My laptop computer screen burned out two weeks ago. Consequently, I have had to remote access my computer from my husband's computer in the basement. It's left me limited time for writing, emailing, and blogging, but it has allowed me to gain a different perspective.

Our basement is a disaster! Many, many bags of toys have been dontated. There is still a lot of sorting to be done, but at least the process has begun.

I understand how it got this bad. I'm rarely down there. We call our basement "The Depths" or "The Man Cave" because my husband and boys spend the most time there. So I realized I need to have an active presence in this area of my home!

I gained insight about my husband, too. The lack of organization bothered me in just a few days. No wonder he doesn't feel like the rest of the house is in order! As I discarded way too many broken toys, I realized how disrespected his hard work is in providing for our family. Perhaps my children broke the toys, but I haven't been faithful in making sure they are picked up. I also discovered why his ear phones are so important to him. Hearing the stomping and jumping through the floor boards, I didn't know we were raising elephants!

What's my point? Sometimes a different perspective is needed to see what hasn't been done, to see what one can do about it, to see how someone else views the world. It has made me rethink a few things in my small world. Imagine what can happen in the bigger one!

In our homeschool, we are studying early colonization. We have been reading about those who came to this country because of religious persecution. Most often that persecution occurred when the political (and personal) agendas of the rulers mandated how its citizens could worship. Arguably, our country was also founded by those with profit in mind. No doubt there was abuse against those who lived here before Europeans arrived and those who would be brought to this country against their will and forced to work this land for the wealth of others not themselves. We have fought wars to gain our constitutional freedom for our right to live under our own governance, to establish our own nation, to free those whose rights were ignored, to give land to those who had it stolen. Sometimes we have succeeded, and more often we have failed. But, the goal to maintain our human rights has been behind our drive to fight for not just our country’s freedom, but also the freedoms of other countries.

I learned about this goal while attending public school. My husband also attended public school. Up until this school year, two of our three children attended public school. So why are we home educating? It is not because we desired a solely religious curriculum for our children, although that is a benefit of homeschooling we enjoy. It is not because of political opinions, although we take time to discuss current events with our boys to help them make wise decisions and to be contributing citizens. It is because a system promising to provide the best education for our children failed. We watched our eight-year-old autistic child collapse further and further into self-deprecating behavior because an educator referred to his best effort in a derogatory way. We realized our ten-year-old was being bullied on the playground without any teacher intervention. In both cases, we as parents had to intervene. We wanted public education to work for our children. But, unfortunately, we found that public education isn’t working for every student.

In light of why we chose to homeschool and what we have been studying this week, I am saddened, frustrated, and concerned to hear about the recent court decision in California to make homeschooling in that state illegal without specific credentials. Although my family is not directly affected, I know that rulings like this can cause ramfications in other states. More importantly, this ruling could force many California families doing what is best for their children to send them into a system that may not meet their educational needs. I saw the tear-filled eyes of my oldest son when he heard of this news. I heard him ask “Where is our freedom?” In the coming days, I hope my answer will be our nation’s leaders remembered our country was founded by many seeking a new start and a better way of life for their children. I hope I will never have to tell him “I wish I knew.”

For more information: http://www.hslda.org/hs/state/ca/200803030.asp

Last week I met with one of my book clubs to discuss a favorite classic, Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. I first read this book three or four years ago. It can be somewhat daunting to reread books, especially suspense novels once the "who done it" is revealed. But, there is more to Rebecca than a murder mystery because of its characterization and its setting. There is something about a heroine without a first name. There is something about an austere, melancholy man who woes a nobody-woman into marrying him after a few drives in his car. There is something about an enchanting woman so many admired who dies mysteriously. There is something about a suspicious, grieving maidservant that exhales her chilling words through the page. There is something about Manderley, the beautiful estate of secrets. There is even more to say about the transformation of each character throughout, for all suspense stories should protray characters who are not what they seem. Some may say this book is like so many others, perhaps predictable. Yet, it may be argued that others have been inspired by Du Maurier's plot. But, then again she may have borrowed a few elements from Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. (Incidentally, Jane Eyre was the first classic I read as a child. I read it again recently and rekindled that first love.) Either way, there is something about this story, something timeless, troubling, and delciously thrilling. If you have never read it, do! And read Jane Eyre while you're at it!

