Avonlea Academy - Homeschool Blogger

Weekly Wrap-up

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:46:00 -0600

From the Heart:

God has been working on me to develop a Rule of Life, as it's called. This is just a flexible rhythm of spiritual disciplines that will guide me in my life. So far, it's slow-going on figuring out what God wants me to do when, but I'm getting there.

On the Homefront:

Sarah continues to impress me with her musical ability. I taught her "Jingle Bells" the other day, and she already had it memorized by the next day. The same for "Away in the Manger."

Craig has been hunting; he went pheasant hunting the other day and shot 4, I think.

Katie is dying to go see New Moon.

Thursday was my birthday. It was a nice, quiet day. Today I walked a 4-mile fundraiser walk for the Kettering FOP Association.

In the School Room:

We breezed through this week, condensing 5 days into 3, while moving into next week's assignments. George Washington was an awesome guy; Thomas Jefferson wasn't too shabby either. John Adams seems like kind of a dud. It's cool that Dolley Madison had the presence of mind to save some stuff from the White House before the British burned it down. The girl in A Gathering of Days made peace with her new step-mother and began to move on from the death of her friend, Cassie. Gilbert Stuart painted several portraits of Washington. Bird migration is interesting and a little mysterious, and energy comes in different forms.

In the Literary Scene:

I am still reading the book on spiritual rhythms, and I started reading The Red-Haired Girl from the Bog, a non-fiction book about Ireland. I like it very well so far.

A Simple Woman's Daybook

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 18:35:00 -0600

Now for my daybook…. To participate in the meme is simple. All you do is answer the bolded questions with your own answers and then link yourself at the Simple Woman’s blog each week. You’re always welcome to check out the other ladies’ Daybooks who participated. This is a very sweet homekeeping meme that I’d encourage you to do as well.

For Today…November 13, 2009 at 7:33pm

Outside my Window…darkness now but earlier today it was another pretty, warm and sunny day. Most of the trees have lost their leaves now but a few are still hanging on here and there.

I am thinking…that I do not want to go anywhere tomorrow.

From the learning rooms…the U.S. now has a Constitution, bird feathers are more interesting than you may realize, Robert Frost didn't make us giggle this time by using the word "retard," Woods painted "American Gothic" as well as "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere," momentum is the product of the mass and velocity of an object, and Benedict Arnold was a metrosexual putz.

I am thankful for…good health and a pretty day.

From the kitchen…nothing. I may make some tea soon.

I am wearing…blue exercise pants and a sweatshirt--I'm in for the night.

I am reading…Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation by Ruth Haley Barton and a historical romance novel (which is out of character for me). I just finished up The Dark Reaches by Kristin Landon (a longtime messageboard friend), third in her sci-fi series.

I am hoping… that we don't get the flu--either H1N1 or seasonal.

I am creating…a publicity graphic for the Christmas musical, a cross-stitch for Craig, Christmas presents for people (can't say what!), etc.

I am hearing... the girls on the computer playing a Nancy Drew game.

Around the house… laundry to do but otherwise not too bad. I'm thinking about the fact that we're planning to move in a few months and trying not to panic.

One of my favorite things… a quiet day at home!

I am praying for... good health and wisdom on some decisions I need to make to help me get my spiritual life in order.

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week…not sure about tomorrow (may stay home all day), church on Sunday.

I accomplished since last week…organized the Operation Christmas Child shoe box sorting, did schoolwork, unclogged vacuum cleaner, etc.

Here is a picture thought I am sharing with you:

That's how I'm feeling today.

Fall Updates

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 22:22:00 -0500

It's been quite a while since I wrote here, but that last entry was long enough for two months, at least!

Schooling is going well. I'm surprised but pleased about that. We all seem to be enjoying Sonlight stuff. Our first book Peace Child was brutal and pretty gross in parts; I did some editing on the fly while reading aloud. But it was a great message of how God has instilled his truths in all people groups. We really liked Stink Alley. I chose to skip The Landing of the Pilgrims. No offense, but we read something quite similar to it last year. Amos Fortune, Free Man was also good, but I did get choked up several times. Indian Captive: The Story of Mary Jemison is also very good. I completely lost it a couple of times in the beginning of that one. This book doesn't tell it clearly, but the Indians did kill the rest of her family. She knew this because they wore her families' scalps in front of her. Her mom's last words to her were heart-breaking!

Anyway, Sonlight's schedule is ambitious, as always. I have decided to just cut things out if I want to. Mostly that means we won't necessarily read both books for a given subject. And I don't really see the point of reading the entire sermon of Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. The highlights are sufficient! (And, truthfully, the whole thing is pretty darn depressing!) None of us is a Civil War buff, so I'll have Katie read The Red Badge of Courage on her own, but we won't also read The Slopes of War. We just studied Lewis & Clark last year, so we'll skip the book about Sacagawea. And I just can't abide reading Tom Sawyer out loud, so I think we'll watch the movie! (Plus, I think that will avoid the "n" word. I hope!)

So, between books we've already read, topics we've already read good books about, and books I'm just saying "no" to (for various reasons), I think we've made the schedule more manageable.

Honestly, the only place we're sort of falling behind in is science, of all things! Katie is studying physical science, and, let's be honest here, physical science is pretty darn BORING compared to fun science like biology or chemistry. But I've got to get back on track with that.

Anyway, yesterday, we took a break simply because we needed to get out and enjoy the beautiful fall weather while we have it. We went to Glen Helen and had a great time!

Gorgeous woodland scene!

Sarah, a sycamore leaf, and a woolly bear

Katie and Sarah and my parents

Looking over the railing with Grandpa

Pretty falls

Pretty girls!

Caswell Beach 2009

Sun, 30 Aug 2009 13:36:00 -0500

Friday & Saturday

How can 3.5 hours seem longer than 8.5? When you're bursting at the seams to get to your destination! We left Friday morning around 11:30am by the time we got lunch and everything, and we drove to Mebane, North Carolina where we had reserved a hotel room for the night. Craig and the girls went swimming in the nice outdoor pool while I walked on the treadmill (in my flip-flops) in the exercise room. We spent a restless night before setting off again in the morning to finish our journey to the ocean.

We drove into Oak Island without glimpsing the ocean. We drove to our condos, still without seeing the ocean. There are large dunes between the condos and the sea. Finally we decided to see if we could check in early. Thankfully, we could! So we set off for our condo.

As Craig pulled into the parking place under the condos, we all raced out of the car to see who could get upstairs first. Like little children, we pushed past each other, all trying to be the first to see the ocean. And it was awesome!

Hurricane Bill had flirted with the idea of coming ashore in the Carolinas and wreaking whatever damage he could, but, at the last minute, he veered off into the Atlantic, where he has stayed. We missed the worst of him, by far, but we can still feel his effects here. The surf is very high, with 10 foot waves crashing onto the beach. There is a dangerous rip current, so we are pretty much staying out of the water. But the sea is magnificent even in its unsettled moods.

Our balcony is right next to the top of the dunes, and we look through yaupon trees (a type of holly) to see the beach. The boardwalk to the beach is just a short walk away, and right in front of our condo, on the beach, is a turtle's nest. We are wondering if we might get to see them hatch while we're here!

The beach is lovely, mostly empty and clean. This is what I wanted—peace and quiet, lovely views, wild ocean.

We got to the beach as quickly as possible yesterday afternoon. Although it was hot and humid elsewhere, on the beach it felt wonderful. The gulls soared around us; the pelicans seemed to glide right out of prehistoric times, looking for all the world like miniature pterodactyls. We laughed at the little sandpiper that scooted across the sand on tiny legs that were a blur, darting in and out of the rough surf.

