Pumpkinning

Beautiful fall weather we're having here. Bright sunny skies, and even a bit of warmth. One could almost forget the deep freeze of last winter's polar vortex. But not quite. The wooly bears are predicting a mild winter (if wooly bears could predict, that is, which they can't), and the fairly average fall is suggesting a standard winter, but if there's one thing we've learned, it's that you just can't trust the weather, or anyone or thing that predicts it.

So for now we'll just enjoy this beautiful fall we're having.

Fall weekends

Michigan football on Saturdays

Family biking on Sunday mornings, followed by doughnuts and cider at the mill.

And, on occasion, wildlife in the neighborhood (although that has nothing to do with it being a weekend...at least not with this kind of wildlife)

Still not in school

I realize that recently my blogging has become more of a “where have we been” display throughout the summer months. Jon said last night that it looked a bit like Vladimir Putin Action Man: “here is us in Stratford”, “here we are with ice cream”, “and here in front of Mt. Hood”, etc., etc.

The truth is, it was a crazy, whirlwind of a summer. We were gone more weekends than we were home, and even our longer respites in town were filled with various community activities. It wasn’t planned that way; things just kept coming up, and what started as a summer with two trips planned quickly got a tad out of hand. The last few weeks have been our longest stay at home in months, and they've allowed me at least a little time to try and catch up in the garden and the house, but we have one more trip up our sleeves.

In the past we've been year round schoolers, but this year was a little different. When we first started homeschooling we were aiming for a very unschooling environment, and our summers were little different from our falls, winters, and springs, excepting, of course, for the weather. But in the past few years, as our methods have undergone a slow but decided evolution, have found ourselves more on the side of classical schooling. Now, in the fall, winter, and spring, our mornings are often spent at the kitchen table or a like place, studying or creating together. In the summers we continue to start our days with a little dabble of math and Spanish, but the rest of the day is often spent outside doing one thing or another. I guess you could call the cooler months our classical time, and the warmest months our unschooling time.

The truth being, though, that we still live the life of home learners who find "education" in everything we do.

So this fall, with one more trip still waiting in the wings, we are waiting until October to begin our classical learning months, and we are using the first couple of weeks of September to review a bit, and to plan the months ahead. Rather neatly, Calvin is right at the end of several books—Spanish, math, science, and grammar—meaning that when we get home and pick up classical lessons in October, it will be like a fresh start.

But until then, finishing up, reviewing, previewing, and planning ahead.

Labor Day

Gathering Leaves

I think I've written about this poem before, but it's meaning is more particular now. Part of Calvin's grammar study is memorizing poems. He memorizes one every month of so, per the recommendations of A Well Trained Mind. Or, actually, that is where the original impetus arose, but now we do it because we enjoy poetry...and because of days like this. We spent a good hour outside this afternoon in a weak but warm afternoon sun trying to rake leaves in a blustery wind. And we did it reciting poetry. Mainly Robert Frost, but a little Coleridge and Keats as well. Leaves, and friends, and snowy woods, nightingales and things of beauty. These are the real reasons we memorize, and recite, poetry together.

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and dear
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed, 
And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight, 
And since they grew duller
From contact with Earth,
Next to Nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop, 
And who's to say where
This harvest shall stop?

--Robert Frost