To those who have read The Last Time We Were Children, I would greatly appreciate reviews posted on Amazon and GoodReads. I know your positive feedback will encourage others to read my book and inspire me as I work on my current manuscript. Thank you in advance for your comments and support!

From my sweet hubby!

As I suspected, Astonishments is fast becoming one of my favorite books! The last quarter of the book is dog-eared on nearly every page. I especially connect with her spiritual poems. It is a joy to read her progression of faith. Up until the last, she wrote of God as evident by "On the Cross," her last poem written days before her death. The excerpts from The Notebook are also quite profound and allow access into her personal thoughts, struggles, and revelations. I especially like "A Witness to Process" given the approach of another Easter. Her line breaks are critical to the meaning of the poem and make the emphatic that much more powerful. I won't ruin the impact by quoting from it. It is a must-read in its original form.

My youngest on an ice fishing outing with Dad.

My eleven-year-old took these! Except for the last one. :)

My oldest son has been studying changes in ecosystems this week. The definition of "stress" is a good one. "A stress is any physical hazard to life caused by having too much or too little of things needed for life" (Science 5, BJU Press, p. 202). Friday morning, I was reading about how we are created for balance in Debbie Macomber's Knit Together. Much of this chapter focuses on what we need to do to maintain balance, which in turn means avoid stress. My week started out full of stress--mostly created by my own unmet expectations--and ended surprisingly calm. Why? Perhaps because I adapted as do most living things when faced with stress. Perhaps I used my God-given instincts better on Thursday than I did on Monday. Perhaps I realized that survival isn't always a battle but a means of grace. There is something gratifying about work done and done well. No doubt. But, there is something altogether soothing about taking a day away with people we love and enjoying an outing. I have taken my boys to the zoo many times, but I have never enjoyed it more than I did this week. Watching my oldest take pictures. Seeing my boys clap for a leaping dolphin. Letting them have that last treat for the long ride home. Yes, life can be much like a zoo. But, sometimes the best thing is to enjoy it for the visit it is and see it for all its beauty and variety. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough.

I have been reading Astonishments by Anna Kamienska at the suggestion of my mentor Jim Moore (author of Lightning at Dinner). A few of these poems touched specific parts of my life this week. "Small Things" so resonates with my biggest struggle this week: too many things. As she lists all the small things like laundry, sewing, slicing bread, she says "It comes out of toil out of care/out of immense fatigue in the evening/out of a tear wiped away/out of a prayer broken off in mid-word by sleep//It's not from the grand/but from every tiny thing/that grows enormous/as if Someone was building Eternity/as a swallow its nest/out of clumps of moments" Those spoke to the mother's heart within me. As did this line from "Mothers": "Mothers are the light above each head/If they suddenly departed/only empty chairs would be left" In case there are any other mothers out there who feel unappreciated as I do at times, hopefully those words will encourage us otherwise!

There are several more poems, like "A Prayer That Will Be Answered," "Emmaus," "The Empty Places, and "Annunciation," that I love as well. Although I haven't finished the book, I already count it as a favorite!

In studying animals this week, my boys and I learned that the groundhog usually hybernates until March. This gave me new appreciation for poor Punxsutawney Phil, who is most likely rudely awakened annually.

Not to take anything away from Phil, but February 2 holds greater meaning for me. My maternal grandfather was born on February 2, 1922 in the middle of a blizzard in Luck, WI. The last birthday we celebrated with him was in 2002 (02-02-2002). He pass away on July 31, 2002, which he had predicted; he figured he would die from his 10-year cancer bout by August. But, then he was always good at figuring. Perhaps he and Punxsutawney Phil have more in common than I thought. 

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!