We dug for clams, spotting the burbling holes left behind after the waves went out. Once we dug one up, we'd wait and watch to see him cautiously open his shell, stick out his foot, and begin burrowing down into the sand again. He would be gone in an instant, his excurrent siphon spitting at us as he went.

Early in the evening, we went back down to the beach, using my booklight as our guide. Right away we spotted a very large ghost crab who stared at us for a long time before zooming off sideways into the darkness. One blink, and he was gone. We found a giant cricket and checked on the turtle nests. The light from the lighthouse flashed over us again and again, but we also saw flashes of lightning on the far-off horizon. The wild waves crashed loudly in our ears, and we waded cautiously into the new pools created from the incoming tide.

Later, I went down to the beach alone to check the nests one more time and to see the stars. That night, even with the windows and doors closed, the loud roar of the ocean was a wild thing outside, and it made me feel small and vulnerable.

Sunday

Sunday dawned grey and moody, after a night of lightning and heavy rain. Soon though, the clouds burned away and the sun came out. The surf was still rough but seemed less than yesterday. I had thought about going to an outdoor service but decided to sleep in and rest. I commune best with God through nature, so I expect He and I will be doing a lot of communing this week.

The day ended up hot, sunny, and humid. We drove to a local bait shop and bought the stuff to go crabbing—chicken necks, twine, and crab net. Then we drove to a small park on an inlet off the intracoastal waterway. Standing on the pier in the brutal sunshine wasn't too fun, but pulling up crabs was! It wasn't long before Sarah pulled up a huge blue crab. Craig soon pulled up a tiny blue crab that slipped out of the net. They didn't get too many more than that, and Katie and I dodged the laughing gulls that circled around us hoping for a piece of chicken neck or some bait from the people fishing next to us. It was a family of gulls, with bold juveniles and a scolding adult.

We couldn't stand the heat for long, so we left sooner than Craig wanted. We drove to the Oak Island Nature Center. It was a nice park area, and I regretted not getting up for the church service. (It was held there that morning.) We had a pleasant time visiting the nature center where John the naturalist filled us in on the wildlife in the center. Several of the animals were rehabilitated wildlife, including the boat-tailed grackle who had been found injured, Bob, the blue jay, who was plucked from his nest as a baby and had his eye pecked out by a crow, a young purple martin, and a juvenile cardinal who was rescued, literally, from the jaws of death, i.e., a cat.

We saw the sugar gliders, the chinchilla, the rat, and the giant spider under the nature center who was just an added “bonus.” John was weird in that typical naturalist who spends too much time alone kind of way, but, of course, I liked him. (I could so be that person! Or, er, maybe I already am...) Anyway, I impressed John by answering one of his questions correctly. Was it a question about nature? About birds? No. He asked, “What's the world's most perfect food?” (He asked this in relation to something he was about to feed to Miss Lucy, the rat.) I jokingly said, “Blueberries.” Why? I have no idea, other than I know how much Mickey likes them! But he about fell over; he was getting part of a blueberry muffin for the rat. He was so impressed he let Sarah pick out a souvenir.

We left the nature center and headed to the Oak Island Ocean Education Center where John told us we'd find Debbie who could tell us about the turtle nests. We found out the nest by our condo won't hatch till October. Bummer! We all watched a cheesy National Geographic movie about loggerhead sea turtles, but it was informative. Sarah made a pet rock, and then Debbie started asking about school. When we told her we homeschooled, she began gushing about how wonderful that was, what a great thing it was that we were doing, what great parents we were and what great kids we'd have, how some parents just try to drop their kids off at the center and leave. Honestly, she went on and on, and then got tears in her eyes. It was so surprising, but it was very encouraging! I'm used to all kinds of reactions when people find out we homeschool, but this one caught me off guard.

All in all, it was a nice afternoon. We came back to the condo, grabbed some snacks, and then went to the pool. We didn't spend too long at the pool; I came back earlier than the others to start cooking dinner, which required some creative thinking. I planned on baking the chicken, but there were no pans for baking. So I had to cook them on the stovetop, but I didn't have a skillet! Ugh! I ended up cooking them on a griddle and in a large saucepan. I cooked the green beans in a tiny skillet, and made the potatoes in a small saucepan. Fun! All turned out well in the end.

After dinner, we went down to the beach and played in the waves that were rough again. It was so much fun! It was that magical time of the evening when the light is just right—all golden and warm—from the sun that would be setting soon.

Monday

Monday was another laid-back day. Craig and Sarah have been walking in the morning while Katie and I wake up. We went to the pool for a while. I read while they swam. I'm reading a book by Henri Nouwen that is fantastic. God is really speaking to me, just pouring out beauty on me that is healing my heart.

Anyway, we did a little touristy shopping that afternoon, getting some postcards and things for the beach. We also got shaved ice and found the tiny post office. We ate barbecue for dinner and then went down to the beach.

We played in the surf and built sandcastles. It was a bit of a contest. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint), I had a lot of experience building sandcastles in my sandbox as a child. I think mine was the most classically pleasing, but Craig's and Katie's were interesting. It was more a contest to see whose would last the longest against the incoming tide. Katie's was destroyed first. Mine was second, and Craig's was last, although the part that survived on Craig's was the addition I put on. Just saying.

After the beach, we all swam for a bit in the pool and then headed in for the night. We played a card game before heading to bed.

Tuesday

Tuesday, we were all a little slow to get moving or motivated and were, possibly, a little grumpy. Craig and the girls eventually went swimming in the pool for a while. I spent my customary time sitting on the balcony, reflecting, reading, ocean-watching, bird-watching, etc. Then I did some cleaning.

In the afternoon, we drove to Southport to get some things at Wal-mart. We ended up going into downtown Southport, visiting the Welcome Center, and then going on a walking tour. We went to Waterfront Park, where we watched the river traffic entering the Cape Fear River. There was a memorial to the crew of a ship that was torpedoed there by the Germans during WWII. (Who knew?) And we saw the Garrison House that was the leftover from Ft. Johnston built by the British in 1745. I think it was important during the Civil War, too. (So we hit WWII, the Revolutionary War, and the Civil War in one trip! Nearby Ft. Caswell was involved in the Civil War, as well. Evidently, it was taken captive before Ft. Sumter was, but the guy in charge ordered it given back. If you can't tell, I'm not much of a war buff.)

We also saw the Indian Trail Tree which is a very old (800 years!) live oak tree. The story is that the Indians who lived in the area bent the tree as a sapling to serve as a trail marker.

We did a bit of shopping in Southport, as well, which is charming and reminds me of Waynesville, with all of its antique shops. Sarah and I got two old milk bottles, and we got a small souvenir for my mom. We finished our Southport visit with a great dinner at the Fishy Fishy Cafe; we ate outside on the dock, overlooking the waterway toward Caswell Beach.

To end the night, we spent some time on the beach, wading in the surf, digging up clams, looking for crabs, and collecting seashells. It was a gorgeous sunset and a beautiful, warm night.

Wednesday

On Wednesday morning, Craig and Sarah went crabbing again. They had a good time, with Sarah catching some very large crabs and even some shrimp. After lunch, we went on a tour of the Caswell Beach Lighthouse. Of course, I thought it was interesting; I'm not sure about the others.

Let's see...some facts about the lighthouse. It has the second brightest light in the world; it was designed by an expert silo builder (and you can tell). It was poured as one continuous cement pour, 4 feet at a time, to a height of 169 feet (or something like that). The three colors—white, grey, and dark brown—were directly put into the cement. (IOW, it's not painted on.) The glass top of the lighthouse was flown into place by Marine helicopters in 1958.

