A year ago I thought I'd have to give it all up. I'd already seen my eldest graduate and head off to university, but now it looked like I'd have to release my younger two to the brick-and-mortar schools of our town or some neighbouring city. 

Because I just couldn't do it.

Everything in me was breaking down, from the physical to the emotional. Years of chronic debilitating headaches, steadily getting worse and more frequent, had worn me down to nothing; the culture shock and identity crisis of returning to Canada after four years on the mission field with my family left me floundering much longer than I'd expected. Facing extreme fatigue, inability to concentrate, being bed-ridden with pain three to four days a week, tears pouring down my face constantly - I was no longer able to imagine how I could continue schooling my sons who would be entering grades 9 and 6 in the fall. Panic attacks coursed over me whenever I considered what seemed to be the only way forward. But as things stood, I was not going to be doing them a service by keeping them home, as much as my heart longed to. 

Prayers. Tears. Crying out for help. Long conversations with my Dear Man. Asking God. Pleading with Him to give me the strength and health to continue.

But it was not His direction for me. Not the way I pictured it. Not the way I planned. Because God gave us two paths to follow this year, two routes unlike any I'd expected when I fell at His feet and begged for answers a year ago.

My Little Man, now 14, has entered a brick-and-mortar school in town. And it's okay. I'm not thrilled that he's there, but I'm content that this is how it must be. It's been a learning curve for him and for us, entering the school system after a family absence of 24 years! We're making it work. (And I really need a new 'name' for him, as he's not little anymore!)

And Brown-Eyed Boy, who's 11, almost 12? Through miraculous provision he has been able to continue being home schooled. The miracle of it? I didn't have to sacrifice our philosophy of education and turn to a curriculum that didn't fit who we are in order to continue. We've been gifted with the opportunity to participate in the pilot project for a Charlotte Mason curriculum which has truly been the one thing that allowed me to keep this youngest child of mine at home at least a while longer. It is God's gift. 

The loss I feel over my second child's abrupt and unexpected early departure from our daily school is waning. I see him thriving in many areas that I couldn't have served him. I see him tackling things that are causing him to grow in new ways. Daily I pray for him; daily I reaffirm God's covenant promises to him; daily I trust him to the care of the One Who knows him and loves him more than I do. It's the only way.

At the same time, I'm thankful for this year (dare I hope for 'these years'?) with my third child, for an opportunity to give him the best that I can while I still have the chance. Because I realize now that I might not have him here as long as I originally thought. 

Though I pray it won't be over soon.

I've committed to coming back to PeaceLedge, to exploring once again the writing path that the Lord has used so often to teach me, to heal me, to convict me, and to love me. He is here. He IS "The Place Called Peace". Maybe you'll join me in looking for Him on this precarious edge between safety and vulnerability, between contentment and complacency?

History Comes to Life

Months of studying the early Renaissance has brought us to Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo Buonarotti. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever finish. But then we have days like Thursday and Friday of this week, when my children's enthusiasm for the subject matter spills over, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Reading about all the sculptures and art led to this:

Why do I so often let the opportunity for times like this pass by? I'm thankful that this time I didn't.

The Group of Seven

Have I mentioned before that we have the Best Art Teacher In The World? I have? Well that’s because I believe it’s true. Take a look at this, and see if you agree:

Mrs. Z. introduced the students in our group (aged 5-15) to The Group of Seven, giving a bit of their historical and biographical context. And then, after looking through several collections of paintings by artists from The Group of Seven, each student chose a painting whose style and subject matter they would like to imitate.

They began with pencil contour lines on their canvases, and then used a clear gel medium to give texture to areas of the painting. (The students would be working with acrylics, which dry smooth, and needed to add ‘artificial texture’ to the canvas to reproduce the thick texture and brush strokes of the oil paint used in the originals.)

During the next class, the children worked on the backgrounds of their paintings, mixing colours to match the original. The background paint had to dry before the foreground could be worked on, so that was considered a day’s work.

Next came the painting of the foreground. The colours here were sometimes more vivid, but not always, and the details of the paintings began to appear.

Diligent work (and some not-as-diligent) resulted in paintings to be proud of.

Here are the final results:

Greek Art

Last spring, in our last art class of the 2008-2009 school year, the children worked on Greek vases. They learned about the old and new style of art (black on orange, and orange on black) on pottery and began their studies in preparation for working on an actual vase.

These are some of the pictures from the students in the art class:

Then came the process of transferring the drawing onto the vases. The children worked in pairs or threes, according to family, with an old style illustration and a new on each vase. Detailed pictures were painstakingly produced with tiny brushes, dentist's tools, and black paint.

Working in pairs was awkward at times, because it wasn't possible to tilt the vase to get a better angle without warning the other painter, but the children made it work!

Here you can see some of the intricate work that was produced in the old style.

And here is a new style design done by My Girl (soldier and laurel wreaths):

On the reverse is the old-style painting done by Little Man (two Olympic wrestlers):

And a close up of My Girl's soldier:

After taking two spring classes to work on the vases they were put aside for the summer. When we got back together with our Art/History/Nature Study group in the fall, the second class saw a return to the vases. Many were completed during that last session, but there there are a couple of more details to finish on the vase that The Ones I Love worked on, the border design being the main thing, but the result is beautiful already!

Days

Every day spent with these, The Ones I Love, is a treasure. Even at times of distraction, lack of focus, low motivation, this is where I love to be: with The Ones I Love.

Brown-Eyed Boy doing his 'school jobs'.

My Girl, working on General Science.

Little Man, perfecting his copy-work.

Salt Dough Ancient Greece - Complete!

After being inspired by our friends' completed maps, My Girl pulled out the paints and finished her own.

We are all very pleased with the result!

Here's a link to the first post about the map experience, for those of you who missed it.

Beginning the Cycle

We picked up our milkweed caterpillars on Saturday and brought the little fellows home to their mesh enclosure. I was a little disappointed that this year we were not given a chrysalid, too, but I'm comforting myself with the knowledge that soon we'll see our own caterpillars transform.

Seven caterpillars of various size were in the container we were given. One of them was minuscule! Another was barely bigger than minuscule. The rest ranged in size to nearly fully grown.

Now, four days later, we can only find six in the cage. It seems that one is either very good at hiding or he has already met his demise. I'm going to assume the latter, Mr. Minuscule, and I can't seem to find one that looks small enough to be that him.Already one of the caterpillars is looking ready to pupate. He's huge! But memory is a flawed thing, and it's quite possible that he has one more instar to go through before we have a chrysalid. Time will tell!

And now, some of what we saw at the butterfly conservatory:

The hatching room (I'm sure that there is a more official name for it) was popular as people stood at the window, watching the butterflies emerge from their chrysalids. After hanging for a few minutes, a new butterfly would begin to gently move its wings, and then, with no ado at all, lift off from its perch. More than once we saw a new butterfly take wing and then land seconds later . . . on one of the people watching!

Brown-Eyed Boy wanted desperately for one of the butterflies to land on him, but it didn't happen.

At least not to him:

My Girl's bright bandanna was an attraction for this one!

The butterflies were very active, although there didn't seem to be a lot of them this year.

What we did manage to get a good look at, however, were the birds.