Science Genes Switching On

This Saturday morning I was rudely awakened by a small, insistent whisper and someone pinching my nose closed....

"Mom! Mom! Mom wake up!"

"Euugh, ork, aghh....."

"Mom! This is important!"

"Huh? What, what's amatter?"

"How do worms move?!"

After fighting down my recurring fantasy of bunging them off to a military boarding school, we rustled up some breakfast and got down to worms.

The science gene is well and truly switched on. She picks out and laughs at things in her story books...like the Elephant Eggs in the glorious alphabet book Bad Kitty.

"Elephants are mammals! They don't lay eggs!" and "There's no such thing as Butterfly Milk! Butterflies are insects, not mammals!"

She's four. We've been following the Waldorf thingie of delaying academics to give them limitless time for imaginative and outdoor play. Now, as part of my ongoing spontaneous drift towards radical unschooling, I'm questioning the whole idea of 'delaying' things, as though the universe is divided up into 'subjects' which are mine to 'delay.'

I've gotten to the point where I'm not chopping things up into School Subjects (Oooo, she wants to know how worms move, that's BIOLOGY!) I mean, sure it is, but what is science? Just the ancient and noble pursuit of knowledge, the desire to find answers to questions....here comes the Einstein quote...

"It is, in fact, nothing short of a miracle that the modern methods of instruction have not yet entirely strangled the holy curiosity of inquiry; for this delicate little plant, aside from stimulation, stands mainly in need of freedom. Without this it goes to wrack and ruin without fail."

In spite of a lack of organized academic instruction, Scooby knew her colours and shapes before she was two, and has taught herself to count, read, write, add and subtract. Lately she's been messing about with negative numbers.

Scooby: "What's two take away two?"

Humble: "I don't know..."

Scooby: "Zero!"

Humble: "Zero!"

Scooby: "What's two take away THREE??!!"

Humble: "I don't know..."

Scooby: "STILL ZERO!!!!"

Humble: "Ahhhh!"

Scooby: "Still zero when I TALK about it, but I can make it go down farther if I write it out!"

Humble: (offering paper) "Oh?"

Scooby: (writes "2 1 0 1 2 3" on the paper and taps the crayon on the negative one while saying "bloop!")

Humble: (shows her how to make a negative sign - she's got the concept, just didn't know about the symbol!)

Last week she shrieked so loudly I thought she'd fallen into the compost bucket and came rushing into the kitchen like a worried Mother Hen. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her finger sticking down into her glass of water. "Look! My finger is HUGE and CROOKED! Why? Why!?"

Baby Man, at just-turned-three, also with no formal instruction, knows his colours and shapes, and can count to twelve (why twelve? I have no idea!) in English and to five in Spanish.

He can identify numbers up to 10 and identifies words and letters as "ABC's" but doesn't seem obsessed with them, as Scooby was. He's obsessed with how things are put together, and busies himself with ripping everything apart and putting it back together again. He also builds things, destroys them, and builds them again. This tendency is coded on the Y chromosome, I believe.

Which brings us to a little Plato....

"Do not train a child to learn by force or harshness; but direct them to it by what amuses their minds, so that you may be better able to discover with accuracy the peculiar bent of the genius of each."

I was planning to start with a formal Waldorf kindergarten curriculum this coming fall, but have been so astonished at the miraculous unfolding of Curiosity and Desire to Learn going on here, that I'm thinking it isn't really necessary.

Now I'm thinking about simply using the Waldorf concepts, which I love, and which resonate very deeply with me, to create the underlying structure and rhythm of our home environment, rather than following a formal curriculum.

I feel I must follow their lead, and if they love "academic" subjects I'm not going to prevent them from running wild with them. On the other hand, I'm not going to push them either, I'm just going to watch and learn, baby, watch and learn!

HW

Anti-Corp for the Under-Fives

"I meant no harm. I most truly did not.
But I had to grow bigger. So bigger I got.
I biggered my factory. I biggered my roads.
I biggered my wagons. I biggered the loads
of the Thneeds I shipped out. I was shipping them forth
to the South! To the East! To the West! To the North!
I went right on biggering...selling more Thneeds.
And I biggered my money, which everyone needs."

"Your machinery chugs on, day and night without stop
making Gluppity-Glup. Also Schloppity-Schlopp.
And what do you do with this leftover goo?...
I´ll show you. You dirty old Once-ler man, you!

You´re glumping the pond where the Humming-Fish hummed!
No more can they hum, for their gills are all gummed.
So I´m sending them off. Oh, their future is dreary.
They´ll walk on their fins and get woefully weary
in search of some water that isn´t so smeary.

And then I got mad. I got terribly mad.
I yelled at the Lorax, Now listen here, Dad!
All you do is yap-yap and say, Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!
Well, I have my rights, sir, and I´m telling you
I intend to go on doing just what I do!
And, for your information, you Lorax, I´m figgering on biggering
and BIGGERING and BIGGERING and BIGGERING,
turning MORE Truffula Trees into Thneeds
which everyone, EVERYONE, EVERYONE needs!