Anyway, we climbed the first flight of steps inside the lighthouse. There we could see the inner workings, including the network of ship's ladders that rose to the tip-top, where the lights and mirrors rotated around in a never-ending pattern of 4 flashes in 10 seconds. (I learned that each lighthouse in a given area—a large given area, like from Florida to North Carolina—has a distinct light pattern. It makes perfect sense, of course, but I had never thought about it before.)

From there, we took a tour of the Coast Guard station. This was not something that thrilled Katie, but Sarah was a good sport about it. (It was quite hot outside.) Again, I thought it was interesting. If I had gone into the Armed Forces, I would've picked the Coast Guard. (You know, if I could swim or do any kind of physical exercise, really. Or see more than 3 inches without corrective lenses.)

But, anyway, we stopped torturing the girls after the Coast Guard station, going back to the condo to let them swim in the pool. I made dinner while they were gone and enjoyed some more quiet time. It was back to our pattern of pool --> dinner --> beach. On the beach that evening, we all worked together to build a fairly impressive sandcastle. It was fun!

Then we went for ice cream, which was good and fun. (I got a chocolate yogurt milkshake with hazelnut flavor. I'm trying to behave with my food intake. Anyway, it was really good.) We took our treats to the pier and walked out into the darkness, dizzingly high above the black ocean. It was very cool! The moonlight on the water was amazingly beautiful. We took a short stroll on the beach next to the pier; we had seen a cat on the sand, but he ran as soon as we got close. But we did get to see a large ghost crab who was munching on the remains of a large, gutted fish that had obviously been tossed over the pier.

Thursday

Thursday morning, Craig and Sarah went for a walk on the beach again. We are all having a hard time deciding when to start our day and deciding what to do. Finally, I suggested that we drive to Southport, catch the ferry to Fort Fisher on Pleasure Island (not making that up), and visit the Civil War fort. So we finally got ourselves in gear and headed out. I checked the ferry schedule. The next ferry left at 1pm; it was 12:40, and we were still in Oak Island. So it was a bit of a race to find where we needed to go and make the ferry. We paid our toll and got into line at 12:55pm.

I've always loved ferry rides, probably because I associate them with going to Kelley's Island in Lake Erie. I love the sound of the car on the ramp, and I like the feel of the boat under my feet. I like to watch the water rushing by. Katie was too young to remember the last time she took the ferry to Kelley's Island. (She was a baby.) And Sarah has never been on a ferry. (The boat at Disney World does not count.) This ferry ride came complete with laughing gulls and grackles who obviously knew the game—that is, people equal food. It was a little scary, actually, to stand up on the top deck with all of the birds wheeling through the air above you. I kept expecting to get splatted with gull poop at any moment. Somehow, we avoided disaster.

It was an enjoyable ride through the Intracoastal Waterway/Cape Fear River. Once we disembarked, we drove to Fort Fisher. Whew. It was really hot today! We walked around the visitors' center, listened to the narrator talk about the major battle fought there during the Civil War while we watched the red, white, and blue lights flash on and off on the giant model of the fort and surrounding island and sea. Later, we quickly walked the outdoor trail. Despite the intense heat and humidity, it was an interesting walk. Off in the distance, we could see two giant cranes for unloading ship cargo, the nuclear power plant, as well as some lovely natural features, including wetlands and a crowd of egrets and herons. We also saw a bunch of tiny crabs in the dry mudflats beneath the fort walls.

I think we saw Katie have a small amount of fun when we climbed to the top of the fortress wall and climbed on top of the cannon. Overall, it was interesting. I'm not sure I'd say that it was fun. I don't know. I feel weird saying a place like that is “fun” when thousands of men died there (4000 to be more exact). It was definitely interesting, though, especially for us Ohioans who don't really have these types of Civil War battlegrounds or sites to visit. This was a war fought mostly in the South, and its history seems closer somehow to the Southerners.

We tossed around the idea of visiting the aquarium which is close by, but we opted to catch the 3pm ferry and head back to Southport. After a short stop at a shop in Southport, we drove back to the condo, and I took the girls to the pool while Craig cooked dinner. Again, after dinner, we went down to the beach. I collected shells (and trash); we all waded. Craig and Katie did some wave riding, and Sarah built sandcastles. Later, we buried Craig in the sand. I stayed behind on the beach while they went to the pool.

It was a great night on the beach. The sky was a pearly grey that perfectly mirrored the ocean below. Sky and sea and sand melded into one. The pelicans were flying low over the waves, occasionally climbing to gain altitude and then turning to dive-bomb into the sea. Terns flew by in a small group. Gulls cried, juveniles chasing after adults. The two sandpipers—one tiny and one large—that have been defying my attempts to positively identify them all week ventured quite close to me, as I was sitting very still. (I think they are a semipalmated and pectoral sandpiper, respectively, but I can't be entirely sure.)

And that was a peaceful way to end a nice day.

Friday

Friday was our last day, really; we chose to spend it at the beach and the pool. Unfortunately, Tropical Storm Danny sort of curtailed our beach and pool plans. We did get a bit of surf time in, but then we could see the storms rolling in.

The rain really wasn't that annoying, though. I walked along the beach for quite a while, till I saw lightning in the distance. I was saying goodbye to the ocean, knowing how much I would miss it and miss this time we had spent here. But lightning tends to cut short sad goodbyes, and, about that time, Craig and the girls got out of the pool. Time to go.

We finished up our souvenir shopping that rainy afternoon, and then drove back to Southport for dinner. This time, we opted to try Loco Jo's, which lived up to its name! I wanted to sit outside because the inside was freezing cold. Well, at the table next to us, we had Southport's local crazy girl. She proceeded to talk to us through most of dinner before wandering off. Perhaps she was the Loco Jo?

Anyway, we went back to the condo for awhile to clean some more before running out for ice cream from Frosty's. (The girls have declared it the best ice cream in Oak Island; this is ignoring the fact that it's the only ice cream they had in Oak Island, excluding the Breyer's half gallons I picked up at Food Lion.) Sarah watched the Wizards of Waverly Place movie while Craig and I cleaned. I won't say that Katie watched the movie, because that might make her seem uncool. But she did sit on the couch in front of the TV.

Part of the deal with the condo was that we had to clean it up before leaving. Personally, I think we left it cleaner than we got it (which was pretty clean). The only thing I couldn't get clean was the ceramic stovetop. We had to supply the cleaning agents in addition to cleaning, but I'll be darned if I'm going to go buy some specialty cleaning thing for ceramic stoves that is expensive and I won't use anywhere else! You know, if you have a specialty item in your condo, then I think you should supply the necessary cleaning agents. Just saying. But if we get dinked for it, then I'll regret it. (And we didn't have internet access, so I couldn't get online to see if there was something else I could use.)

Anyway, we had the most spectacular, fiercest lightning storm last night. It was easily the craziest storm I've ever seen. Lightning bolts were streaking down into the ocean. Some were so close they turned the night pink (and the thunderclap so loud it was deafening). The thunder rolled around us from all directions. With so few structures to bounce off of, it seemed to come from every direction. Some strikes were so bright, you could see the whole ocean lit up and the angry waves uncurling in a long line down the beach. The rain came down in heavy sheets obscuring the large ship anchored on the horizon. (We could normally see its lights—a steady beacon on the dark ocean.)

I could hear others in nearby condos exclaiming over the powerful lightning, too. What a magnificent display of God's power! Nothing makes you feel quite so puny and vulnerable as giant bolts of lightning piercing the black sea. After a time, though, I could see a very unusual sight. Even though it was still raining and storming from my vantage point, I could see the water gleaming off to the west. The moon was shining on the ocean, although the sky was still black and angry from where I stood. It was a powerful way to end the night.

