Yesterday at the library, my artistic daughter checked out a book about drawing, and a book of the great masterpieces of the Boston Museum of Art.   As she curled up on the couch, she kept exclaiming; “OOooo!  Mom!  They have a Monet!….and here’s a Degas! ….they even have a Van Gogh, Mom!”   As I listened to her, my worries over our lack of “school” during the summer vanished.  A few quotes flickered in my mind, and I help up the picture of my girl on the couch against the standard of those quotes. Balanced against each other, the quotes and the girl, it all weighed correctly.  My personal touchstones had shown the happenings in my living room to be genuine and full of worth.

I think all people have a touchstone of one sort or another.  In ancient times, merchants would keep a physical one to rub coins against.  If the gold or silver were genuine, it would show up to be so on the touchstone.  My Touchstones are ideas, values that want my home and family life based upon, summed up in a few succinct quotes and scriptures.

“You have set my feet in a very large room.”   ~Charlotte Mason

“Education is not the filling of a bucket….but the kindling of a fire…”  ~Yeats

Whatever is true…whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable…think about these things.”                ~Phillippians 4:8

“Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things, and give me life in your ways.”  ~Psalm 119:37

The first two quotes refer to the feeling I want our homeschool to have; life, energy, joy, interest.  I want my children to come out of each year of learning with a greater appreciation of how vast and varied this world is; with an enthusiasm towards discovery of knowledge rather than a boredom about their lessons.  My search as I look ahead each year at new curricula are for formats that will be interesting, full of real information, not bogged down with soul-killing busywork.  The Charlotte Mason ideals resonate strongly with me, with the emphasis on living books, meaningful assignments, and an aversion to that wonderfully described “twaddle.”   When I hear the children pretending something about history, exclaiming over a connection between a historical person and a geographical location, or bringing me a sample from nautre that they were just learning about, I know that the enthusiasm is there, that there is life in their education,  that I have kindled a fire.

The thing with starting a fire is that everything has to be ready and prepared before you see or feel the results.  We once had a woodstove to heat our home, and it could actually be quite some time before a fire got going enough for us to feel its’ warmth.  Long before a flame is even lit, there is planning and preparation.  My husband cut the wood each summer to give it time to dry and be ready to catch the spark; the tinder must be accumulated and the matches ready.  I was never able to go straight to lighting a large log with its potential for sustainability and life-giving heat; I had to start with twigs and sticks and kindling.

In lighting a fire of education in my children’s minds, I must go by the same principles, and this is where the two scripture verses come into play.  Having good materials, prepared and presented in an appropriate order, will help ensure that the spark of the match will actually accomplish something.  By surrounding my children with things that are lovely and true, I am hoping to prepare their minds for that flame of interest and self-motivation.  I think that it is equally important to safeguard against thing that are worthless; they act to smother that spark and close off the room, creating mental immobility.  In our home, T.V shows are the greatest source of worthlessness, although there have been some books and some really irritating, heavily-marketed toys that are also in this category.  I don’t think that all T.V. is worthless, but there is just so much that is.  My eleven-year-old son, in particular, is often drawn to what I consider “Cheez-whiz for the brain.”  The more lax I am about letting worthless things in, if I don’t see them as outrightly harmful, the less of a spark I see when things that are “commendable” are before him.  Checking the things allowed into our home against my touchstones helps me to draw a line between allowing what is lovely and true, and rejecting what is worthless; between seeking things that encourage life, and blocking out things that stifle it.

One of the things I most especially like about touchstones is how flexible they are.  An ancient touchstone would reveal a coin to be genuine irregardless of size, form, or what it was used to purchase.  My educational touchstones have guided me no matter what age my children were, what kind of structure our days were taking, or what branch of knowledge they were learning.  When I have been unsure of a book/curriculum/program/activity, I can compare it against these touchstones and not just get a sense of its actual value, but have a good solid reason for my opinion. I am so grateful for the stability and bedrock wisdom in these four ideas; it has helped so much through the years to be able to weigh the activities in our home against a standard.  The outcome shows its promise in that girl on the couch, exclaiming over a Monet.

I love getting emails asking me if we are almost done with our school year; in an email, no-one can hear me laughing hysterically.  I’ll never be done.  At least, not until the kids move out and I have no-one left to teach.  Or force math upon.  However, we do change our schedule and methods a bit, because, frankly, we do all get pretty sick of “school” by June, and if I mix it up a bit, we can keep going pretty well.   Or at least for a little longer.