And at that very moment, we heard a loud whack!
From outside in the fields came a sickening smack
of an axe on a tree. Then we heard the tree fall.
The very last Truffula Tree of them all!"

Use Your Words, People!

A CITIZEN is a formal member of a political community, membership of which confers rights (such as the right of political participation) and responsibilities (such as adherence to the rule of law).

A CONSUMER is an organism that cannot produce its own food, clothes, tools, shelter, or entertainment and must obtain them by eating or decomposing other organisms; generally divided into Primary Consumers (herbivores), Secondary Consumers (carnivores), Microconsumers (decomposers) and Materialistic Idiots unable to differentiate between 'needs' and 'wants' who are typically oblivious to the unimaginable destruction and suffering their endless and vacuous greed creates.

HW

Great Online Resources - All Things Canadian

Today's calendar thingie involves Canadian First Nations history, and while researching it, I discovered Canada Wiki!

Am I the only one who didn't know about this mind-boggling site? For everything you ever wanted to know about Canadian Aboriginal history, go here.

Image, taken from the site, is of an Iroquois Warrior.

Breaking News! France Posts Secret UFO Archives on Web!

France just became the first country to publish their entire secret UFO archives on the web. The response is apparently so overwhelming their servers keep crashing. We managed to grab a quick peek but it was agonizingly slow. We'll check back later when the buzz has worn off a bit! Check it out!

Leave No Child Inside

Great article in the latest edition of Orion Magazine by Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods and coiner of the phrase nature deficit disorder, check out 'Leave No Child Inside - the growing movement to reconnect children and nature'.

Interestingly, it's yet another article pointing to mounting evidence that the strange modern epidemic of attention-deficit disorders is related to nature-deprivation, lack of natural imaginative play, excessive indoor living and excessive use of TV and other electronic media.

Embracing Your Weirdness

I've mentioned parenting coach Scott Noelle's "Daily Groove" before. One of his recent tidbits involved embracing your weirdness, liberating yourself and thus allowing others to become liberated in your wake. Note that your 'weirdness' is not the same as the 'individuality' of which you are proud. The 'weirdness' is the stuff you sort of worry about.

In the spirit of this, in a sort of American confessional style, I have decided to go public with some of the weirdness I generally attempt to conceal from others. I will let you know if it makes me a better parent after I count how many friends I have left.

1. My name is Humble and I'm addicted to New Age music. (Oh god, it feels so good to just say it!)

2. I must wash my feet immediately before bed or my family will die.




3. Sometimes I can't get to sleep because I read somewhere once that the average person eats eight spiders in their sleep during their lifetime.

My scientific training tells me there is no way anyone could possibly have gathered enough data to be sure this is true. My irrational mind tells me never to fall asleep again. These two minds arguing with each other keep me awake. The person who originally published this information is on my "Hunt Down and Twist Nipples" list.

4. I have a "Hunt Down and Twist Nipples" list.

5. I fully expect Civilization to Collapse within my lifetime. When faced with important decisions, I always consider the Apocalypse (non-Biblical) and how whatever decision I'm making will affect our likelihood of surviving the 'acute phase' and/or our future life as nomadic hunter-gatherers.


6. I am profoundly and inconveniently over-sensitive to ugliness and mediocrity. If exposed for too long to ugliness of landscape or architecture, harshness of speech or manner, or just a "lack of brightness" around me, I become physically ill. This leads to another weirdness, the upholding of the old-fashioned notion that Beauty, in all of its many forms, is not Frivolous.




7. I drift so far away during my daydreams, that several times in my life I have walked straight into a pole/wall/mailbox/newspaper box or stepped out into traffic. Once I came within inches of being killed by a van. To my horror, Scooby appears to have inherited this.




8. I think old women look best in braids.

I'm sure there's more, but that felt cleansing and renewing. I will go forth and parent with renewed vigour, unafraid, unabashed, uncowed by my Weirdness!

HW

Extreme Scrapbooking!

Remember these?


Well, I stumbled upon the most brilliant idea at Soule Mama's - a way to turn these incredible things into permanent whatsits you can keep forever, so you can burst into tears whenever you feel like it!

I especially love the idea of doing a whole pile and making a memory quilt for each Urchin.

Then, as I added it to the pile of things I really want to do that I might never get around to doing, I discovered someone smart and talented who will actually do it for you! Check out Laura Cowperthwaite's enterprise Quiltsalala to see more of these:

Very cool! Love them, love them, love them.

HW

Yes, I Did Promise You a Rose Garden!

pring has finally Sproinged, and that means we are getting seriously enthused about the long awaited Children's Garden!