And early to rise this morning with last minute packing and cleaning as we went. We were on the road by 9:45 and are now about 2 hours from home, drafting a semi on a back highway in West Virginia. A beautiful sunset waited for us as we crossed the Ohio River. Almost home!

A Simple Woman's Daybook

Thu, 6 Aug 2009 16:24:00 -0500

For Today…August 6, 2009 at 5:24pm

Outside my Window…a beautiful, sunny day. I'm enjoying the cooler weather, knowing the hot weather will come back soon. The pretty gladioluses (gladioli) Craig got me are outside on the table because they smelled bad (the water in the vase, even after changing it). I've seen the hummingbird a few times today.

I am thinking…that I'm really not sure about the direction my life is going anymore. I'm also wondering what I'm supposed to be doing, since the things I've been doing aren't going well.

From the learning rooms…nothing. We're on summer break.

I am thankful for…good health, a great husband, healthy kids, and a pretty day.

From the kitchen…fresh fruit and veggies.

I am wearing…blue genie pants and a t-shirt. I'm very casual today.

I am reading…Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson.

I am hoping… that I can get everything done that I'm supposed to do.

I am creating…plans for school. It's making me think I'm insane for thinking I can do this.

I am hearing... the water running in the bathroom where Katie has decided to bathe the dog, and iTunes on shuffle (Sting: She's Too Good for Me was the previous song; Coldplay: Yes is on now.)

Around the house… somewhat straightened up and clean except for the school room, which has become a disaster again (not my fault!).

One of my favorite things… time alone--not happening for a while!

I am praying for... wisdom. Some recent things that happened that went directly to some of my biggest insecurities are hard to get over.

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week… more school planning, more cleaning, maybe a Girls' Night Out, prayerwalking on Saturday, and church on Sunday.

I accomplished since last week…survived choir camp, mostly cleared off the stage, made a DVD for camp, made several other DVDs for people for various things, planned music for the rest of the month for church, etc.

Here is a picture thought I am sharing with you:

These are just some of the sympathy cards we've received since Craig's dad passed away. What an encouragement!

Portfolios and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Thu, 23 Jul 2009 21:34:00 -0500

So I finished up the girls' portfolios tonight. I was about 90% done a month or so again, and then things really started going downhill with Craig's dad, ending with his death (a little sooner than we expected). So yeah 2009 is off to a great start! < /sarcasm > I knew when I tried to end my Christmas letter on a positive note ("Here's hoping 2009 is better for all of us!") that the year was doomed. My grandma passed away in May, and my father-in-law died 2 weeks ago.

(Does anyone else hear the distant noise of...what is that? Waves on the beach? Gentle wind rustling palm leaves? Seagulls calling? I might just be having a Legolas moment. In any case, I am hoping the beach is in our near future. We absolutely need a vacation.)

Well, someday I may write an essay in memory of my father-in-law, but it won't be for a long time. My emotions are too mixed and some wounds are better left unexplored (at least publicly anyway). God's going to have to heal this one, because there was no nice, happy ending to this story--with the huge exception that we now have hope that he made his peace with God before he passed away. He certainly didn't make peace with us, but, then again, he couldn't have those last three weeks or so once his mind was gone.

Anyway, too much there, too personal.

Portfolios and homeschooling! That's what I got on here to write about. I kept my usual photo albums for each girl. I'm not sure I got it as up-to-date as it should've been, but then I'm behind on getting pics developed. I try to take pics of the things we do that are outside of the classroom "walls." Sometimes I take pics of the things we do inside the walls, too, especially of projects and the like that would be difficult to lug to Bonny and say, "See what we did?!"

I also print off this blog for each girl. Yes, a lot of this stuff is unrelated specifically to homeschooling, but some of it is relevant. Besides, it's nice to have a hard copy in case this place ever blows up, taking my erudite writing with it. < rolls eyes >

I also made up a list of regularly occurring events and special events for the girls. I added that to a copy of their daily schedules. And then I printed off their lessons by subject, as well as a report card. (Don’t think I’m awesome and diligent for doing this. I usually only do a few marathon sessions of entering stuff in the gradebook program, scrambling at the end to try to remember what the heck we did. I vow to be better this year, since Katie is entering the 9^th grade.)

One thing I like to do, in addition to providing samples of their work for all subjects from the beginning, middle, and end of the year, is to create a visual book list. I search the library’s database (or Amazon) and copy and paste images of the books’ covers into a Word document. It’s more interesting than looking at a text-only book list, in my opinion, and it really doesn’t take me much more time.

Beyond that, I just try to save programs, documents, pictures, flyers, tickets, maps, etc.—anything that gives a glimpse of the different things the girls do. And I save some of their artwork, too.

It still feels like I’m missing a lot this year. Hmmm… Well, it’ll have to be what it is! The assessment is tomorrow morning at Panera. (Mmm! Bonny is a great assessor and wise woman. Bread makes everything better. )

Memories of Grandma

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 10:43:00 -0500

Before the viewing, we drove by the house. Even though I’ve been at Grandma’s house many times as an adult, there’s always that initial moment when I’m startled by how much smaller it seems now than it did when I was a child. It’s actually a normal-sized, 50s-style house on a pretty street bordering the Black River gorge. One side of the street is Elyria; the other side is Sheffield Township, which means it’s long distance to call across the street. I always thought that was so weird as a child. Grandma and her neighbor rigged up an intercom system, so they wouldn’t have to spend money on phone calls. I thought that was smart and clever, especially back in the early 80s. In any case, the houses on the Elyria side border the Black River and supposedly have an enormous cliff drop-off to the river below (about a 100 feet or more). I say “supposedly” because no one would ever let me go over there to see for myself.

But Grandma and Grandpa’s large and heavily treed yard, on the Sheffield Township side, bordered a field and abandoned train tracks. Violets bloomed in profusion beneath an enormous tree in the back corner of the yard. If you walked through the hedge, you were in a farmer’s field. I liked to do that—to go from the seclusion of the wooded yard, dark and cool, to the open space of the sunny field, surrounded by tall cornstalks. Coming back into Grandma and Grandpa’s backyard, it had a bit of a secret garden feel to it.

There was no hidden door, of course, but there was a garden. Grandpa always kept a large garden full of vegetables with flowers growing everywhere, too; I loved the tall, purple irises with their sweet, subtle fragrance, and the exuberant pink peonies that lined the driveway in the front yard. The heavy, purple clusters of the wisteria growing on the trellis would brush your head as you walked underneath it.

The flowers at the funeral home were elegant and beautiful. Pink and white roses, mostly. Grandma would have appreciated that very much. She was an elegant lady. I always thought that about her. She dressed well, smelled expensive, and was always reminding me, “A lady doesn’t do that, Mary Beth.” (I liked to whistle. Apparently, ladies don’t whistle. And I climbed trees and played in the dirt. Ladies don’t do those things either.) She taught me about china and silver and the proper way to wash and dry them. She had Waterford crystal and Hummels. She had sparkly diamonds and lustrous pearls, though I don’t believe my grandparents were the least bit rich—just richer than us! And they worked hard for everything they had.

Grandpa worked at Jack Knight Dry Cleaners. Grandma worked in Higbee’s Department Store, selling carpet. That doesn’t necessarily sound glamorous, but Grandma made it glamorous. We would visit her sometimes, in awe of the fine things for sale in Higbee’s. (We shopped at Gold Circle and Hill’s—the Wal-marts of the time.) We would travel up the escalator, my heart always catching in my throat as I tried to find the right time to step onto it, hoping I wouldn’t get snagged and caught. Stepping off always made me nervous, too.

