September 2008

You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2008.

lessons learned on a homeschool camping trip

September 29, 2008 in homeschooling, out and about | 3 comments

Even cheese-grating can be fun, when you do it with friends.

  • even cheese-grating can be fun, when you do it with friends.
  • a six-year-old can subsist on little more than quesadillas and marshmallows for three days.
  • when a camping coordinator reads the “camping guidelines” aloud during dinner, including the guideline about adults modeling responsible alcohol use, she is bound to have a bottle of beer in her hand.
  • if you tell a group of five to eight-year-olds that they can “fight” with kindling sticks only if they do so in slow motion, they may surprise you by following your instructions.
  • if you tell your twelve-year-old that she must sleep in your family tent, rather than in a tent full of other twelve and thirteen-year-olds, there will be some wrath to deal with at bedtime.
  • you can knit complicated lace patterns while supervising your six-year-old in the Santa Cruz surf.
  • older teens who have spent previous camping trips hiding out in the farthest reaches of campsites may suddenly spend stretches of time alongside the adults, seeming to enjoy themselves.
  • if you put out an expensive hunk of Humboldt Fog truffle-laced goat cheese for your co-chefs to enjoy, an eight-year-old with a sophisticated palate will snarf half the thing down before you notice what is happening.
  • on the other hand, if you leave out a bag of grated jack while making an aforementioned quesadilla, a far-less-sophisticated adult may approach, stick his dirty camping hands into your cheese and do some snarfing of his own.
  • homeschooling mothers outfitted with headlamps will continue knitting long past dark.
  • homeschooling fathers outfitted with guitars and a trumpet, plus one talented 17-year-old with a mandolin, can lead one heck of a hootenanny.
  • if a park ranger approaches on Thursday night to complain about the noise generated by a group of adults talking quietly around a campfire, he will be nowhere to be found on Saturday night during said hootenanny, even considering said trumpet.
  • despite what naysayers may say, eighteen hearts of romaine does not make too much caesar salad for sixty-one hungry campers.
  • you can make a pretty tasty lasagna with a cast iron dutch oven and a bag of briquettes.
  • despite the all the shopping and packing beforehand, and the unpacking and laundering after, the trip will be worth it. And then some.
we *heart* camping

we *heart* camping

“can I do that thing again today?”

September 24, 2008 in books, creativity | 1 comment

That thing is mixing watercolor paints, Theo’s newest fascination. In the lid of the watercolor palette he blends paints, first one color and some water, then a bit of another color, then another. New shades develop with each step, and he studies them all. He quizzes us: “Do you think I made this color with purple and orange, or purple and green?” He did this for a half-hour at a time yesterday, several times; then he woke up this morning and was back at it, first thing.

He’s not mixing paints to paint with, mind you. I asked if he wanted a piece of paper to record the different shades he was developing. No, he did not. He just wants to swirl colors together and watch what happens.

Sometimes he gives his new shades fanciful names. I wish I’d written them down; now I can’t remember even one.

I’ve started reading the book I mentioned in my last post: Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay. It’s a book populated with people throughout history who’ve been enthralled with color, who’ve played with color. So I can read the book and then watch that same enthrallment in action, at my kitchen table. Which is rather delightful. (I remind myself of this as I wipe hands, arms, forehead, table, floor, chair, sink. Our kitchen is looking rather splattered.)

A quote, quoted from the book:

“What did I learn at art school? I learned that art is painting, not painted.” –Harvey Fierstein

I think Theo gets that.

atwitter: september

September 18, 2008 in atwitter, books, creativity, makin' stuff | 6 comments

A few things that have me all worked up right now:

Finished books. I finally got to this one. It’s the tale of Kingsolver’s family’s year-long experiment to grow as much of their own food as possible–and to eat locally-grown food when they couldn’t raise it themselves. Parts of the book preach to the choir if you already eat mostly organically, and you try to be a locavore. Still, their experiment was much more extensive than anything I could ever undertake, which made it an interesting read. And the writing itself often dazzles. This cheese queen especially loved the chapter on cheese-making: I’m inspired to try making mozzarella to go with our garden tomatoes.

The next book in the queue. I resisted this at the MOMA last week, which only forced me to hunt it down elsewhere when I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Doesn’t the subtitle–A Natural History of the Palette–thrill you? Maybe not. Maybe it sounds about as thrilling as an algebra textbook. But if you’re a color junkie like I am, it sounds like rainbow-colored crack. I hope I like it as much as I’m planning to.

My new planner. It’s the Moleskine 18-month planner and notebook, with weekly planning pages on the left, lined pages on the right. Moleskine touts it as the planner for both right and left-brained thinking, and that’s just what I love about it. My old planner was pretty much the Book of Guilt–full of things I had to do, ought to do, failed to do. This one gives offers just as much space for daydreaming, jotting, and ephemera-gluing. This week’s pages show my brainstorming for this blog entry, as well as a pathetic sketch of a romaine leaf from the garden, done in watercolor pencil. I’m trying to sketch nature with Mr. T–it’s not really my thing, but sometimes I’m surprised with what I come up with. (And I do love those watercolor pencils!)