After whiling away the Long Dark Winter with Sharon Lovejoy's excellent book, about which I cannot possibly say enough nice things, I am ready to fill the Urchins' heads with dreams of Morning-Glory Teepees, pint-sized footpaths leading to enchanted flowery whatsits, Towering Sunflowers, handmade Bird Houses, Sundials and The Mysteries of The Compost Pile.



As we wait for the Time to be Ripe, we will be drawing and painting our 'dream gardens' and talking about what sort of things they would like to grow.

I'm keen on the morning-glory tee-pee, big enough to house a couple of Man Cubs. I also plan to blow their wee minds, as I happen to know there are a few gnomes living in their intended garden, who come and go through tiny wooden doors on the trees...

Scooby wants wildflowers, poppies and roses, and Baby Man has expressed an interest in growing some race cars. Stay tuned, as we Dream and Select Seeds! Woo hoo!

k.d. lang sings 'Hallelulljah'

Still on the 'song' theme, I discovered today that Scooby was under the impression I was "making up" many of the songs I sing to the kids. She heard Leonard Cohen singing something and said "I didn't know that was a REAL song!!" I rustled up a bunch of videos of the songs in question for her, among them this one. She sat absolutely transfixed, and watched the whole thing. At the end she whispered that "Kitty Lang" has the most beautiful voice in the world. Which of course, she does.

More Vernal Equinox Fun!

Feeling all Spring-y and Equinox-y and don't know what to do? Those of you who love and miss rural Ontario life will dig this blog I found, check out Beyond the Fields We Know.

I go for a "walk" with her a few times a week.

Then go visit The Witches' Voice and brush up on your knowledge of Ostara, celebrated today.

Inspired by some very interesting new unschooling friends, we plan to begin celebrating our already utterly pagan Easter (Ostara) on this day, and casting aside all of our last pretenses to belonging to mainstream society! Yeah baby! Shake it off!

HW

Sing-a-long with Free Range!

Still on the subject of Songs, Scooby has become very interested in memorizing and practicing them.

When she isn't practicing writing - (she wrote a shopping list for Daddy-O yesterday) she's reciting the lyrics of songs, or asking me to sing.

I've been trying to find or remember some really good poems and 'sing-a-long' songs we can all do together. The songs must be new to them, and a step up from familiar 'baby songs' like "The Cat Came Back," and "Old MacDonald." Dennis Lee is our first stop for poetry.

This staple of a proper 70's childhood, by Peter, Paul & Mary, is our latest memorization project - it's fun because the song is theatrical and full of emotions - we're roaring with glee as the Pirate Ships Lower their Flags, we're sad and quiet as the Green Scales Fall Like Rain...

Any frustration with forgotten words is smoothed over when we hit a chorus.

PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON

(Chorus:) Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honalee

Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff,
and brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. Oh!

(Chorus, TWICE)

Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff's gigantic tail,
Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flag when Puff roared out his name. Oh!

(Chorus)

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend, Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. Ohhhh...

(Chorus, SOFTLY)

(Chorus again, LOUDLY)

Little Bakers Puttering in the Kitchen

They just LOVE to make stuff in the kitchen.

This time they made a lovely chocolate cake, and sprinkled chocolate, cinnamon and sugar on the top.

We're thinking it would be a simple transition to start a little cottage industry bakery thing....it's not child labour if they enjoy it, right?

The Cradlesong

Speaking of lullabies, I had to mention the beautiful and mesmerizing chant/song "The Cradlesong" from this compilation.

If I had my way I'd put it on endless loop and never listen to anything else.

HW

Lullaby & Goodnight

Sometimes nothing will send the Little Blighters off to dreamland except the Singing of Songs.

Not well-versed in lullabies, my strategy has been to rustle up from memory any semi-soothing melody, slow it down and change any unfortunate lyrics.

This has resulted in a strange but effective mixture of Harry Chapin, Loreena MacKennit, Holly Cole, Leonard Cohen, Peter, Paul & Mary, The Tragically Hip, Billie Holiday and Cat Stevens.

Lately, after Scooby and Baby Man had an argument over whether I should sing "Bird on a Wire" or "Taxi", I've been feeling I should really learn a proper lullaby or two.

With the strange serendipity that never fails me, I was listening to Live Ireland Internet radio broadcasts on St. Patrick's Day, when this ancient and haunting lullaby came on.

As I listened, it made me long to live among the rolling peat bogs and rain-swept, sheep-filled ruined castles of my ancestors.

It made me yearn to have sixteen children, preferably a bit ragged, gathered around the fire as I sang them bittersweet songs, my once glorious red braids now glinting with streaks of silver, my voice still as Lark-Like as when I was a Maid...


I sang it sixteen times tonight, and while the little Imps of Satan were still not asleep, I feel confident I have memorized it, and can perform it in a highly believable Irish accent.

Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
Hush, now, don't you cry
Ah,
Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
It's an Irish lullaby

Over in Killarney, many years ago
My mother sang this song to me in tones so sweet and low
Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way
And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day

Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
Hush, now, don't you cry
Ah,
Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
It's an Irish lullaby

HW

Cool Science - get involved!

If you haven't heard about the plans afoot to build a replica of the ship Darwin made famous, HMS Beagle, go and visit The Beagle Project.

What a fantastic way to capture the imaginations of your science-minded, or not yet science-minded, Urchins. You can follow along as they build the Beagle and maybe even sail with her!

Here is an excerpt from their website:

"The replica Beagle is not intended to be a museum ship: she will be equipped to allow aspiring and practising scientists to use her as a platform from which to collect specimens and on which to store samples and stage experiments.

The Beagle Project was founded to celebrate the achievements of Darwin and the crew who sailed with him, to be part of the drive to engage the public in science and especially to inspire a new generation of scientists.

People wishing to sail with us and use the Beagle for scientific research will need sea legs. Be prepared to do some science mentoring and rope-hauling (emeriti not excepted).

We also intend to have projects running on the boat that students in labs and classrooms can follow on our website. The Beagle's proposed itinerary is to spend 2009 - 2011 circumnavigating the world in Darwin's wake, making similar landfalls and staging shore expeditions."

Get involved! They also need donations if you feel like spreading a little rationality about. You can also help them by displaying their widget on your blog, go to the Beagle Blog to pick it up.

HW

Tootling Off to The Royal Ontario Museum

Gosh, we love the Museum.

Last week, with Daddy-O unexpectedly home and available one day, we sprang into action and beetled off to the ROM together.

Scooby loves the mummies and always seeks out the canoptic jars, which she enjoys telling me are full of guts.

After our last visit, Scooby spent weeks tightly wrapping up her stuffed cats.


There's a truly fantastic area for kids - which had greatly expanded since the last time we visited - filled with things they can touch and play with, a supervised dinosaur dig, costumes they can wear, a real teepee, all kinds of great stuff.

Within this area, there is a dedicated, staffed play area for the Under-Fives, which is full of museum-appropriate toys, books and puzzles. We go there last because otherwise they won't leave!

We visited Peru and dug for artifacts, went through the Bat Cave and hung out in an ancient Egyptian tomb.

Among the Biodiversity exhibits, there's a real, stuffed raccoon perched on a slab of wood.

I was fascinated to observe Scooby gently stroking the racoon's fur while gazing soulfully into his glass eyes, while Baby Man weaved and bobbed around her, holding onto the racoon's feet and trying to figure out how the darn thing was attached to the wood.


The dinosaur exhibits were sadly STILL being overhauled, and there were only a few smallish dinosaur skeletons on display...but the Dinosaur Guide assured us they were Super Vicious, with razor sharp teeth, savage claws and grappling prehensile arms for handling prey, so we were happy.

This time we decided to buy a membership, it's just so fantastic. The great joy of homeschooling is we get to go when it's almost completely empty, and we can really commune with the exhibits. Yeah baby!

HW

Scooby Teaches Herself to Write

Today Scooby hunkered down with her coloured pencils and began to doodle.

The next time I turned around, she had learned to write.

We'd been looking at photographs of some of her little friends, and she asked me how to spell their names.

I obliged, spelling them out loud, and writing some of them down.





She was very focused, and worked for hours without taking a break.

At one point, she became quietly annoyed with herself because her 'N's kept coming out looking like 'Z's -- so she bent over her paper and with furrowed brow drew 'N's until she felt she'd mastered them.

I was Rather Impressed with the Whole Thing.




HW

The Race

All around me, I watch the most loving and well-meaning of parents bunging their tiny little toddlers into organized sports, formal music lessons, literacy and 'head-start' programs of every kind.

Life you see, is a highly competitive enterprise, and one must be well-prepared to begin one's struggle for wealth, position and suitable mates.

Sometimes these well-intentioned parents react with surprise or even alarm when they find out my three and four year old kids play all day.

"Aren't you worried they will fall behind?"

Behind what? What are we racing towards, exactly?


To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people
And the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics
And endure the betrayal of friends;
To appreciate beauty,
To find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better,
Whether by a healthy child,
A garden patch,
Or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier
Because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Unbearable Lightness of Motherhood

When Scooby presented me with these, I surprised myself by choking up with a sort of bittersweet, passage of time kind of whatsit.

I think this might be something only another Mother Beast could understand.

This is Mommy, up the spout with Scooby...notice how I am simply an armless, walking Pod.


This is Mommy, holding Scooby's hand and knocked up with Baby Man. Somebody get me the tissues, already.

Mommy & Daddy by Scooby

We look exactly like this. It's amazing...

Scooby Draws Everyone She Knows

Have I mentioned it's been snowing?

Scooby has been in an Art Frenzy lately, and one day took it into her head to draw everyone she knows.

