A new path

Last night, after a nice dinner on the deck, we watered everything in the yard because it wasn't supposed to rain for three more days and things were looking pretty dry.

So tonight it's raining.

I guess that should be a good reminder that no matter how much planning we do, life and nature have their own way of going and we just have to go along with it. I've mentioned, time and again, moments when I've needed to remind myself to go with the flow that Calvin is creating in his own learning world. Lately I think I've gotten off the path again, and being lost in the woods of malcontent is not a fun place to be. Blame it on lack of sleep, or on summer heat, but being lost in those woods has made me stop to take stock of the surroundings and reorient with the compass.

And since a metaphor can only go so far, I've actually been revisiting my beliefs about schooling and learning. As much as I believe that unschooling is or can be a beautiful thing, it's along that path in particular that we seem to lose our way. Sitting with Jon after bedtime tonight I was lamenting what I saw as failures on my part and he pointed out that both Calvin and I seemed much more focused and content when we had more structure around us, like when we were trying out the Five in a Row curriculum, for instance. That may be me, or it may be Calvin, but since we are learning together I don't think it matters. Most importantly I now have to embrace the true meaning at the heart of unschooling, which is to simply go with the flow, and right now our flow is taking us towards a slightly more structured path. We'll still be among the trees, but maybe it will be in a coniferous plantation instead of a wild woods.

It's a beautiful soaking rain outside right now, the kind that falls straight from the sky in soft, drenching droplets. This is fine because rain is so much more beautiful and calming than a sprinkler, and because no matter how much artificial watering I do, only a good, natural rain can really enliven the garden.

Plus this way the rain barrels are being replenished.

Reason #365 to homeschool: learning for yourself, too

We spent some time in our garden this weekend. This is the time of year that we are in the garden the most: it's a great time to put in plants, it's an important time to weed, it's sunny but not too hot. This weekend in the garden we discovered an enemy in the form of the Colorado Potato Beetle. It's the larvae that caught my attention—fat little grub like things dressed to look like a lady bug—all over one of my plants. Upon closer inspection we discovered several leaves with eggs, and probably almost fifty of the fat, greedy little larvae themselves. We don't have any potatoes planted, and they were light bug-years away from our vegetable gardens, but there they were nonetheless. Since as a family we honor and respect all life (it's with a certain amount of horror that I watch other children deliberately and triumphantly squash bugs on the sidewalk) there was a somewhat unwelcome lesson to be learned and taught as we systematically eradicated (squashed) the entire colony and even removed the plant to the fire pit. Our first family case of "it's either us or them."

Before this weekend I'd had no idea of their existence—none at all—and now I live in mortal fear of these insects decimating my eggplant (because next to potatoes I guess that's what they like best). It's a real fear, because last year we lost the last of our tomato crop to a giant tomato hornworm, and the year before that we lost the last of our squash plants to squash bugs. Thanks to our gardens we sure are getting to know a lot of pests. As Jon said to me over the insect carnage in our street this past weekend "Why haven't I ever seen these things before? Where have they been? Where did they come from?" He is talking about not only all these dangerous bugs, but also about new plants, animals, birds, ecological situations, that we've discovered together over the past couple of years between gardening and nature hikes and all manner of exploration.

With or without homeschooling in our lives we were likely to run into the aforementioned terrors, but without our inquisitive five year old we might have handled the problem and been done with it. Instead, we've learned about these creatures and about coexisting with them. And bugs aren't the only thing; homeschooling with Calvin has pushed me out of my standard comfort zone and has given me a reason, a need even, to become a perpetual learner in all fields. The flipside of that coin, of course, is that anyone who is willing and able to learn can homeschool, all it requires is the audacity to believe that it can be done.

No, I'm not a rocket scientist, but I can help my son learn how to find the answers he seeks or get the help that he needs to start down the path to become one if he should so choose. I'm not an agriculturalist, either, but after this weekend I can tell you a lot about the Colorado Potato Beetle, including how to get and keep them out of your garden.

Summer reading, and more

Today Calvin signed himself up for the summer reading program at our library. The idea is to get (keep?) kids reading over the summer, so they get prizes each time they meet their own weekly goals and are entered in an end of the summer drawing as well. Even though there is a "read to me" component we've never participated before. I don't go in for goal or reward oriented reading (says the girl with the goal of reading a book a week over the course of the year); reading is a natural part of our day, and Calvin reads plenty without enticement, outside of the pure enjoyment he gains from doing so. But this year Calvin is reading to himself and after reading the brochure he asked me about the program. I explained to him why we'd never participated before and gave him the choice of doing so now, as long as, if he chose to join in, he met his own goals all summer.

