need ONE from the next carton. In Other Words, despite the superior divisibility of 12... it just doesn't work for me.  :-P

Serious Wrongdoing

We were in the Big City today when the driver in front of us turned left on a red light. Devastatingly Handsome commented and Mr Music wanted to know what was so bad about it. So we talked about that being the kind of mistake that is more likely to kill people than to result in a fender bender.


And then came one of those moments when I am pretty convinced I have been homeschooling a little too long.


I heard myself say, "It's not as bad by dividing by zero, but it is very dangerous."

Art Class, Again

We finished our art projects, based on this post about Rizzo's style. 


Starting with Mr Music's salute to the Pierogie racers at the ballfield (notes: 1. Mr Music says it's not done and 2. I loved that my camera knew the eyes on the pierogie to the right were eyes):

Then Miss Dog Lover's awesome self-portrait:

and my alizarin crimson whale:

I am amazed when we do a project like this with clear instructions and end up with such different results. Creativity is a great thing.  :)