We couldn't fit everyone into the photos, but we think those of you who did make it to publication will easily identify yourselves.

Look! There you are!

A Study in Whippets by Scooby

"Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks." Romeo & Juliet 2.2

Speaking of Romeo and Juliet, did you know there is a Juliet Club in Verona?

The all-volunteer staff personally read and answer (translating as required) all of the over 5,000 letters sent from all over the world each year to Juliet by lovers seeking her advice or simply pouring out their love stories.

According to legend, the first letter arrived in 1937, and the curator of Juliet's tomb, obviously a deeply romantic soul, replied to it.

Now the City of Verona pays the postage to mail Juliet's responses to the lovelorn.

There are also thousands of love letters stuck to the entrance of the famous balcony building.

Wendy Dent has made two fabulous award-winning documentaries, Dear Juliet, and From Verona With Love if your romantic heart needs to know more!

Struggling with a Love-Related problem? Pour your throbbing heart out to Juliet, and mail your letter to:

Juliet
Verona
Italy

It will get there.

The Best Advice My Parents Ever Gave Me

A friend and I were recently discussing the awesome responsibility of parenting.

We both remembered our respective parents as Towering, Omnipotent Dispensers of Wisdom & Practical Knowledge about Everything.

We wondered what OUR kids would remember about us when they were grown into Fine Strong Lads & Lasses and we were tottering about in the garden, muttering to ourselves and yelling at aphids.

There are many little pearls of wisdom I walk around with inside my head, thanks to my parents. "Ladies pinch, whores use blush," among my favourites.

Other useful advice I have retained includes:

"Measure twice, cut once."

"Never use a big word when a little word will do."

"Always assume everyone on the road is drunk, homicidal and having a bad day."

and

"People are idiots."

One piece of advice sticks out above the rest though. One day, when I was a teenager, my Dad said something to me that helped me make sense of my world, and continues to inform my course through life.

"People will tell you the world is full of Wolves and Sheep.

They will say you must choose which one you are going to be.

But I am telling you, there are also Foxes."

HW

I'm Just a Bug on The Windshield of Love

Ok, I was fine right up to:

"Before she runs away,
like a fast little filly,
she's a five alarm fire,
a hot bowl of chili,
and she's burning a hole,
in this hillbilly,
and I can't let her get away."

We have Internet Radio, and lately Scooby has taken to selecting the 'genre' each morning.

We've had soothing New Age days, light-hearted Hawaiian days, bouncy African days, misty Celtic days, Rock & Roll days, happy Reggae days and we've spent a lot of time listening to Didgeridoos.

The last two days in a row, she has requested Country Music.

Now, I was raised on a 100 acre farm way out in the boondocks, baby, and consider myself to be a very thinly disguised Redneck.

Just because I know what pesto is, doesn't mean I can't appreciate a guitar, a campfire and a Cowboy.

Just because right now I live in the city, doesn't mean I don't secretly think all these neurotic self-absorbed urban types would be a lot better off if their Daddies had sent them out into the fields to dig all the rocks out.

I've baled hay, ridden horses, bottle-fed calves, mucked out stalls and worn bandannas, but somehow I never got around to listening to Top 40 Country Music.

Now, thanks to my daughter's latest musical passion, I'm walking around singing in a twangy way "Cause men and mascara, alwaaaaaaaaaays run...."

I'm forced to admit these crazy country songs have a certain simple emotional power, and I get why they are so popular. Now, how does one break an Internet radio....

HW

My Little Drooling Misfits

When we started this blog, we started at the very beginning, and went through everything we imagined family and friends might be concerned about, with lots of links and information and explanations and Question & Answer Periods and reporters in the field.

Some of you apparently missed it, and we're sorry about that, but we can't turn this blog into a Defender of the Basic Idea every time someone asks us if this is going to turn our bright, funny kids into goggle-eyed social misfits who eat with their hands, so we're giving you John Holt's list of Common Objections to Homeschooling.

May we also suggest that anyone with concerns browse our archive, as we've discussed many of these topics half to death.

HW

The Daily Groove

I found this while tootling around on unschoolers Daikini Crossroads' site, signed up and have been really enjoying it. It's The Daily Groove by Scott Noelle from Enjoy Parenting.

Every morning a parenting idea or a little piece of parenting wisdom pops up in your email (I use the email I keep for commercial thingies, in case I get spammed because of this) and it's really great, not the usual mainstream rehashed tripe.

Yesterday's was about Silence. Today's was about Scarcity and Abundance, and compelled me to share this thing.

HW

Check out The Beagle Project

The eminent Charles Darwin has landed on Canadian soil.

He is here to drum up support for the rebuild of the Beagle across the pond, which will be ready for his 200th birthday party. Check it out at The Beagle Project.

