Blog

Posted in Home School, Inspiring, Sayings, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

Babies!

I love babies. Their clean, new innocence makes me want to hold them, smell them, touch them.

I know I am not the only one. Every day, someone wants to chuck a baby’s chin, stroke a baby’s arm, or hold someone else’s baby. In the store, at church, even total strangers smile and want to see the baby or hold their children up so they can see him. Even stodgy, yuppie types give half a smile and nod to the babe-in-arms.

What makes most people give goofy faces and noises to extract a smile back from a baby?

Why—when newborns look basically like little old men—do we croon about how beautiful they are?

And when they get fat and develop a glistening dribble of spit on the lip, why do we exclaim how adorable they are?

I think it’s because we naturally protect. Our nature causes most of us to envelope the innocent and helpless. Some think of the potential lying in that baby carrier and all the life ahead of it. We imagine how confused we must have felt when we were that size. We think of this small bundle as incapable of wrongdoing, worthy of protection and advancement.

Our thoughts mirror those Socrates called for in his dying words, that our children justly deserve our input during their journey to be our rulers.

We naturally call up thoughts like Plato expressed in his Republic, that the beginning is the most important part of any work, for that is when the character is formed.

We echo Aristotle’s Rhetoric where he says pity may well up in those who think we may eventually find some sort of good inside a person.

Even in Homer’s Iliad, we find:

He stretched his arms towards his child, but the boy cried and nestled in his nurse’s bosom, scared at the sight of his father’s armor, and the horsehair plume that nodded fiercely from his helmet. His father and mother laughed to see him, but Hector took the helmet from his head and laid it all gleaming upon the ground. Then he took his darling child, kissed him, and dandled him in his arms…

Greek soldier with red plumed helmet.The thought of a ferocious warrior, removing his armor for a baby, rings true in our hearts. We may not realize we have such bold and universally defended thoughts. However, although written a bazillion years ago, this tender scene resonates with most of us, much as meeting a stranger’s helpless baby in an elevator does.

The fact is that every human with a truthful heart cares about a baby.

We can even say that about dogs: often they sense, they know.

The protection due a baby can alter what we would expect their reactions to be, can surprise us, as does the reaction of a seeming iron-clad soul in a chance meeting with a baby.

All of the above is one good reason not to abort.

And a good reason to homeschool.

Posted in Blessings of Habit, Home School, Homemaking, Inspiring, Sayings, Wisdom, Womanhood

ABC’s OF HOMESCHOOL

Hello, Friends!

This week I must devote entirely to several speaking chores. So I thought you would enjoy viewing the introductions to my presentations. Here they are in their approximate final draft. Enjoy!

RNLI at Boat Race 2012
RNLI at Boat Race 2012 (Photo credit: Annie Mole)

Raising children is like a boat race:

  • You never feel ready
  • You always feel watched
  • It’s hard to change your mind
  • Disasters can happen

Too often, a bad beginning can cause a disastrous ending.

What can we do to ensure we are even in the right boat?

Since we are SO FAR from the shore, what are some boat safety rules?

 A. We can examine our attitudes. Many begin this race badly, with a bad attitude when they board the good ship homeschool.

Sometimes people begin home schooling because of a bad teacher experience. Often these parents are angry and the thrust of their actions is intended as a javelin thrust into some teacher or educational system.

They just want to rock the boat . . . .

We all need to get used to the fact that the State Institutions are failing everywhere. It is not personal. It just is a cosmic failure, such as comes every time we build a cosmic house of cards.

Those who begin for this reason, alone, often stop just as dramatically as they began, when they, for some reason, decide putting their child in a State Institution is not really such a bad idea, after all.

Some parents begin because the child is failing. Whether he is unable to learn, or simply untaught where he is, the parent decides to take the plunge because of embarrassment or natural protective instincts toward the child. This reason also fails the parent quickly, because soon as the child homeschools, he does better.

Amazing!

The parents allow this progress to lull them into a false sense of security. They opt for State Institutionalization for their beloved child, after all, thinking the problems were a false alarm.

They change boats in the middle of the race, and slow the progress of both methods.

The third reason is more stable. These people do not become quitters as easily.

They are the ones who begin because they see the rightness, the necessity of it. They see God’s commands to teach our own children. They see the State Institutions growing constantly more hostile to morality.

They see ketchup as a vegetable and “two mommies” as a norm, or even a goal.

These frightening observations rivet them and they realize homeschooling as a part of being a family,
homeschooling as a part of the decision to have children,
homeschooling even as a part of the decision to marry.

It’s just the natural, normal result, for them, of being alive and desiring to succeed.

And they do.

Enhanced by Zemanta
Posted in Good ol' days, Homemaking, Inspiring, Wisdom, Womanhood

THE MONEY MOM

Hello, Friends!