Finished knitting. I’m really happy with this one. It’s Liesl, by Ysolda. It’s a fantastic pattern: quick-to-knit, and the complexity of the finished product belies the pattern’s simplicity. Also, Ysolda gives lots of options for customizing your cardigan. There’s more on my Ravelry page for you Ravelers out there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next project. The most exciting thing about finishing a knitting project–besides getting to wear it–is the thrill of the next one. I’m finally giving in to knitting this: the Coat with Lace Pattern from the Rebecca Special Mohair Issue. If you ever listened to my essay on the podcast Cast On, this is the pattern that tempted me into my knitting obsession. It’s taken me a few years to acquire the gall to believe I can take on a pattern with both lace and coat in its title. 

Links. This one is an article about the benefits of daydreaming. If homeschooling has done nothing else for my kids, it’s certainly encouraged their daydreaming skills! They’re daydream masters, all three. (Although they may have inherited those tendencies from their mother.) Thanks to Melissa at Here in the Bonny Glen for the link.

What has you all atwitter?

queremos a frida

September 12, 2008 in creativity, learning, out and about | 2 comments

 

When I told Lily to smile, she said, “No, I’m Frida” (who never smiled in her self-portraits.)

The other day, Lily, Theo and I went to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the MOMA in San Francisco. If you’re local and you haven’t seen it, it closes on September 28, so vaya!  It’s a big show, with room after room of Kahlo’s work. It’s stunning stuff, and I think all those self-portraits make it compelling for young viewers. (Although there are a handful of disturbing pieces of suicide, murder and miscarriage, with plenty of bloody veins. Mr. T. didn’t seem too bothered by those, although after glancing at one he said, “I don’t want to look at that anymore” and wisely moved on to the next.)

The show was crowded, even on a Tuesday morning. Theo couldn’t see the first painting through the crowd when we entered; when he finally got a glimpse and recognized it as the Luther Burbank portrait we’d seen in this book, he pulled on my hand and called, “Look, Mama, look, there it is!” which drew smiles from several nearby onlookers.

Then he floored me by looking at every single painting in the exhibit. Of course, he bounced and bobbed precariously over the wire that guarded each painting as he talked about what he saw. He recognized Diego Rivera in several paintings, and he talked about what different images might mean and also Kahlo’s use of color. (I can’t believe what he’s learned from that Creativity Express program.) Lily floated around on her own, looking and sketching.

Theo spent a good three minutes studying Moses. This is a mural-like painting, supposedly based on Kahlo’s reading of Sigmund Freud. Theo spotted the guy with the thunderbolts in the upper right corner and said, “Hey, that’s Zeus.” Then he noticed Ra and said, “I think this painting is about gods.” We talked about the painting for another few minutes. Then he said, “I think I’m done here,” and proceeded to act as you would expect a six-year-old in a museum to act, whining about being bored and hungry and wanting to leave right now.

I’ve always been fascinated to watch my kids’ interests unfold. Henry was always captivated by sculpture and three-dimensional models; Lily could sit through a ballet at two. Mr. T seems to have a thing for art, and I’m paying attention. He easily spends an hour each day drawing, a little here, a little there. He doesn’t care much about the product, or having people appreciate what he’s done. For him, it’s all about the process–when he draws he’s in his own world, quietly narrating what he puts to the page.

When he was five, he announced to us over pizza and a big glass of root beer, “Drawing is my life.” Maybe that’s a line to go in the bio at his first gallery show someday. Or maybe it will be something we’ll laugh about, when he turns out to be a car salesman or a stand-up comic.

Another good reason to visit modern art museums: the fantastic photo ops.

A couple of other good Frida books: Frida and Artists in their Time: Frida Kahlo (the second goes into nice depth for older kids.) I never did see the film Frida, but now I’m looking forward to it.

digging (to) china

September 9, 2008 in homeschooling, learning | 7 comments

So Lily and Mr. T want to learn about China. Here’s their brainstorming list:

  • learn to write in Chinese with ink
  • read about Chinese goddesses and myths
  • write a Chinese version of an American Fairy tale (Lon Po Po comes to my mind)
  • learn the history of chopsticks
  • research and prepare Chinese food (”Potstickers!” says Mr. T)
  • learn how to speak some Chinese
  • go to China

That last suggestion was from Mr. T.  I explained that such a trip was probably not in the budget this year.

