Heavy whiteness blankets the neighbourhood,

Muffles sound.

(Eight more inches fell overnight.)

::

The task of releasing us from the home has returned.

Strong arms and back cooperate to move the barrier that keeps us inside.

(One shovel broke two days ago to be replaced by three new ones.)

::

Groans of an oversized engine sound across the way.

Heavy equipment has come.

Boys race to windows, stand, watch.

Uncertainty hovers.

Excitement?

Disappointment?

Joy is mingled with sadness.

(4 hours for the front end loader and dump trucks to clear away the pile in the parking lot.)

We've had more snow so far this winter than in many previous ones. Above freezing temperatures this afternoon and evening combined with rain have cleared away several inches of height, but much remains. The roads tomorrow might not be safe to travel to visit family, but we'll wait and see. In the meantime we have a quiet evening ahead still, and the anticipation of Christmas morning worship with our church family.

Blessings to all, this Christmas eve. Peace and joy be yours tonight, tomorrow, and in days to come.

Twelve More

Twelve more inches of snow fell overnight. Dear Man was supposed to visit a job site an hour away this morning and has decided to spend time in the office instead...a definite indicator that things are bad out there.

Some photos to back up my story:

The snow has piled up 14 inches against the sliding door that leads from our dining room to the deck.


The same picnic table I showed yesterday, looking even sillier.

This snow is deep!

And pretty.

Keep warm and out of the wind, everyone.

(I hear that my dear ones in BC are experiencing unusually large amounts of snow, too. I hope you are staying cozy, too.)

Pile It On

The Ones I Love have been busy outside. Yesterday they spent 4 hours in the snow pile that gets added on to regularly in the church parking lot across the street. It wasn't too windy, so the time went by quickly. The day before, however, the wind was gusting across the lot, down the street, around the buildings. There was more bundling up that day, and the time outside was much shorter.

::

In this picture, Brown Eyed Boy is showing off the tunnels. There are three holes in the hill: the left and right holes connect in a C shaped tunnel, and the centre hole goes straight back to meet the other one, kind of like a curved E. If you look carefully you'll see Little Man's head popping up at the top left of the pile. He was in one of the vertical digs which they like. They tend to make little nooks in those, to be chairs, etc.

Little Man, proud as can be, at the top of the hill. This is the best playground in town for my children!

My Girl makes valiant efforts to get the tunnels and forts started during the day, but truly, Dear Man does most of the digging. He likes getting out there and doing the 's' word (sweating: ick) and trying different structures. That's the engineer in him coming out, even in his play.

Those pictures were all from a couple of days ago. The ones below were from today. We had a great deal more snow come down over the course of the day, and lots of wind. Together that made for poor enough visibility that our evening worship service was cancelled (the Annual Candle Light Service, sadly), which allowed even more time to play.

::
Today's project was a long horizontal tunnel with a vertical access from the middle of the pile. It was probably over 12 feet long, and as you will see, large enough in diameter that no one had any trouble getting through, including Dear Man.

In this photo, My Girl has just descended from the central access shaft and is about to head out through the long passageway.

Brown Eyed Boy loves the snow, but his effectiveness as a worker is limited. He spends most of his time climbing, playing, trying to dig, and being adorable.

And My Girl can't get enough of this time with her Dad.

The saddest part of all this play is that the tunnels have to be broken in before we head inside for the day. Church personnel have requested that of us, and, as they are being gracious enough to let us play on their property, we oblige. But can you imagine the fun it would be to have the tunnels stay and build a whole network of forts, nooks, tunnels, escape routes...
::

Oh, and then there are the sad days when not only a snow plow shows up at the parking lot, but also a dump truck. That means they're clearing the entire pile away because it's begun to take up too much parking space and there's more snow expected in the near future. Sigh. At least it involves tractors.

Lots of the White Stuff Coming Down (Little Man DID pray for a White Christmas)

The top photo was taken by Little Man late last week. Then we had a couple of days of near zero degrees (Celsius) which turned everything to dense frozen mush. The table top was nearly clear - probably about an inch of ice-like snow was all that was left in that spot. That was what prompted the prayer at breakfast three days ago.



Well, in the past 24 hours we have had enough snow to cover the picnic table even higher than it was in Little Man's photo. There must be almost 18 inches of snow sitting on the table top now!

So, while some of our CM friends are enjoying nature walks and studies of winter weeds, non-flowering plants, and more, here's what we're enjoying:

I'll post about the winter fun that The Ones I Love have been having soon. Until then, stay warm and out of the wind!

Self Education

The philosophical portion of our meeting in January is supposed to be spent discussing 'Self Education'. An intriguing topic for anyone involved in education of any sort.

With perfect timing, Christine has posted an item about Self Education on her blog, The Real Life Home, as part of her Charlotte Mason Basics series on Fridays. You might like to head over to The Real Life Home and have your appetite whetted for the meeting that's to come. As always, Christine is direct, humourous, and engaging, while offering lots of valuable insight into the subject.

Other than this, I'm pretty sure this blog will be quiet until after Christmas, or maybe into the new year, so, on behalf of the entire leadership team:

Blessed Christmas to all.