This week I must devote entirely to several speaking chores. So I thought you would enjoy viewing the introductions to my presentations. Here they are in their approximate final draft. Enjoy!

Managing Your Money

"Sharecropping"
“Sharecropping”

About sixty years ago, two sharecroppers laid their baby boy in a box that was really a dresser drawer, his first cradle. Nursed and blanketed carefully, he was as secure and warm in that box as in the finest crib.

They pumped all water by hand and heated it on a kitchen stove. Dishwater never went to waste. Once that water was hot, it did dishes, the stove, the countertops, the cabinet fronts, the tabletop, the chairs, and last, but not least, it did the floor.

Bathing happened once a week with “washing up” in cold water for other days.

Clothing, being almost all homemade, was divided and washed by use: undies, being all whites, went first, while the water was hot, with colored clothing next, followed by jeans and work clothing, all washed in the same water. Making soap, heating water, and hauling it away took too much time to waste a drop, so when all was done, the water proceeded to the garden, via siphon hose.

The soap was real, homemade, back then and not toxic.

And all had to dry on a line.

The baby boy grew and acquired a little sister. The two children played in the dirt at one end of the rows in a huge bean field, while the dad and mom walked the fields, pulling weeds for their living.

In time, their finances improved and they bought a farm. Almost all food for the next forty years came from the garden. Most was canned or pickled. Seldom was anything thrown away. Scraps went to the chickens. Children who did not like the food offered at the table still had to eat it. And no one got dessert until the plate was clean. The children grew up adaptable to almost any food.

Meanwhile, a city girl grew up only a bit more affluent, dressed in home-made clothing that was washed all in the same water and hung to dry. Climbing trees and building cities in the dust under them, she also had to clean her plate, no matter what, and it was garden food. Scraps went to her chickens, too.

Both families owned only one car, one small black and white T.V., and no computers. Both families mowed their own lawns with reel type mowers. The girls in both families went to bed in curlers and there was no hair dryer in either home, no beater bars on the vacuums, and no A.C.

When visitors came, someone slept on the floor. Soda pop happened once or twice a year.

The children grew up and wanted brand new store-bought clothing, so they got jobs and bought them. Only–the girls did the math and often bought patterns and fabric, instead.

When they went to college, the boy and the girl each recognized something about the other; he, her homemade clothing, and she, his homemade chessboard. They married and made two decisions:

  1. Mom would stay home, and,
  2. Everything would be homemade.

It was a simple step to move to home schooling.

That was about 28 years ago, and the little tree-climbing girl stands before you today to say:

It can be done. Go there.

Posted in Blessings of Habit, Homemaking, Inspiring, Sayings, Wisdom, Womanhood

LET’S DON’T BE TURKEYS!

Hello, Friends!

This week I must devote entirely to several speaking chores. So I thought you would enjoy viewing the introductions to my presentations. Here they are in their approximate final draft. Enjoy!

Disorganization vs. Order

Don't be such a turkey!We lingered over lunch, one day, with dear old friends, while they shared stories of life on their farm. They had owned a crazy bull, and some weird goats, and we enjoyed some great laughs at their antics. The story of the turkey, though, weakened us with laughter to the point of tears.

They say turkeys are stupid. Their turkey was a full-grown tom, and accustomed to life on the farm. It was so accustomed (and so stupid) that they had been able for two whole YEARS to keep it fully contained using only half a fence.

I do NOT mean just the bottom half, but just two adjoining fence panels, just the corner they made.

This poor, stupid creature did not know that it could escape by going past the fence. It had learned that the fence (at one time) was perpetual, like a circle with corners, and that was the only reality it could grasp: the fence never ends, is impossible to escape.

It had worn an L-shaped path in the pasture, walking back and forth from one end of the fence, around the inside corner, to the other end, and back.

Before we laugh too hard, though, we need to look at ourselves a bit.

Many of us resolve to make major changes in our organizational skills. Why do we do that? What is so important about it that it has become such a rut for us that it is a lucrative business?

One thing that motivates each of us, whether we believe it or not, whether we care to admit it or not, is that God has placed the desire inside each of us. Even those who do not know Him have this God-given love for the inviting beauty that comes from being organized.

We know it is true. But it takes so much mental energy to keep everything going, to remember everything, to think every thought necessary for progress . . . Rational thought breaks down. We gripe. And increasing voice volume does NOT increase productivity. We become unpleasant to live with. We retrace steps, going back and forth.

Like that turkey.

When we organize, though, daily chores run smoothly. Adding extra challenges is only slightly challenging. Our thoughts are only of adding a new emphasis or a special touch; of how best to bless someone; of what God wants from us. Instead of scowls of anxiety, we wear smiles of excitement.