Upon his arrival, and after partaking of some light refreshments, Mr. Darwin immediately asked me if I was "an airdog or a fancy pants looking to dish the old two-plankers and go snowing down some sick rails and awesome kickers?"

Then he said, "come and chillax with the other shredders at the totally beige super-pipe up the Mountain, dude. Ya smell me?"

Then he put on his snow pants and ran away.

We think he's enjoying the local attractions, but you know, some of those British accents are kind of hard to understand, so we're not entirely sure...

HW

Hanging Up our Shingle!

We found this fantastic folk artist guy who made us this beautiful sign, yeah baby!

This Week's Bread, Bread, Glorious Bread!

Homeschooling Package Designers

Should your homeschooled child demonstrate an interest in the Ancient Art of Package Design, may I suggest you encourage them to a certain level of . . . creative restlessness.

Perhaps then others will not have to endure the Calamity suffered by Humble and her coffee maker yesterday morning.

Perhaps then, those of us who spend the nights meowing menacingly at the bedroom wall, in fruitless attempts to subdue Fritz the Uber Mouse into chewing through the electrical wires more quietly, will be able to enjoy a nice cuppa in the morning without incident.

It's a crazy dream, I know. But it's my dream.

HW

Raising Blackbeard's Queen Anne's Revenge

Mmmmm, pirates....this one's for you, Sailor Spork.

We found a neat article about some folks who think they've found Blackbeard's ship, Queen Anne's Revenge off the coast of North Carolina.

Big Yellow has a neat online Blackbeard thingie with great pics.

Notice how I have learned to hide my links under the words like a real blogger...shiver me timbers, I be growing and changing...

Fun with Penguins

It's minus 25 degrees Celsius here today in balmy Southern Canada.

Scooby & Baby Man, pressed to the window, watching the birds being blown off the bird feeders by the brutal winds, "Can we go out?"

Humble: "Nope, it's SO cold the penguins are stuck to the sidewalks!"

Scooby: "It's so cold the polar bears are stuck to the penguins!"

Baby Man: "It's SO cold, the ice creams are stuck to the polar bears!"

And so on...

Here is our 40 foot pear tree in the snow. We believe it is, in fact, the largest pear tree on Earth.

When we moved here, a poet friend of mine, who has sinced moved to Old Montreal and spends her days stalking Leonard Cohen, said "You'll have babies here. Pear trees are powerful fertility totems."

Two babies later we're getting ready to move before we end up living in a shoe.

In addition to word games, what does one do when it's too cold to draw breath?

Leggo, baby, Leggo.

Web of Friends

Thanks to our good friend Island Sarah who wishes to cure Humble of her arachnophobia and has recommended this book.

She has also invited us to "Spider Sunday" -- an event on the Island.

Apparently they all tootle off and observe the wonders of webs...as Island Sarah says, "When the dew sits on our thousands of spider webs like jewels and reveals the magic engineering within..."

Well, we think that's just super, but Humble's pretty sure she'll be sick that day...but hey, maybe the kids would like to go!

Just make sure to fumigate them before you bring them back, ok?

HW

Scooby Stamps up Some Good Learnin'

Scooby loves her alphabet stamping set.

She plunked herself down and asked me how to spell the name of an acquaintance of ours.

Before I could get the "C" out of my mouth, she announced, "I know it starts with a 'C'...and then it goes 'aaaaa' so that's 'A'...." and off she went.

Then she did one of the dog's names. Notice how she used the lower case 'R' when she couldn't find the upper case one.

Methinks we knows our letters.

HW

Introducing Marmalade and Bootsie

These beautiful handmade dolls have become such a big part of Scooby and Baby Man's lives, we thought it was time they had their own 'bit'.

We phased out the giant jumble of plastic toys and phased in a new era of fewer, but higher quality, playthings made of natural materials.

The Waldorf Gurus we sought out promised us the Urchins would treat these dolls like human friends, and we had our doubts...but it's true!









We weren't sure if Baby Man would take to his, as he didn't show much interest in the plastic dolls Scooby played with, but he and Bootsie do everything together.

At night, Baby Man often digs out Bootsie's duck PJ's and props him up so he can see the books during storytime. Lately, he's taken to cooking for him.

Marmalade, shown here as a mermaid, is the Queen of Scooby's dolls and is treated with great love and respect.

It's really clear to us that they have responded to the obvious quality of these dolls, painstakingly made by a human being.

At first, in my ignorance, I didn't like these dolls much, with their primitive faces. Their facial features are deliberately left rudimentary so the child can imagine the doll to be having any emotion. They are stuffed with sheep's wool, which warms up as the doll is held, so they feel 'alive'.

As their wardrobes have grown, thanks in part to a clever knitting Grandma, we've found the Rugrats have continued to take great care of Marmalade's and Bootsie's clothes (I thought as the clothes piled up, they might take them for granted).

We set them up with hangers and a little knob rack and are frankly amazed at how neat and orderly the tiny clothes always are. It's all true! These Waldorf folks really know their stuff.