But Grandma would be there in the carpet department, looking regal. My brother and I would be allowed to play (quietly and calmly, mind you) in the giant carpets hanging from the ceiling. It was a forest of rugs, their new smell forever captured in my mind as belonging to Grandma. It was dark and mysterious, between the Orientals.

A few times I got to go with them when Grandma went to measure for carpet. At that time, Grandma didn’t drive, so Grandpa drove her everywhere. I would sit in the front seat while Grandma was inside measuring for carpet, and I’d play with the compass Grandpa had on the dashboard and talk his ear off. Grandpa was a great listener. Later, when I grew up, I discovered that Grandma had measured for carpet in houses all over Ohio. It became our joke. I’d mention somewhere new I’d gone, and then say, “Did you measure for carpet there, Grandma?” Most of the time, she had!

Spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s was a huge treat. Grandpa spoiled me awfully! I loved it! Grandma was less demonstrative, but I think she spoiled me in her own way. I got to sleep in her bed—the pink and white room. It was perfect and neat, orderly and clean. Out of her high window, I could see the sky and the tops of a few trees. Her jewelry sparkled on her dresser, and I loved the little, yellow plaid Scottie dog that served as her doorstop.

Sometimes, during those overnights, Grandma and Grandpa would argue—fiercely! Grandpa would finally grumble and go outside to smoke a cigarette. Grandma was devastated when Grandpa died, so I really do think they loved each other despite the arguments.

We traveled to my beloved Lake Erie before the visitation. Perhaps I was hoping that filling my soul with its beauty would sustain me for the upcoming ordeal of a viewing and funeral. I’ve always used the Lake as a source of comfort and serenity. I would drive out to my favorite beach as a teenager or young adult and walk out to the end of “my” pier to sit and think. Sometimes, I’d be there at night, when all you could see were the lights of far-off Cleveland and the moon spilling across the waves. Of all the things in northern Ohio that I miss, I think the Lake is the one I miss the most. It is my wellspring.

Grandma and Grandpa were both first generation Americans—not at all uncommon in Lorain, Ohio. Its nickname is the “International City” for the number of immigrants who flocked to its steel mills at the beginning of the 20^th century. Grandpa’s parents came over from Germany; Grandma’s parents came over from Hungary.

Grandma used to like to tell this story about her parents. Her parents both grew up in the village of Dusnok on the Pest side of Budapest. When her mother was a little girl of 9, she and some other children were throwing rocks at passing carriages. One young man of 19 stopped, looked directly at her, and said, “Beware, little girl! Someday I will marry you!” Of course, it wouldn’t be a good story if he hadn’t spoken the prophetic truth!

Eventually, that young man, Isteven Hodovan, left for America, in part to escape a cruel stepmother. He worked nights in the steel mills of Lorain. Eva’s grandfather, who often traveled to America to earn money, decided to play matchmaker, and he sent for Eva to come to America, with the assurance that she did not have to marry Isteven if she didn’t want to. Eva Kathleen Bolvari traveled alone, in steerage with the other immigrants, though the other women kept an eye on her to “protect her innocence.” Eva spoke 7 languages and arrived in America on July 14, 1912. She married Isteven one month later; he was 30, and she was almost 20 years old.

Grandma was the second oldest. Though she had two brothers (and a few that died in infancy), I only knew Grandma and her two sisters, Goldie (the oldest) and Eve (the baby of the family). A few years ago, I somehow ended up with Grandma’s diary from when she was a young adult. It was fascinating to read and get to know my Grandma as a normal 19 year-old. She worked hard as a cook at the Smythes’ home on affluent Washington Street in Elyria. She studied to be a secretary. She dated boys. They kissed and made out! She partied with her friends.

Of course, I only knew my Grandma as the wife, mother, and grandmother she became. She married John Lindner in 1939, his ice blue eyes, sandy brown hair, and fair skin in contrast to her black, curly hair, snapping, brown eyes, and light olive skin. My dad was born a little over a year later; my aunt was born five years after that. My dad resembles my grandma while my aunt resembles my grandpa. Appropriately, if a bit oddly, it was my aunt who was named after my grandpa instead of my dad. It suits her, though.

The ladies from the Altar and Rosary Society were at the funeral home when we got there. Grandma had her favorite rosary placed in her hand, one her priest had brought back to her from a pilgrimage to Ireland. When the priest arrived at the viewing, they all settled in to say the rosary for her. My aunt asked me to sit next to her. I had packed my grandpa’s rosary but had forgotten it back at the hotel room; Johnna offered to take the rosary out of Grandma’s hand for me to use. I politely declined. I could recite the words without one anyway.

One of the biggest treats for me as a child was to go to Mass with them. What a deep and lasting impression this has had on my life! I loved everything about Mass. It was so different than my little Southern Baptist church filled with transplants from West Virginia (and a few of us Ohioans)! There was nothing mysterious in my church, no ceremony, no majesty—just straightforward hellfire and ****ation as well as love and grace. Simple. Honest. Emotional. Plain. That was my church. (And I don’t mean to give the impression that it was bad somehow, because it wasn’t. It was just very different.)

My soul, however, thrilled to the majesty and mystery of the Catholic Church. Grandma’s church was a beautiful building, old, with high ceilings and beauty everywhere: statues of Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus, statues of St. Vincent de Paul and other saints I didn’t know at the time. The smells of incense filled my senses, and though I didn’t understand hardly anything that went on, I was fascinated by it. (Perhaps that’s why I was fascinated by it.) Kneel, sit, stand, recite words I didn’t know—I wanted to understand it all. I peppered Grandma with questions: What was the bowl of water by the door for? What was this pull down bench thing for? Why are you holding that pretty necklace thing? Why is the preacher holding up the round, white thing? Why can’t I go up and eat the round thing? What were those little clips on the back of the pew for? (The answer to the last question is profound—it was a clip for hanging up your gloves or mittens!)

I was so glad when my best friend from grade school showed up at the funeral Mass. I had also been so happy to see some of our friends at the visitation the previous evening. When I realized it was Kathy walking toward me outside of the church, I got choked up. I was glad to have her by my side; Craig was a pallbearer and was carrying the white and pink casket up the steps into the church.

I’m sad that my girls didn’t know Grandma when she was still active, working at the church, going on trips, working for the Red Cross, reading to the children at her church’s school. When I asked them what they remember about Grandma, they said “her green carpet” and “the candy bowl she always had filled with candy.” Funny. When my grandma’s neighbor girls told me what they remembered about going to visit her, they said “the green carpet” and “the candy bowl she always had filled with candy.”

I always thought that she had softened up in her older years. She would kiss my girls’ cheeks and love on them. I don’t remember her doing that to me, though I do remember always kissing her (both cheeks, the European way) whenever I visited.

Growing up, the contrast between my dad’s family and my mom’s family was pretty drastic. My mom’s family comes from the South. My dad’s family was very Northern. At Grandma’s, we always had fine china, crystal, silver, wine, and hors d’oeuvres. It was reserved and refined (in my eyes anyway!). Mom’s family was much more relaxed. And I had cousins to play with when we all got together. I had no cousins on my dad’s side. Neither was better than the other—just both very different. However, the one thing they both had in common was good food.

We left from the church with the incense clinging to our clothes. I found its fragrance comforting. The priest had known Grandma and had delivered a lovely eulogy. It was just a short drive to the cemetery. Grandma and Grandpa have a lovely site under some shady trees. The words were short at the graveside. We placed some of the white and pink roses on the casket, some people quietly sobbing. It was beautiful in a morbid sort of way; I thought of St. Thérèse of Lisieux and her roses from heaven.