Stress taxes our health. It causes illness, accidents, and waste. When we learn to flow more naturally within our daily activities, we add to our health, safety, and even our savings account. We become better stewards of the gifts God has given us.

Let’s go there!

Posted in Believe it or not!, Herbs, Homemaking, Who's the mom here?

Eye Came, Eye Saw, Eye Conquered

I went to the eye doctor a week ago. I’ve had some sort of problem for months and am finding little satisfaction in the medical profession. Also am spending all I have on doctors, and we do have insurance.

At first, I had all the symptoms of glaucoma, except blindness, and all the exacerbating preconditions except heredity. I went to an eye doctor and behold, my eye pressure was okay, but I just needed bifocals. I put on the glasses and three weeks of headaches were gone in three hours.

Then vision changed again, with the things I looked at moving while I looked at them. The venetian blinds were bent, the words I typed were missing letters, my eyes did not focus at the same depth. Weird.

I decided I needed a different doctor, since I now thought I had macular degeneration and the previous doctor had not even tried checking me for that although I am 60 and complained of vision loss and slow and unequal focusing.

We investigated and found—at least a 6-week waiting period for an appointment. But, wonder of wonders, I contracted some kind of infection with red, swollen eyes weeping all day, and itchy. My G.P. was booked, everyone in town having flu, pneumonia, etc. Could I try my optometrist? Grrrr.

Of course, he was available. I had a staph infection of a non-fatal type, and should pitch all my eye makeup, wash my eyes with special towelettes, soak my toothbrush in peroxide, not let anyone drink after me, and use special prescription drops with antibiotics. And steroids. Grrrr.

I did everything he said, religiously, and although the symptoms faded, I felt they never were fully gone. My eyes still itched. Sometimes they were still matted in the morning. Everyone encouraged me to ignore this, because I was so improved.

But the dimness of vision, the eyes playing tricks on me, continued. I was seriously considering visiting the booked-up ophthalmic surgeon, when, wonder of wonders, the infection came back. I knew it: It never did go away.

Only this time, I had a blister on my eyelid. This was getting out of hand. Of course, this was Friday night. No eye doctors available for DAYS. I felt it time to take matters into my own hands.

First, I drained the blister. I could see better immediately after that. Then, I used a Q-Tip soaked in colloidal silver to treat the perimeter of the eye. This gave such instant relief from itching that, coupled with hot compresses, I saw and felt great improvement.

This was my vision, though, that I was nonchalantly treating without any expertise, so I tried for and got a quick appointment: Tuesday, not the six weeks I’d heard about. Hmm.

Oh, I wish I could tell you the good doctor praised me for anything I did. Nope. He also disparaged the first doctor, saying the diagnosis and the medicine were wrong. Okay, so my doctor and I were totally ignorant, but get this: This new doctor then told me that HE DID NOT KNOW what was causing my itching eyes and to USE HOT COMPRESSES. What!

Now I have another appointment, a referral to a big time specialist who can do an ultrasound on my eyes, because it is obvious the vision is not good.

Can you guess what I expect to experience then? I’ll keep you posted . . .

Posted in Blessings of Habit, Homemaking, Recipes, Who's the mom here?, Wives

The A-OK Breakfast – Blueberry Vanilla Spice Zabaglione!

Zabaglione is an Italian dessert that is supposed to be just this side of cooked eggs. I like being sure about such things, so my recipe for it will vary from what the very best cookbooks say. That is okay with me. Cooking just a few seconds longer gives me peace of mind. Let this yummy recipe change your way of thinking about breakfast!

2 eggs
1/4 c. cream
1 serving stevia powder
1/2 t. cinnamon
dash nutmeg
few drops vanilla
1. t. butter
large handful frozen blueberries

Place blueberries in a cereal or soup bowl to be ready.

bowl of berries
Bowl of Berries

Place rest of ingredients except butter into mixing bowl and whip.

ready to mix
Ready to Whip

 Melt butter in small saucepan and pour in egg mix. Cook on medium while constantly stirring with whip, until mixture thickens. Quickly pour over berries in bowl. Serve with beverage of your choice. Enjoy!

finished product
Finished Product
Posted in Inspiring, Scripture, Wisdom

Sunday Scriptures: Red

In honor of the 400th anniversary of the translation of the Bible into English, commissioned by King James of England in 1611, and originally published by Robert Barker, printer to the King, I will use this version for the rest of this year in these posts. Editing sure has changed since then! Hope we can enjoy the quaint differences we find here and appreciate all that went into it.

Come now and let vs reason together, saith the Lord: though your sinnes be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimsin, they shall be as wooll.
If yee be willing and obedient, yee shall eate the good of the land.
But if yee refuse and rebell, yee shal be deuoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.

Isaiah 1:18-20