This year, I really need the kids to keep grooving through early American history; we aren’t even at the Civil War yet.  However, I don’t want to nit-pick our way through to the official end of our curriculum, marking off the individual assignments and whatnot.  I have been doing this long enough, and as long as I have a general topic, I think I can help the children get a fairly good bit of learning done. 

So, we are studying the Lewis & Clark expedition.  My lazy-mommy-on-summer-brain mode?   Get as many books as the library will let me, and have the kids read lots every day, and write a “paper” each week.  For Littlest, a “paper” will just be a complete paragraph.  For Girl-Child, who is twelve, I want a five-paragraph essay, with beginning and closing paragraphs.  Ten-Year-Old will be somewhere in the middle.  They are to each choose a topic related to Lewis & Clark, read up on it, write their stuff, and then copy the papers for their siblings so that everyone gets the benefit of everyone else’s research.  So far, the reading has been the easy part, getting them to write is like pulling teeth over here, but I am breaking it all up into increments and holding them to it.  The topics that I have books on are about Seaman, the dog, Sacagawea, York, the slave who was viewed as a brother, their food, their technology, the plants they encountered, and their interactions with the Native tribes.  The children will all be doing a timeline as we go, completing some simple mapwork, and I am reading a fairly detailed overview out loud to them all. 

 Now, doesn’t that sound like a wonderfully comprehensive study?  I am really excited about how EASY this feels, and also how much they will learn.  With some simple Nature Study and keeping up with their math lessons, I cannot believe how relaxed this feels, while still containing most of the elements of a great education.  As I am reading “A Thomas Jefferson Education” by Oliver Van DeMille,   I keep hearing the message that is also prevalent in Charlotte Mason ideas; a great education is comprised of reading great books and writing about the things one learns.  I feel like my “SummerSlackerSchedule” is actually closer to these marvelous ideas than anything else I have ever done.  Which totally begs the question; why don’t I homeschool this way all year?  Why can’t I keep things simple and high-quality and consistent?   Seriously, what would I REALLY need to change when fall rolls around?  I would like to add Latin to the Big Kids’ stuff, but honestly, I don’t think school ever really needs to get a whole lot more complex than this.  I think we will be looking for more open, general outline-types of curricula from now on, so I have a big-picture type of plan in front of me, and we might just keep on reading and writing for our main educational activities.  I love this.

It is so fun to immerse oneself in books, isn’t it?  I can get so lost in something well-written; I remember one Christmas when my children were still very small, and were down for their nap, and I picked up “Lord of the Rings” for the first time.  I became so lost in it that I forgot I was simply a person in a chair reading a book, and when the babies awoke and we needed to go to Grandma’s, it was quite a shock.   Later in my life, when I learned about Charlotte Mason-styled days, I went through a time of what I called “Mommy School,” and during naptime, I got out  my own personal “school” basket.  It had three or four books, a five-subject spiral bound notebook, two good pens, and a timer.  I would sit down and set that timer for ten minutes, read a book, write about it for five, get the next book out of the basket, and repeat the process.  It was wonderful, intellectual stimulation for me during a time when I was practicing my ABCs and beginning addition all over again, in between diapers. 

I am not so scheduled now, but I do like to keep a stack of books on hand about a variety of subjects, to keep my brain from clogging up with sludge as I teach my third child to read.  I do have a reading journal, but it is much, much simpler than the writing assignments I gave myself when setting myself to “school.”  I mostly jot a sentence or two about the jist of the chapter, then move on.  I do try to read something at an adult level that applies to whatever the kids are learning, so in a  way, I see this as continuing my own education.  Here is the list of books I have going right now: 

“Rare Encounters with Ordinary Birds; Notes from a Northwest Year”  by Lyanda Lynn Haupt.  This is an absolute gem of a book, a true “living book” in the  Charlotte Mason style.  The author is incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about her subject, and so engaging.  I have loved every chapter, and feel that I have learned so much.

“A Thomas Jefferson Education”  by Oliver Van De Mille.  I borrowed this book from a friend at the beginning of the school year, and I am finding the ideas challenging, their implementation downright terrifying.  I need to hurry up and finish it~while still absorbing the main ideas~ and get it back to her….

“Open Heart, Open Home”   by Karen Burton Mains.   A wonderful book about hospitatlity, using our homes to serve God and each other, with great thoughts and high ideals.  Also going slowly through this one, because I am being challenged by it.  I want to try to live up to the challenge.  So many good thoughts about the Holy Spirit, stewardship, not letting hospitality become a time for showcasing anything of me. 