Her last 5 years or so were very difficult. So often, she’d say that she simply wanted to go “home” to see Johnny and her parents. She told me a dream she had once, of being back in the shop. (She and Grandpa ran an ice cream shop for a while.) The shop was filled with all of her loved ones—her mom, her dad, her brothers, Johnny, and one of her teachers. The teacher walked up to her and held out his hand. “Follow me, Mary.” She began to follow him, up the stairs. Then she woke up. She said to me, “I just wanted to go up the stairs, Mary Beth.” It broke my heart.

Her mind began to drift probably about 10 years ago. She began talking of the little boy in blue who was mischievous and hid in the walls. There were also the little girls who hid behind the curtains and kept her company. In the next breath, she’d be perfectly lucid. It was hard to watch. Which is worse—a deteriorating mind or a deteriorating body?

I remember when my other grandma was dying of cancer—of being torn between not wanting her to die but wanting her to die. Her pain was so great, that I couldn’t stand to see her suffer. Grandma was at that point. I wanted her suffering to end as peacefully as possible, though I was heartbroken to see her go.

More talented writers than I have expounded on death and dying. All I can add to their chorus of voices is an echo that affirms the feeling you experience of losing a piece of your childhood. It’s a strong reminder of your own mortality—a specter that haunts your thoughts. “You’ll be gone someday, too.”

We headed back to the church afterwards. The ladies had prepared a nice meal for us. I looked around at the faces—old neighbors of Grandma’s that I’d probably never see again, family I hadn’t seen in years or even decades. Some relationships were broken, and their pain grated against the rawness of my already hurting heart.

But we went back to my aunt’s after the meal and sat in the sunshine and talked. The kids played in the grass. We admired the flower arrangements and shared stories, moving our chairs as the sun shifted between the trees. It wasn’t a bad metaphor, really. Life is full of shadows, and you just have to keep seeking out the light.

A Simple Woman's Daybook

Mon, 18 May 2009 14:56:00 -0500

For Today…May 18, 2009 at 3:58pm

Outside my Window…a beautiful, sunny day with a pale, blue sky and no clouds. The neon yellow goldfinches are feeding at my thistle feeder. Craig is smoking a pork loin in the smoker, and it smells like a campfire outside. The trees are nearly all in full leaf now, and the backyard is green, with cool, shady spots.

I am thinking…that I do not want to go back to cleaning the schoolroom. I'm taking it a step at a time, but I am not in the mood for it today.

From the learning rooms…we just read about the Opium War and how the British bullied the Chinese till they were basically under British control. Sarah learned about molluscs, and Katie is finishing up learning about geology. We read about Jesus giving Peter an opportunity to affirm Him 3 times after denying Him 3 times and about how Peter was later crucified (upside down). The girl in The Island of the Blue Dolphins just lost her brother to the wild dogs.

I am thankful for…good health and a pretty day. I'm thankful for our terrific new pastor, too!

From the kitchen…Craig is making dinner. I made homemade granola last week.

I am wearing…grey exercise pants and a sweatshirt. I don't have to go anywhere today, so I'm comfy. (Hey, this is the qualifier for whether or not you are still in your PJs--do you have on clean underwear and a bra? If you can answer "yes," then you are dressed for the day. Otherwise, they're still considered PJs.)

I am reading…Niagara by Pierre Berton. I'm still waiting for my copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies to become available from the library.

I am hoping… that I get to write a book with my friend, Kathy!

I am creating…plans for Choir Camp. I have a few ideas for costumes that are making me excited, but I'm not liking the elaborate props involved. I'm hoping to delegate that task out to others.

I am hearing... the dog's nails clicking across the floor, Craig doing stuff in the kitchen, the rhythmic "thump-thump" of my dryer, and the distant sound of my iPod playing in the schoolroom where I'm supposed to be cleaning!

Around the house… piles of stuff to do. I am trying to get rid of stuff but am having a hard time with where to put stuff in the meantime till I can actually get rid of it!

One of my favorite things… seeing the light at the end of the tunnel! Pastor Search Committee stuff is OVER! School is almost over!

I am praying for... Craig's parents. my aunt and my dad, and many others. My grandma passed away on May 7th.

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week…Sarah's tutoring, art class and Zumba, praise band, more tutoring, and our last co-op of the year.

I accomplished since last week…cleared out a huge pile of stuff to give away from the schoolroom, finished making DVDs for people who had requested them, and made it through the visitation and funeral.

Here is a picture thought I am sharing with you:

Mark Lawrence Art

I just love this artist!

Random Springtime Thoughts

Wed, 1 Apr 2009 14:54:00 -0500

This time of year is so hard for homeschooling! I think it's hard for teachers in public and private schools, too (as well as students). Who wants to sit inside and study fractions when you could be outside playing in the sunshine?! (Just ignore the fact that your eyes are itching, you're wheezing and coughing, and your nose is running! It's warm and sunny! Flowers are blooming! Trees are budding! Bushes have tiny, little leaves!)

< twitch, twitch > < has spring overload >

(Us Ohioans often suffer from sunshine deprivation. Sudden and prolonged exposure sometimes leads to springtime dementia.)

And, yes, we could do an outdoor study on botany or go on a nature walk. We do this as often as possible, actually, but there are just other days when you don't want to go to those lengths but you also don't want to be stuck inside either. So, for our sanity, I'm taking breaks here and there. I had two weeks scheduled off starting next week, but I think I'll save one of those weeks and move it to May. We are also allowing for more "field trips" and "non-traditional learning days." Since we homeschool year-round, this works for us.

Anyway, we just finished up a book about Marie Antoinette. (That has sparked an interest in me to continue reading on my own.) The girls enjoyed that, and we've moved on in history to Napolean and then Lewis and Clark. We'll probably pause here for a while so we can read The Captain's Dog which is a book about Lewis and Clark's expedition, from the viewpoint of their dog. It's good so far.

In the midst of this, I'm trying to plan for next year. It's been slow-going because of the whole, looming HIGH SCHOOL issue. Eek! (Let's not think about that right now, okay?)

And just today I got the coolest thing in the mail! A while ago, HSLDA alerted homeschoolers to a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. As long as you agreed to partner with at least one other homeschool family, you could apply for the grant, and the NEH would send you some artwork. Well, of course, I roped Carolyn into it, and then sort of forgot about it. Occasionally, I'd get reminders from them that stuff was coming, but I honestly thought it would be some posters or something.

Well, it is AWESOME! We got 40 poster-sized works of art, ready to hang and thickly laminated. We got a terrific teacher's manual to go along with the artwork as well. I think we have to write some kind of essay at the end, and I have promised to display the artwork as well. The trickiest part will be deciding how to share everything! And I will admit that the fleeting thought crossed my mind not to remind Carolyn that she had signed up with me. I couldn't do that, though. And, anyway, the artwork arrived today as I was heading out the door to spend the morning and afternoon with her. So I was excited to bring it along and look at it all with her. We are both surprised at the quality and are excited to use it!

I wanted to add the link to the NEH site. The initiative is called Picturing America. http://picturingamerica.neh.gov/

Salamander Mating (from 2005)

Mon, 9 Mar 2009 16:50:00 -0500

This was a short story, of sorts, that I wrote of our salamandering experience in 2005. I've omitted parts of it, but you'll still get the gist. The girls and I went the first night with our friend, his kids, and his sister-in-law.

Act I

...And now it’s a short drive to the park….

Arrival at the park. I notice that there are only 2 other cars in the parking lot, which makes me start to wonder.

General chaos, again, as the kids pile out of the cars, fight over boots, whine about not having water bottles, not wanting to put on coats, etc. But it is a beautiful warm spring night, with bright stars pinning back the black velvet of the sky, and the promise of new life floating on the breeze, so I’m doing my best to keep it all together.

