Spring piano recital

It feels like I haven't had much to say lately. Mostly it's because of utter exhaustion—our days have been very full, what with a birthday and all—so that at the end of the day my mind is fried and I'm not thinking in terms of journal entries or blog posts. I'm lucky if I can spell out our names and get the date right. And the thing about busy days is that they produce no less laundry and require no fewer meals.

Last week was the birthday, Saturday was the party, and Sunday was the spring/summer piano recital for Jon's students, Calvin included. The recital went well. It is a real joy to see how much Calvin has grown at the piano over the past year. Just a year ago he was picking out quarter notes with one finger. I've felt torn in the past about both the formal study of piano and the recitals, something I think I've mentioned before, but I hesitate only because I don't want piano (or any learning for that matter) to become so goal oriented that the enjoyment of the process or the ability to self fulfill gets lost. This has not been an issue in our experience thus far, though, and I am not going to look for trouble where none is to be found. Calvin really enjoys the challenge of the piano. He needs little encouragement to practice every day, and, following his regular pattern, does most of his practicing entirely on his own. And the results really are enjoyable for all of us, especially since the process is equally so.

Choices

I'm sharing today. Another homeschooling mom, whose blog I try to frequent, recently shared a link that I would in turn like to share here. The article, "giving choices and setting boundaries", could be the written instruction booklet for how we've tried to approach parenting at our house. I was glad to find that we are in good company, and that someone has done the work of writing it down so eloquently. After almost five years (five!) we have found the philosophy of offering choices instead of demands to work very well, not because it leads to good behavior, but because it provides a sense of, and an ability for, independence. In the end that sense of individuality breeds self respect, which is what the rest of the world rather degradingly calls good behavior. It's a matter of perspective, or so my son tells me.

There was no rain today. None! We spent the morning on swimming, library, and a few other chores, but the afternoon we spent in the garden and then in the house with books and Legos, the windows open, the breeze blowing through, bringing the smells and sounds of a beautiful late spring day.

Volcanoes over roses

Our weekend was a bright, a truly bright, moment in an otherwise dull month. But rainy days have their own moments of splendor. Every time we drive into the city we go by these beautiful farm fields that, in the spring, are a bright emerald green, and they are never so bright as on a dismally rainy day. They make me think of Ireland, and long to visit distant shores. We actually stopped today and rolled down the window to grab a couple of shots and to breath in the sweet spring air.

I guess that is a little like stopping to smell the roses, but to me the fresh smell of the dawning of a new season is ever so much more enjoyable than an over-perfumed rose. There are a great many things deemed beautiful by the world at large—things that we are told we must experience by people who must know—but things overlooked far outnumber those that are worshipped, and who is to say what you or I will find the most beautiful. Certainly not those people who are in the know.

I mention to Calvin, while on our way home after the quick photo stop, that those fields are what I imagine Ireland might look a little like. Oh, he says, and I can tell that his mind is somewhere other than on Eire. I am right. His mind is on Iceland, and has been for a few days now. He wants to know more about volcanoes. When he started reading that dinosaur story last week I prepared books for the questions I was sure to be coming—questions about dinosaurs, of course. But Calvin is not overly interested in dinosaurs at this moment, it's volcanoes and tectonic plates that fill his mind day and night. And while it is widely assumed that children, especially boys, will succumb to a love affair with dinosaurs at an early age, volcanoes live in the shadow of their cretaceous co-habitants, at least as far as information for kids goes. But the information is out there if you leave the world of pop-culture and explore a little. We watched the National Geographic video on volcanoes for a third time tonight (thank you Netflix streaming), we have a handful of books from the library, and I've got some Bill Nye queued up on You-Tube for tomorrow.

Dinosaurs, like roses, are not favorites for all of us. We'll get to dinosaurs eventually, at least to some extent, and when we do Calvin will apparently already know all about volcanoes. I think if I offered the child a choice between a trip to Disney World and a trip to Iceland that he would joyfully pick the latter. I am good with that. Disney World is too crowded anyhow.

As you can tell, my injured hand has much improved, plus I have nearly mastered the art of typing with only two fingers on the right hand. I suspect that I will have to re-learn proper typing technique in a couple of weeks here.

What homeschooling means to us

Propping the encyclopedia open with the crayons while sketching your own volcano, using The Microscope Book as support under your paper. Why not? It's kind of like the kids in the Sideways Stories books who threw the computer out the window to learn about gravity. It really does fall as fast as the pencil, they say, and the book really does work well as a desk. There is a message in there somewhere, but it will take longer than I have right now to type it all out clearly, and besides that I think most everyone will see it for themselves.

It's just that when I came downstairs from folding laundry this morning to find this happening all of its own accord, it was like seeing an illustration of the world I had imagined and sought. And then I laughed, because not only is it wonderful, it's also got its own flavor of humor. Gosh this is fun.

Reminders

We began a new adventure today. We put the middle ages to bed over a week ago (although I only just posted the finishing touch today), and we've been exploring Spain a little, but other than the connection we have to people who are there right now, and Calvin's near obsession with Don Quixote (which really had more to do with knights than with the country), Spain as a subject just isn't imagination grabbing. Then Calvin talked me into a new book yesterday, Dinosaurs Before Dark, and I figured we'd be going further back time. As it turns out, dinosaurs are interesting, and the volcanoes are even more so. We made a special library trip today to pick up armloads of books and a couple of videos on both subjects and he spent most of the afternoon immersed in volcano studies. One of the books he picked out is an earth science experiments book. I can't wait. I've had my vinegar and baking soda stocked up and ready for a while now. Maybe even years.

And today was the first day in well over a week that made me want to get outside. It was even warm enough to sit on the garden swing and read. We discovered that flowers are coming up, the trees are budding, and the deer have been visiting. I'd guess this means they're hard up for food, since we are not right next to the woods and they only rarely come out this far. Thankfully everything we have looks un-nibbled. Don't look too closely at all the weeds and whatnot. They are just those yearly reminders, one of those nagging reminders of work that must, absolutely must get done. At least it is enjoyable work, but unfortunately it requires two hands.

Checking the rain gauge—we got upwards of an inch of rain over the past few days.

And we ventured back out on our neighborhood path today.

And Cookie is thankful that the front door is open once again, but don't try to look through the glass. That's just another of those nagging reminders that surfaces in the spring.