Little Bakers Puttering in the Kitchen

They felt like baking so the Loin Fruits made some beautiful Oatmeal cookies with only a teensy bit of oven-related help from Humble.

Here is our yummy recipe:

1 cup organic whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
shake allspice, cloves, ginger, whatever floats yer boat
shake ground sea salt
3/4 cup organic safflower oil
1 cup organic sugar
2 organic eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup organic soy milk (keep an eye on US organic certification with soy, weakening standards mean they might allow GMO shortly)
3 cups organic oats
1 cup organic raisins

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Mix together with wooden spoons and wild abandon.

Drop by spoonfuls on greased sheets.

Bake for 15 minutes.

Cool.

Clean kitchen for two hours.

HW

Throwing the Lions to the Christians

It took me forever to dig out from under the piles of homeschooling American Born Again Christians, and find some more relaxed folks.

Recently I read a post by one of these folks, and she was having the same problem.

So I thought I would share with you the blog ring I found for homeschoolers with young children -- the Early Years Home Education Ring, and you can find it at the bottom of my page.

This Ring is open to all nationalities, but is composed largely of UK types, many of whom may well be Christian, but who don't prostrate themselves all over their blogs so you can't learn anything about how they are homeschooling.

Cheers!

HW

PS If you have a Java script blocker enabled, you might not be able to see it - it should show up above the Homeschooling Blogs ring.

Rhyfeddod Lleiaf o Rhiannon

I was feeling a little pagan, so rather than frightening the children by running around naked, I thought I'd learn a bit more about Rhiannon on her Feast Day.

Rhiannon (also called Rigantona (Gaulish) or Regina) is a Welsh Moon Goddess, Horse Goddess, and War and Battle Goddess.

She also is a Goddess of Fertility, Death and the Otherworld. Her name translates as "divine" or "great queen" and there are those who think she is a Welsh version of Epona.

Rhiannon's father is Heveydd the Old, and she was married to both Pwyll and Manann.

Rhiannon is usually pictured riding her pale white horse. Some say Rhiannon's home is near the magical mound of Arberth, not far from St. Bridget's Bay in Wales, since many have claimed to see Rhiannon riding by.

Others say her home is on the island of the Sidhe folk where the souls of the dead reside.

Most of the stories about Rhiannon appear in the Mabinogion, a collection of Welsh myths. One of the best known of these is the story of Rhiannon's marriage of love to Pwyll.

Rhiannon gave birth to a son named Pryderi ("trouble").

Later Rhiannon was falsely accused of killing Pryderi, who was really kidnapped.

All six of her handmaids had fallen asleep when the child disappeared. Fearing they would be punished for their negligence, they killed a dog and smeared Rhiannon with the blood.

They then placed bones near her bed, and accused her of eating the child. Rhiannon was deemed guilty, but Pwyll, instead of having her killed, stood her at the gate of his city to carry people in on her back like a horse.

Her lost child was returned years later when a servant discovered him on Bealtaine. After Pwyll's death Rhiannon married Manawydan (Manannan).

In her role as a Death Goddess, Rhiannon can sing sweetly enough to lure all those in hearing to their deaths. When her song is joined by the singing of her birds, it is said the song is so beautiful it can wake the dead and heal all sadness and pain.

Rhiannon is associated with horses, especially white mares (the horse represents the power and fertility of the Kingship of the clan); silver; blood; the waning moon; jasmine; moonstones; and the color white.

There are two Pagan festivals connected with Rhiannon. 'Gwyl o Rhiannon' (the Feast of Rhiannon) is celebrated at sundown on December 2. 'Rhyfeddod Lleiaf o Rhiannon' (the Lesser Mysteries of Rhiannon, but frequently referred to as 'The Feast of Rhiannon' in modern times ) is celebrated from sundown March 3 through dawn March 6. Both these dates are still celebrated in modern times by some Welsh Witchcraft traditions.

(borrowed, with liberties, from The Witches Three & Wikipedia)

That Dream Where You Wake Up & Know the Answer

Back when Scooby was just a little bawling slug and Baby Man was just a Twinkle in Daddy-O's eye, I was starting to think about home education.

A little research led me to believe that I was a natural born unschooler.

A little more research turned me off unschooling, as I was unfortunate enough to stumble across a few family web sites where the term was used to justify the fact that their dough faced kids sat stunned in front of their video games all day and night, horking back genetically modified food and discussing the 'plots' of television shows.

A little MORE research, however, led me to the discovery of thoughtful, interesting, talented and deeply involved parents who were really, really thinking.

Finally I've even found some parents who are taking unschooling to its logical conclusion, the idea that real learning is simply a natural and spontaneous result of living a rich and meaningful life. These families are focusing on living joyfully and having real relationships with each other, instead of worrying about 'behaviour' and other superficial parenting concerns.