To myself, though, I think, “Surely Joshua would be here by now, wouldn’t he?” I begin a frantic search for a flashlight, on the off chance that Joshua is not going to be here for some reason.

Katherine:     Look! I can see the Big Dipper!

Kids:   Where?

Katherine:     There! See?

Sarah: Katherine, did you know that the Big Dipper is just part of a bigger thing, the Big Bear?

I smile, impressed that she remembered this from our science lesson on constellations.

Kids:   Really? Wow.

Jacob: Look at that really big star there!

Me:     It’s pretty, isn’t it? It’s not a star, though. It’s a planet—Saturn, I think.

General oohing and ahhing.

Me:     Do you guys hear the Spring Peepers? That sound is from a bunch of teeny, tiny frogs, each only about as big as a quarter. Do you hear them?

Kids:   No. What is it? Where are they? What do they sound like? I can’t hear anything.

Me:     Well, stop talking. Shhhh. Everybody stop and be quiet. (They start quieting down.) There. Now listen. Do you hear that?

(Just as the chatter dies down and we can actually begin to hear the frog chorus, the silence is interrupted by a loud fart.)

We all burst into giggles.

Michaela: Excuse me!

Me:     (still laughing) Nevermind, let’s go see if Mr. Joshua is waiting for us back at the pavilion.

Traveling down the woodland path toward the pavilion…

Sarah: (grabbing my hand and velcroing herself to my side) Mommy, I’m scared. Turn on the flashlight.

Me:     Honey, I don’t want to turn it on yet. We’re lucky I even found this one in the van, and I don’t know how long the batteries will last. Besides, don’t be scared. Isn’t this cool, to be in the woods at night?

Sarah: No, it’s dark and I’m scared.

Me:     It’s not that dark. You can still see things.

Sarah: I’m still scared.

Me:          (turning all soft and motherly) Oh, well, you need to get over it.

Hope:           (decides to pick up the slack of my less-than-nurturing attitude) Oh, I know guys. We can start singing.

“Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens…”

James and I look at each other (there actually is enough light to see each other). I smile and he smiles, shaking his head. By the way, Hope has no children of her own yet.

                    “…these are a few of my favorite things….”

(I actually think they’re skipping back there, too.)

Me:     Well, here’s the pavilion, and there’s no one here either. Huh.

James: You know, I think that email said that the thing was tomorrow night.

Me:           (dumbfounded) What?!

James: Yeah, I thought it said something about last night, tomorrow night, and Saturday night.

Me:     But not tonight?

James: No.

Me:     (smacks James’ shoulder) Why didn’t you tell me that before we came out here?!

James:           (laughing) I don’t know. I thought you knew.

Me:     No! Oh geez. Now I feel like an idiot.

James: Well, I couldn’t have come tomorrow night or Saturday night anyway.

Me:     Yeah, but you could’ve told me! (Now we’re both laughing.) Fine, well, we’re here and we’re going to go find some salamanders or die trying.

We press onward, despite breaking park rules by being out here after dark. We pass the blackened prairie on our right, the acrid stench of smoke still lingering in the air. I answer a dozen questions about this, before we find ourselves turning off the path to the pond.

Kids:   Is this it? Are we here? Where are the salamanders? I don’t see anything. It’s really loud here! Etc.

Me:     All right. Shh! We’re just going to have to look for them. (Now I’m having to shout above the din of the frogs.) Geez! Can you believe these Spring Peepers?

As we approach the pond, the sound of the frogs is ear splitting, worse than a punk rock concert! Immediately, the kids start complaining. “Ow, this hurts!” “Why are they so loud?” “Where are they? I want to see them.”

It doesn’t take me long to spot the first Spring Peeper. Everyone crowds around, clamoring for a better look. Hope reaches out a hand to grab Jacob, to keep him from tumbling into the pond. James grabs Michaela before she falls into the pond as well; he hoists her up onto his shoulders. Katie pushes Sarah, who pushes her back. “Hey!” “Hey, yourself. You’re in my way.” “Well, I was here first!”

Me:     Stop! (I do the Vulcan death grip on Katie’s shoulder.) Knock it off and look at the frog.

The beam of the flashlight is illuminating the tiny frog as he puffs his throat sac in and out. “Where is he?” “I don’t see him.” “What are we looking at?”

Me:     Right there. Look, he’s right in the middle of the circle of light. He’s tiny. (I jiggle the flashlight a bit, attempting to point him out.) Do you see him?

Silence. Then…

Katherine:            Oh! I see him!

Katie: Me, too! Look at him!

Both:   He’s cuuuute!!!

The younger kids continue their chorus of, “Where? I don’t see him!” But, finally, even they all spot him. I step into the pond, carefully reaching out, trying to grab him. Unbelievably, I do, and we all gather around to study him.

Then the hunt is on! As I search the water for signs of life, I have all of the kids following behind me, pointing out every twig, “Is that something?!”, every underwater plant, “Is that a salamander?”, and, occasionally, an actual lifeform, i.e., a Spring Peeper. I let them each take a turn catching one, and we admire each and every one of them for as long as they stay in someone’s hand. The scenario is pretty much as follows:

“I caught one!”

“Really? Let me see.”

(All gather around frog-catching kid)

“Oh, he’s cute. Look at him.” They all reach out to touch him.

(Frog makes desperate leap for his life.)

“No one move! I think he’s on your boot, __________!”

“Where?” Child starts to lift up foot.

Me:     “No! Don’t move. Let me see if I can find him.”   Operation Frog Rescue commences, target is eventually located, and then removed to safe location.

Repeat scenario.

We eventually circle the pond, my weak flashlight doing its best to pierce the murky water. I notice a patch of light out of the corner of my eye. I think, “What in the world?!” and turn to see Hope—punching buttons on her cell phone.

Me:     What are you doing?

Hope:            What? Huh? Oh, text messaging.

James and I shake our heads and start laughing. Only Hope would be on her cell phone at a time like this.

Another family is at the pond, too, and they seem to be having better luck than we do. Their flashlight has a red filter on it, which cuts through the water better than regular white light. They call out, “Hey! Do you guys want to see a salamander?”

All of us: Yeah!   (And we all rush over to where they are standing. Sure enough, there’s a spotted salamander, still as can be, under the water. We are all duly impressed.)

Me:     Thank you!

(General discussion and the family moves off.)

Eventually, we spot one more salamander, who swims off like a snake under the relative glare of my flashlight. We let the kids explore for a while longer, then decide to call it a night. So that’s all. Two salamanders and a ton of Spring Peepers for all of our troubles, but I’m glad we came anyway.

We slowly walk back to our cars, under the sparkling night sky, with the fading frog chorus behind us and Michaela’s sleepy rendition of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” a counterpoint to our footsteps.

**********************************************

Act II

Setting:

Friday night, actual night of Salamander Program, cold, windy, rainy—very rainy

The rain has almost deterred me, but I decide at the last minute that I really want to go. I know salamanders prefer rainy nights, plus, well, I know I can always learn a lot from Joshua—who will actually be there tonight! So I grab two flashlights (one rigged with a red cellophane filter), extra batteries, gloves, and my dorky birdwatcher hat. This time, as I pull into the parking lot, I can see that there are many people here, including Joshua. I chuckle to myself, ruefully. “You’re such an idiot,” I think.

After taking entirely too long to get my boots laced up, my coat on just right, my raincoat, extra batteries, and hat stuffed into my official volunteer naturalist fanny-pack (which I promptly spill on the ground and have to re-stuff), I finally venture over to the group of people encircling Joshua. He is perched on a large rock in their midst giving an impressive lesson on salamanderdom—the naturalist god on high. I slip quietly behind him, enjoying listening to the questions and comments of the kids and parents.