What Would You Choose?

We live in a smallish house (by North American standards. I've lived in Russia; I know that there are millions of families who live with less space than we have. But that's a whole other conversation.) We love our little house. We love our street. Our neighbours are great. Dear Man's commute to work is mere minutes... But with three growing children, active boys, homeschooling and being in the home all the time, sometimes things feel cramped. So it seems that we are always trying to find ways to maximize the space we have.

Several months ago we had the children go through the playroom with us and each was allowed to choose three toys to keep. The rest were going to go to the local thrift store or, if not suitable for play anymore, to the dump. We guided them through the process carefully, making sure they knew that puzzles and books were not included in their limit, and that a 'toy' was being pretty broadly defined: dolls, for example, would include a couple of dolls, a selection of well-liked doll-clothes and bedding.

We went through the selection time slowly, having one child at a time choose an item (grouping) to keep.

What was the first thing that Little Man chose to set aside on the keep pile?

Not the Lego. Not the wooden train set. Not even his tool bench. No.

It was the homemade cardboard armour. Already a year old, well worn, and much repaired. Made from an empty diaper box, some duct tape, and spray paint. That was what he chose first.

What a precious thing that was to witness.

On Memorization

For anyone who has tried to memorize extended passages, be they Scripture, poetry, Shakespeare, or whatever, it quickly becomes clear that the "say a line over and over until you know it and then add another line" method really doesn't work. Nor does trying to cram it into the mind quickly before being 'tested' on it (as I and so many others I know did for English class and Sunday School); the words are there for the 'test' but fly out the window of the mind as soon as the direct attention to remembering is done.

This fall my children and I worked on memorizing a parable. Sixteen verses of Scripture. Not a huge chunk, by any means, but one of several longer portions that we've done as a family. Our memorization method was simple. I read the passage out loud every morning after breakfast, and again (most days) after lunch. Sometimes I'd read it a couple of times, but mostly just once. When it was quite familiar, I would sometimes pause part way through a line and let them finish the sentence, which they did quite easily, quite naturally, and quite happily. By the end of a month my two eldest children (12 and 6) and I could recite the passage without error. Now, almost 2 months after completing our memorization, we can still do it!

This week there is a new post on the ChildLight USA blog on memorization. Tina Fillmer has written an interesting piece entitled Memorization "Learnt Without Labour". I hope you will take a couple of minutes to read her article. It fit so well with my family's experience this fall that I felt I ought to share the news.

If you're interested, you can read about my family's experiences memorizing the parable by visiting PeaceLedge and clicking on the 'memorization' topic on the left.

New Armour for Our Little Knight

One of the many things my Dear Man and I love about our Little Man is his terrific imagination and his extended engagement in role playing. One of the read alouds that Dear Man did with him was a version of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Little Man was enthralled! He began to find anything he could to allow him to pretend to be a knight: paper towel rolls, old boxes, etc. One day, over a year and a half ago, he used an empty diaper box to fabricate some body armour. My Girl got involved, and together they fashioned a very functional and creative set that allowed him to put it on and off over his head, and hold his sword.


Little Man used this armour daily, completely unconcerned by the pictures and words on the box; he was a knight and there was nothing that would stop him from doing knightly things.


When Dear Man and I saw how committed he was to this armour, we decided to spring for some silver spray paint to make it more knightly. We took the cardboard into the garage, sprayed, allowed it to dry, and out came this:



Little Man was pleased with this improvement. This was armour a knight could shine in!

But there was a slight problem. The armour was difficult to put on and involved bodily contortions that no knight should have to subject himself to. So, My Girl made some alterations and we then had this:

If you look carefully you can see that the chest flap was separated from the rest and fasteners were attached so that it could be put on and off more easily. Truly an improvement, although the helmet was always rather wobbly!

This armour was used almost daily for over a year and a half. It went through several meters of duct tape (which, we are so thankful, was silver and so the repairs were not traumatic). It was used by Brown Eyed Boy, and visiting friends, too, and was the source of hours of entertainment.

In early December our family celebrated St. Nicholas Day. (More about that in another post.) The highlight of the morning for Little Man was opening up a large bundle which held a new helmet and breastplate, and a note indicating that there was more to the surprise in the playroom downstairs. He raced to the basement and found our life-sized stuffed golden retriever puppy sporting a shield and sword. My Girl once again stepped in to assist and got him all decked out in his new equipment.

Little Man has worn this new armour daily since then. He cares for it lovingly, hanging the pieces on hooks in his room at night and carrying them down in the morning.