He signed up for the big kids program, the "read to myself" program. He filled the form out by himself and chose to set a goal of four completely new books each week, which, as he explained to me almost word for word, "is not very many, but will leave me time to read my old favorites and maybe a "long long chapter book, like the next Oz." I will make him a book log to keep at home, and each week he will fill out the log the library has for him under his name. And maybe I'm mistaken, or maybe it's just the right time, because I can see this being a decent thing. Having to keep the list might get him thinking more about the books and their authors, and about comparing them, too. And since he is a natural reader now, I doubt the introduction of rewards will ruin our natural flow.

And so we were at the library today, and before that this morning was the start of Calvin's two week long summer swim class, which means lessons at nine in the morning, every morning, all week, for two weeks. We're always up well before then, but we're not usually out of the house by the then, or presentable (because I often get up and go running, which is out of the house, but I'm not exactly presentable afterwards). The bright side? Just think of all the things we can accomplish this way. And today was a math day, and a checking on the bacteria we're growing petri dishes day, and a bird watching, reading, and piano day. Pretty much a run-of-the-mill day you could say.

Swan family in our neighborhood! I would have liked better pictures of these guys but it was just before bedtime that they came wandering through so it was dark, and we respectfully kept our distance. I'm hoping we'll see them again, though.

That someday may never come

We have been busy lately, but mostly under the radar since I've been tired at night and haven't the energy to go through the pictures and edit them, and then to write and post here. From birthday Legos to birthday books Calvin has been as busy as busy can be, and that's a good thing while I sort and price and sort some more. I'm so far behind that it's Thursday and I have things yet to share about Monday. That's the old blogging me, not the new blogging me. I will be so, so glad when this garage sale is over.

Our week at a glance: lots of sorting and cleaning out, a science experiment about acids and bases, the final swimming lesson of the spring session, beautiful weather with warm (but not too warm!) sunny days and cool (but not too cool!) breezy nights, new recipes (which will be blogged later), a very first library card and a mommy-made library bag to go with it, and a return to volcanoes.

For a good time compare the shot below to this one from 2009

Eye protection for the win...

I can't get over the fact that it looks like these cute little owls are afraid of my iron...

There are many, many more things I want to say. The experiments were great fun, and I'll get to them on Live and Learn in a day or so. We have more books to review. There are other thoughts I have to share, too, about motherhood, about growing up, about learning. Tomorrow is the first of the two days of the sale, and my intention is for things to slow down after that and then I'll share all those thoughts. Sound good? It does to me. Some day I'll be caught up, if someday ever comes.

I can change my mind

Spring was late this year, and slow to arrive along with it was my annual need to clean up and clear out. Purging is good for the soul of a house. We spent a lot of the last couple of weeks doing just that, focusing on the garage, then on the basement, the two places in our house that collect those things labeled "I don't know what else to do with this" throughout the cold, feet-dragging winter months. We re-stored a lot of things, re-labeled a lot of things, sent more things on their way to new lives elsewhere, and even started a pile for the community garage sale, taking place this weekend. I'm tired just thinking about it.

A cleaning out is good for the mind, too. I like to think of it as "sweeping away the inconsequential" (which I think is a quote from Atlas Shrugged if I am to give credit where credit is due). The homeschooling/unschooling process is one that is constantly evolving for us and I am routinely throwing away old concepts, plans, or intentions and replacing them with altered ideas. This is not a matter of trading in last year's hot item for the newer model, but my mother has repeatedly told me since I became a parent that no matter what decision I make now I can always reserve the right to change my mind later, and, rules and consequences aside (and sometimes even there), this has become my mantra.

It's the games that have got me really thinking about this on the eve of the sale, because in our clearing out this weekend a lot of games have gone into the "not to keep" pile, some of them games I had listed just months ago as being among our favorites. But I've changed my mind. They are games of chance, and the more I look at them the more arbitrary and inauthentic they seem. And as I watch Calvin grow the more convinced I become that learning can occur in a completely natural and authentic way, that life in general ought to be lived that way. It isn't about following directions, or dice, or spinners, or cards, it's about making decisions and seeing how they play out. So I've changed my mind—I reserve the right to do that— and though we've enjoyed many evenings of Hi Ho Cherry-O, I don't think it will be missed when we're playing Carcassonne in its place.

As for the garage sale coming up this weekend, I really am tired just thinking about it. There is nothing more depressing than watching the world at large glance over your things, discarded though they may be, and passing quick judgement about their worth.