Kid #1:           We were here last week, and we saw some frogs mating.

Joshua:            Oh, that’s neat.

Kid #1’s brother: Yeah, they were on top of each other! And they were… (His mom reaches out and nervously pulls him back under the umbrella.) “Ha, ha, okay, honey, that’s enough!”

I’m highly amused by this.

Joshua shows everyone his teaching pet, a spotted salamander, just like the ones we are hoping to see tonight. It’s large, about 6-7 inches from nose to tail.

Joshua: I’m hoping that we’ll see these guys tonight. These are spotted salamanders or mole salamanders, and they spend the rest of their year underground. They only come out for mating. One of our volunteers saw over 50 of them out last week, but I don’t know if we’ll see any tonight.

Me:     We saw two when we were out here last night.

Joshua: (Turns around) Last night?

Me:     Yeah, we were out here last night.

Joshua: Mary Beth? Is that you? (He peers through the dark and the rain.)

Me:     Yeah. Hi.

Joshua: You saw two last night?

Me:     Yep. And a ton of Spring Peepers.

Obnoxious Lady in White Coat (OLWC): Are we allowed to come out here on our own at night?

Joshua: Well, no, actually, no one’s allowed to be out here on their own after dark.

OLWC: So we’re not allowed to be out here at night on our own?

Joshua: No, this is the only park that doesn’t have a gate, but, still, no one’s supposed to be here after dark. (And then he goes into a long discussion on why—drug dealers, sex offenders, etc.)

I’m thinking, “Great.” I try to disappear again under my dorky birdwatcher hat and coat hood.

Joshua then goes on to explain the mating process of salamanders. In summary, the male salamanders deposit sperm packets, called spermatophores, in the water. When the females arrive at the pond, the males begin to nudge them. If the female likes the way a particular male nudges her, she will follow him to his spermatophore. She then places the spermatophore inside her cloaca, where internal fertilization occurs. Afterwards, she will lay her eggs in the pond, which can be clearly seen as cloudy masses in the water.

So not much to see for the actual “mating” process, but I’m still hoping to see a ton of salamanders. “I’d better see something, standing out here in the freezing cold with the steady rain soaking through my coat!” I think to myself.

Finally, Joshua says it’s time to leave, and the whole group begins to venture down the path. Joshua is walking next to me now.

Joshua: So you were here last night, huh? (He laughs.) You just admitted to the whole group that you broke the park rules!

Me:     Yeah, you were supposed to cover for me! Say I had special permission or something. (We chuckle.) No, really, I’m sorry. I misread your email and thought the program was last night.

Joshua: Oh, I’m sorry!

Me:     No, don’t you be sorry. I’m the one who can’t read. Anyway, I’m sorry we went out, but I was already here with 5 kids who were dying to see some salamanders. There was another family here, too. I guess neither of us could read.

Joshua: Don’t worry about it. I think it’s funny. Anyway, did you see the tiger salamander?

Me:     No, just two spotteds and a bunch of Spring Peepers, like I said. They were way louder last night than tonight, too.

Joshua: Well, we have a couple of barred owls calling tonight. Maybe we’ll get to hear them….

(General naturalist/naturalist-wannabe conversation follows, which I won’t bore anyone with!)

We reach the pond soon enough, and it’s a mad scramble to find a spot on the slippery banks. I find a Peeper right away, which I catch and show to the people around me who have never seen one before. Someone sees a salamander in the water after a while, but it is too far out for Joshua to reach with the net. More time passes. Another salamander is found, but Joshua can't catch him with the net and we still have no salamander to observe up close and personal.

After being blinded twice by the old man with the fluorescent light, I decide to go off on my own to check out the overflow creek which comes out from behind the pond. I turn on my flashlight, but the mist is thick in its beam. I have to wait for it to clear, but as soon as it does I see a big, fat spotted salamander half-submerged on the rocks.

Me:     Hey! I’ve got one! I’ve got one! (I switch to the red flashlight, in the hopes of not scaring it away by the bright light.)

Old Man with Fluorescent Light (OMFL): Where? Do you have one?

Me:     Yeah, look right there! (I wiggle my flashlight.)

OMFL: (Shines blinding light at salamander) Oh yeah, that’s a big one.

Me:     Turn the light off! You’re going to scare it away. Can you go get Joshua?

OMFL: (Rushes off to find Joshua)

Large crowd soon descends the back bank of the pond, with Joshua in the lead, followed closely by the old man. “We’ve got one over there,” I hear him say to Joshua, and I think, “We?!” but say nothing.

Joshua sees the salamander, who is easily caught in his net, and we all huddle around to admire it by the glow of a dozen flashlights. You know, salamanders are just cute. There is no other way to describe them, with their Elmo-shaped faces and tiny little feet, and I am enjoying watching this little guy (or girl—it’s hard to tell) as he resolutely keeps trying to climb out of the net. He cooperates nicely, though, when everyone wants to take his picture.

In the meantime, a kid sees a large crayfish in the water and tries to catch it, succeeding only in causing it to hide under a big rock. His brother (?) comes up a while later. “There’s a big crayfish in this stream,” he says to me.

Me:     (trying to be friendly) I know. I saw it. It’s really cool. I think it’s under this rock now. (I point to a rock, which is located in an especially deep part of the stream.)

Kid:    Why don’t you try to catch it?

Me:     No, it’s too deep there. The water will go over my boots.

Kid:    You could just reach in and lift up the rock.

Me:     No, I don’t think so. (It really is in a rather inaccessible spot.)

Kid:    Just lean over and lift up the rock.

Me:     (getting annoyed now) That’s okay. I don’t feel like falling in, and I don’t want to get pinched by those claws. (The kid is still looking at me expectantly.) Why don’t you reach in and try to get him?

That puts him off, and he wanders away.

I eventually wander off myself, back up toward the pond. Others are making their way back now as well. On the way, someone sees a crayfish in the grasses by the path. He is rearing up, claws waving wildly in the air, like that crab in Finding Nemo trying to scare off the sea gulls. The obnoxious lady in the white coat pipes up to encourage the boy who found it to pick it up. (It must be her son.)

OLWC: You’ve got to reach around this way. Come on now, don’t be a wuss.

Boy:           (whining) I don’t want to get pinched.

OLWC: Oh, you won’t get pinched. It won’t hurt that much even if you do. Now those hermit crabs down at Hilton Head--they hurt!    Come on, you’ve just got to be quick about it while he has his claws in the front. Like this!

She grabs for it and nearly gets pinched. She tries again and succeeds in grabbing it, but the poor crayfish has a firm grasp on the grasses under its other legs. She starts tugging, but, thankfully, Joshua intervenes and the crayfish is saved from certain dismemberment.

I continue my trek to the pond, with the lady’s piercing voice fading behind me, and soon find another salamander, this time on the path. Several of us enjoy watching it for a while before I decide we need to move it off the path so it can avoid being stepped on. I wet my hand in the pond, and then carefully pick him up. He is the largest salamander I’ve ever held (not that I recommend handling them, mind you), and I swiftly place him in the pond. Definitely cool!

We saw several more after that—about 15 in all. We saw their egg masses as well. We kept up hope for seeing the tiger salamander, but, after an hour outside in the freezing rain, even us diehards were finally ready to head back.

So which night was better? Hmmm, well, the second night was certainly more successful as far as actually seeing some salamanders, but the first night was definitely more entertaining (and chaotic!). I wished that my children had been able to come with me that second night—in spite of the cold, miserable weather. Truthfully, both nights were special….

However, I think sharing the experience with my family and friends was the best—even if we only saw two salamanders.

Besides, we got to break the park rules. That has to count for something, right?