One day last week, the day before we usually bake bread together, I noticed we were actually out of bread. Up to this point, baking bread was an exercise, something I was showing the kids, something I was teaching them. On this day, in a blizzard, with Daddy-O at work, we actually NEEDED bread!

I explained to the Urchins that we were out of bread, and suggested we make our bread immediately, so we could have some for lunch.

What happened? Even though they love making bread and have been very enthusiastic, on this day, it was Special.

They were very focused, and demonstrated a real mastery of kneading skills. It was the first day they didn't need the recipe, they just dove in. They took a passionate interest in the risings and shapings and baking, and were clearly very pleased with themselves when we sliced their beautiful bread at lunch time.

We needed the bread. We weren't making it as an exercise. We needed the bread to eat.

Recently, with these concepts floating around in my cavernous head, I stumbled upon a passage in my John Holt that hit me like a thunderbolt:

"Hiram Salisbury was a man of this time (1815)...He knew every farm chore. He milked cows and attended the calves in birth. He physicked his horse. He plowed, he planted, he cultivated, hayed, picked apples, grafted fruit trees, cut wheat with a scythe, cradled oats, threshed grain with a flail on a clay floor. He chopped the corn and put down his vegetables for winter. He made cider and built cider mills. He made cheese and fashioned cheese tongs. He butchered the hogs and sheared the sheep. He churned butter and salted it. He made soap and candles, thatched barns and built smokehouses. He butchered oxen and constructed ox sledges. He fought forest fires and marked out the land. He repaired the crane at Smith's Mill and forged a crane for his own fireplace to hang the kettle on. He mended his children's shoes and his own. He collected iron in the countryside and smelted it. He built trundle beds, oxcarts, sleighs, wagons, wagon wheels and spokes. He tuned logs into boards and cut locust wood for picket fences. He made house frames, beams, mortised and pegged. With six men's help he raised the frames and built the houses. He made a neat cherry stand, fixed clocks and went fishing. He carved his own yardsticks and sold them. He fitted windows, mended locks and fixed compasses. He hewed timber, surveyed the forest, wrote deeds and shaved shingles. He inspected the town records and audited the books of The Friendship Lodge. He chipped plows, carved gunstocks and built looms. He set gravestones. He ran a bookstore and could make a fine coffin in half a day. He was a member of the state's General Assembly, overseer of the poor, appraiser of property and fellow of the town council. For many years he collected the town taxes...." (from Teach Your Own)

As John pointed out, nobody said to this guy, "Hey, it's time you learned to raise a house, so we're going to put a house up to teach you that, ok?"

People needed things done, and people learned from each other how to do these things. They were not learned as "exercises".

Of course, I can see the value in deliberately exposing them to things that might not be critical to their daily life at any given moment, but the POINT is that many of us have become accustomed to thinking about education the way most of us think about physical exercise - that it's an artificial thingie somehow divorced from our actual life.

We don't stay fit by plowing and planting our fields anymore, so we go and run on a silly little machine for an hour.

I want my kids to plow and plant their fields.

Thanks, John.

HW

Wood and Cloth Playthings, Anyone?

Further to a comment left recently by a mysterious Spanish gentleman regarding his classroom use of asbestos modeling material as a child, we received this little gem today from our favourite Environmental Informer:

"Our federal government just approved the use of Crocidolite Asbestos in “ a product that is used by a child in learning or play” as long as it does not become airbound and is labelled. How many such toys will get stepped on broken and crushed etc.? Watch those labels parents.

Anything to keep Quebec and their asbestos mines in Canada and exporting to developing countries products we cannot use here."

--Island Sarah

The Never Ending Story

Over the last month or so, Scooby has greatly intensified a form of play we refer to as "Story-robics".

This involves a strange and fascinating combination of animated storytelling, dancing, and general thundering around.

Since discovering Hans Christian Anderson, much of this storytelling involves Scooby as a Mermaid or as The Little Match Girl.

We will call her for lunch, only to find she has frozen to death in bare feet clutching a small handful of burnt matches and cannot be roused unless we pretend to be Grandmother.

We will say "Hi sweetie!" upon entering a room, only to discover she is Visiting the Sea Witch and cannot speak to us because her Silver Voice has just been taken.

These stories can go on for days at a time, and Scooby will morph from Mermaid to Lion to Ice Queen, sometimes following the stories, more often elaborating upon them and making up her own.

One cannot do a load of laundry without tripping over a nest of Lion Cubs or Baby Mermaids and enraging their protective Mother who we imagined was immersed in a jigsaw puzzle.

It's just plain fascinating to observe. It's so spontaneous and relentless it makes me wonder if this is another phase of Language Acquisition and Development that is seldom mentioned - over time her storytelling skills have grown and changed, the plots become more complex and "finished", the conclusions (when there ARE conclusions) more satisfying.

Neat.

HW