“Who Is Israel?  Redeemed Israel, A Primer”  by Batya Wooten.  This is such a neat little book with a revolutionary idea.  I am excited to read it and dig into her take on the “two sticks” of Ezekiel.  I loved getting to hear her in person, and I am hoping that some of that same tell-it-like-it-is, shoot-from-the-hip kind of humor is in her book, as well.

“A Walk Around the Pond” by Gilbert Waldbauer.  Can anything by a man named Gilbert possibly be ucky or boring?  The children are going to be doing a little bit of pond study for science, this is my contribution to learn something, myself.

“Tchaikovsky; the Man and His Music”  by David Brown.  This thing is huge.  My music class kids are learning about this wonderful composer, and I wanted to do the same, but judging by the size of this book, it may contain more than I want to know.  We’ll see how far I get before the library starts sending me hate mail again.

I still get so excited when I am jotting my little summations in my reading journal.  I love it that I have learned something, that my mind has grown just that little bit much more.  I love having a variety of reading material; science, nature, art, theology, Christian living, education….One of my favorite Charlotte Mason quotes is that “You have set my feet in a very large room.”  This world of our Lord’s is so grand, so varied, it is a joy to get to find out more about it!

I would love to hear what is in your book stack~

For this new beginning, my second attempt at blogging, I’m going to get very honest and real.  It’s the season for it. 

We have been celebrating Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread for a few years now, and I always look for what lessons the Lord would have me learn as I clean my house out in the spring.  I aim to get all leaven out of here; all yeast, all baking powder, all baking soda.  Always, the Lord teaches me something through this process.  I have to admit, I didn’t like this year’s lesson one bit.

As I thought about yeast, (one of my favorite things in my kitchen,) I realized some of its qualities really applied.  Yeast, when mixed in a batch of dough, is invisible.  You cannot see it or feel it.  However, under the right conditions it makes itself known by changing its environment completely; it totally alters the nature of the item being created.  I’ll get back to this.

I have some friends who are divorcing.  I have had to stand helplessly in my happy little life and watch theirs crumble; my friend has become so broken, so hurt, so damaged…the house was lost, friends were lost, church families were lost, there was just near-complete destruction on both sides.  I cried with both, prayed for both, tried to talk with both…and then…

I hate this part.  I found out that there were lies being spread about my friend.  Horrible, damaging, lies.  Deliberate lies.  I asked, I double-checked, I proved it.  I have never despised anyone so thoroughly.  I actually think it gets rather too close to hate.  My anger at this man has nearly consumed me; my anger at those who would believe such filth about a woman who worshiped with them, taught their children Sunday School, and poured herself out into homeschooling her three was close to becoming overwhelming.  I would love to blame this rage on him~he has done horrible things, it is only right to despise someone like that~but I know better.  The Holy Spirit in me knows better. 

The real problem is not this man’s actions, but my reactions.  All it took was for one fellow sinner to act like a turkey for all this hidden rage and hatred to come surging out of me, like my yeast hiding invisibly in a batch of bread dough.  It was there, waiting for the right conditions, and then made itself known quite obviously.  I can toss my jar of yeast, I can throw away the bread hiding in the back of my freezer, but it is harder to perform self-surgery and get rid of this yeast of malice.

The reason why I am starting this little blog out with something so personal and–to me–raw, is the other “Leavening Lesson” that the Lord taught me at Passover.  Another dear friend of mine came over to celebrate with us, and asked how my Spring Cleaning had gone.  “Pretty well!” I chirped, “I got through the whole kitchen…expect for just one spot, that I’m going to ignore and pretend doesn’t exist, just for tonight.  It’s time to just focus on our meal and our time together.”  It was the phrase “pretend it doesn’t exist” that stuck in my heart.  I don’t want to pretend that this side of me doesn’t exist.  I don’t want it to stay hidden until the next fellow sinner acts like a turkey.  I want to be aware of the sin in myself so that I can be on guard, and ask my Lord for help in getting rid of it earlier on.  I want to keep the Feast in Spirit and in Truth, and I want to live a life that is pleasing to my God.

1Cr 5:7	Get rid of the old yeast that you may be a new batch without yeast–as you really are. For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed.
	1Cr 5:8	Therefore let us keep the Festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and wickedness, but with bread without yeast, the bread of sincerity and truth.