A few more ideas popped into my head:

  • learn about items invented in China (so many!)
  • raise silkworms (if I can find a mulberry tree closer to home than the one in the botanical garden from which I guiltily stole leaves when we did this years ago)
  • make Chinese kites
  • learn how rice is grown (oooh! I found a great website on growing rice as a houseplant! And my neighbor owns one of the seed supply companies mentioned!)
  • learn how tea is grown
  • learn about religion and spirituality in China

Then Lily came up with the Best Idea Ever. She wants to write a fake blog about traveling in China.

This would be her second fake blog. Not long after starting a real blog, she and her friend thought it would be fun to write a fake one together, based on characters they play in a movie they’ve been filming for two years now. No wait, the blog is supposedly written by the fake actresses who play the characters in the movie they’ve been filming. (Are you following this?) Since the actresses are well-paid movie stars, money is no object. They have purebred dogs, which Lily and her friend researched online, of course. I believe one of them has an emu. And a few weeks ago, the two actresses decided to take a trip around the world.

Lily and her friend spent a lovely summer afternoon at the computer, mapping out their trip. They researched how long flights would take, and searched for “quaint little beach villages” on the western coast of Ireland. (How do two young girls use the internet to find quaint beach villages in western Ireland? I have no idea.) They looked for the ritziest hotel possible in Madrid. Lily insisted I come to the computer to check out her suite at the beach resort where they’ll be staying in the French Riviera. She was so pleased with finding the place, you’d think she’d actually be staying there.

Then they started blogging about their trip.

Anyway, when we started talking about Asia, Lily lit up over the idea of writing an Asia travel blog. Or a fake Asia travel blog. This blog won’t be written by a movie actress, mind you; it will be written in the voice of a more lowly, Average Jane. It’s a brilliant idea, if you think of it.  In addition to lots of writing, Lily will incorporate photos–both hers and ones found on the internet. She’ll link to interesting websites. She’ll do all sorts of research on cities and sites in Asia. She’ll be able to take advantage of all the cool features on Google maps and Google Earth. 

And it will be much cheaper than Mr. T’s suggestion of actually going to China.

Got any good recommendations for a study of China? Do leave a comment!

not school

September 3, 2008 in homeschooling | 3 comments

I’m a traditionalist. I don’t believe in not going to school until after Labor Day. So yesterday that’s just what we did.

You following me?

Most mornings my kids and I work together for a few hours. I refuse to call it “school” or “schoolwork”; on the other hand, the routine of it means we can’t call it “unschooling”. I’d love to call it something creative, like “project time” or “studio”, but instead we’ve come to refer to it, rather generically, as “homeschooling time”.

Through years of vacillating in the midlands that lie between unschooling and school-at-home, one practice of ours has remained consistent: having this routine of working together each day. Sometimes I’ve questioned it: is it too forced, too routine to inspire creative learning? But I’ve learned enough about the practice of artists–and my own practice as a writer–to understand how routine can actually support creativity. The act of showing up, of getting your butt in the writing chair, or your hand around the paintbrush day after day conditions you to find your creative mind fairly quickly. And it seems to work with my kids.

Plus, our time together isn’t all about me expecting them to get something done. It’s also about the kids knowing I’m there for them: to read, to play math games, to take story dictation, to brainstorm a new piece of writing. I do my best not to respond to emails, to talk on the phone, to do laundry, or any other assorted mom-sucking responsibilities.

I’ve missed our time together this summer. Our summer schedule scatters us. All day long I’m interrupted to drive someone to some camp, some swim lesson. And while I try to fit in reading aloud, writing down stories, there never seems to be the luxury of a few open endless hours to, well, work together.

So yesterday we got back to it. 

We made plans. Lily and Theo want to learn about Asia. All year. They want to start with China, then move to India, Japan, then all the others. I love this idea. Last year, homeschooling with Henry became a mad dash to prepare him for high school, since that’s what he wanted to do. We had to abandon the progressive math program which he liked in favor of a traditional geometry textbook. We ended up having to fill in other subjects with textbook learning to satisfy the high school. textbooks=boredom=mom nagging=unhappy kid. Not homeschooling at its finest.

So I’m thrilled not to have a high school or a high school transcript hovering over our shoulders this year. Thrilled to go along with what the kids want to do–with a dash of guidance from me. 

What they wanted to do yesterday: Plan our Asia studies. Lily came up with a a brilliant idea for an Asia project and got started on it. (I’ll write more about those plans in my next post. I do tend to go on…) Theo wanted to read about Ms. Frizzle’s adventures in Imperial China. Lily wanted to discuss her options with math; Theo wanted to dictate yet another story. Lily and I brainstormed activities for our mother-daughter group meeting, which we’re hosting this weekend.

And Mr. T and I finally got around to photographing plants for the 100-Species Challenge.

We took photos of several plants, and researched one today. I’ll update our list soon.

It was a routine day; it was a wonderful day. Sometimes nothing satisfies like getting back into old routines.