So here's the valiant knight in his new armour, ready to defend, protect, and attack when necessary:

The Science of Relations

These are the quotes I promised:

We consider that education is the science of relations, or more fully, that education considers what relations are proper to a human being, and in what ways these several relations can best be established; that a human being comes into the world with capacity for many relations; and that we, for our part, have two chief concerns - first, to put him in the way of forming these relations by presenting the right idea at the right time, and by forming the right habit upon the right idea; and, secondly, by not getting in the way and so preventing the establishment of the very relations we seek to form. (p. 64-65)

And this:

Half the teaching one hears and sees is more of less obtrusive. The oral lesson and the lecture, with their accompanying notes, give very little scope for the establishment of relations with great minds and various minds. (p. 65)

And this:

What we are concerned with is the fact that we personally have relations with all that there is in the present, all that there has been in the past, and all that there will be in the future - with all above us and all about us - and that fullness of living, expansion, expression, and serviceableness, for each of us, depend upon how far we apprehend these relationships and how many of them we lay hold of. (p. 185-186)

Not to forget this:

The idea that vivifies teaching in the Parents' Union is that Education is the Science of Relations; by which phrase we mean that children come into the world with a natural 'appetency,' to use Coleridge's word, for, and affinity with, all the material of knowledge; for interest in the heroic past and in the age of myths; for a desire to know about everything that moves and lives, about strange places and strange peoples; for a wish to handle material and to make; a desire to run and ride and row and do whatever the law of gravitation permits. Therefore we do not feel it is lawful in the early days of a child's life to select certain subjects for his education to the exclusion of others; to say he shall not learn Latin, for example, or shall not learn Science; but we endeavour that he shall have relations of pleasure and intimacy established with as many as possible of the interests proper to him; not learning a slight or incomplete smattering about this or that subject, but plunging into vital knowledge, with a great field before him which in all his life he will not be able to explore. In this conception we get that 'touch of emotion' which vivifies knowledge, for it is probable that we feel only as we are brought into our proper vital relations. (p. 222-223)

Charlotte Mason has much to say about the Science of Relations, and how education is achieved through the student developing those relations for him or herself, rather than having the teacher interpret things for the student.

Some day I'll write more of my own thoughts about this, but for now, enjoy Charlotte's words.

All quotations in this post are from School Education by Charlotte M. Mason, volume 3 in her 6 volume series on education, which you can read online.

Smiles and excitement at the dinner table tonight as we talked about the possibility of a visitor in January.

Talked to the potential visitor by phone after dinner. Mentioned the grins. Her reply: "Why, it's even better than a Christmas package."

That is more truth than she realizes.

It's My Party

Last night I attended a meeting of the Whole Hearted Home Educators, a group of women from throughout SW Ontario who meet every six weeks to discuss the principles of education written by Charlotte Mason and ways to implement those principles on our own home schools.

The first portion of the evening was spent talking about Education as the Science of Relations, how it's not really 'how much children know' that matters as 'how many things they care about' because the things they care about are the things they will continue to learn about through life. (I haven't put that nearly as beautifully as Charlotte Mason does, nor as nicely as it was described by several women last night, but I'll see if I can get a terrific quote about the Science of Relations for a future post).

During that discussion, my friend Christine, host of The Real Life Home blog, painted a word picture which I've been mulling over ever since. She described home school (or education in general, as CM saw it) as a party which she is hosting and has invited guests to attend. Her guests include her children/students and the subject areas/books/authors/historical figures which make up the 'content' of the school. It is the role of the hostess at any party to make sure that the guests meet each other, and to ensure that those guests who have like interests are directed toward each other in particular.

I liked the image that brought to my mind's eye - my specially chosen temporary guests (living books of biography, history, literature, poetry, and historical fiction, even math and copywork) each with a wealth of insight to share, stories to tell, friendship to offer to my other guests, those who I have chosen for life; guests circulating through my home, available and ready to offer companionship and confidences; myself making introductions between them, drawing out details from one which will engage the other so that I can move on and make other guests feel at home.

A good hostess doesn't dominate the conversation, interpret one guest's comments for another, interrupt with her own thoughts on topics which her guests are more qualified to speak. She steps aside and lets the guests determine the direction of their relationship on their own. In the same way, a good teacher doesn't get in the way between the living books and the students, but allows the students to interact with the books at their own level of need and interpretation, trusting the Holy Spirit, the Giver of all knowledge and wisdom, to provide the right combination at the right time.

The party isn't about me. It's about my guests, about broad introductions leading to lasting relationships. That is, to me, a lovely parallel picture of a liberal education, the kind of education we are trying to achieve in our home.

I may not have words, but I have pictures. I'll try to get words out to go with them.

Sheltered. Hiding while her mate provides for the family...That's me, too, sweet bird.

Photo from the Spring, when the cardinals returned to nest in the cedar next door.

My mind, and thus my fingers, are burdened by the weight of many thoughts. One on top of the other. No time to delve into them. Little opportunity for extended prayer. Each thought precariously stacked waiting its turn to be pondered.

How do I choose where to start? Which is the one to deal with first?

No answers come to those questions so I put off exploring any of them, fearing that if I take them out of order they will topple around me, crush me.

I hang onto this:

The Lord is my Rock and my Salvation. The Lord is the Keeper of my life. I will fear no evil. The Lord upholds me by His right hand. He will not let my foot slip. The Lord works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed.

His Word, The Word, Life-giving Word is hidden in my heart. When my thoughts are too much for my own words, I can ponder His Words. Thank God.