The Unfettered Life

For Unschooling Blog Carnival February 2012- Sibling Rivalry; Sibling Love

2012-01-24T23:20:00.000-05:00

Unschooling Blog Carnival logo - so pretty!

This post was written for the Unschooling Blog Carnival

Annalise gets a helping hand - or two- from an invisible brother.

Growing up, I loved my siblings - and I hated them. The constant volatility and frequent parental outbursts of frustrated and furious energy nearly guaranteed that we would respond to each other in similarly reactive ways. The fact that we would be punished, often violently, and nearly always reactively, for those incidents only complicated the issue, and guaranteed that our individual needs to assert ourselves or impose our will upon each other would continue and grow both more common and uglier in nature, as we grew.

New Year's Day 2010

Since there were four children, split between genders, and three bedrooms in our home, no one had their own room. That resulted in there being no physical place in our home or yard that was mine and inviolable. As far as the shared spaces that made up our home - none of us children had the freedom to decide the details that defined those spaces - not even those we slept in. For instance, my sister preferred purple, and I adore blue. Our bedroom walls were pink, our curtains frilly and flowered. There was white wooden furniture, bedding to match the curtains, and a red carpet that always distressed me (My aversion for red is long-standing and not something I really understand. The color is simply off-putting, for me).

All of these things in our room were chosen, not by us, but by our mother - to fit her image of what a girl's room should be. Her reasons had to do with love, because she herself had never had a room filled with new and pretty things. She intended to give us (and by extension, perhaps, the little love-starved girl she had been) her dream...but it wasn't my dream, in those colors, and so I always felt a little like a stranger there, borrowing the space from my mother's fantasy room.

The result was that there was no space that felt safe and embracing, except those which I could create through my own actions These were almost exclusively interior spaces, held in my own mind, where I had some degree of control.

When I was smaller, I discovered reading, and writing, and being in the tub as long as I could possibly mange, imagining and narrating stories in my head. Alone in the tub, or lost in the pages of a book, or in my own mind, there was at least the illusion of distance and safety from the roiling emotions all around me.

When I got a little older, I discovered chores my siblings didn't want to do, and made it my habit to do some of these. Sitting on the ground, pulling dandelions or weeding vegetables, raking, caring for our pets....I had these, and books, and the stories in my head. I began to be allowed to do dishes alone, and I enjoyed that time, my back turned to the energy of the rest of the family, when I needed space - looking out the kitchen window gave me, once again, a degree of space and safety.

In my teens, I discovered the joys of horseback riding, long walks, headphones and my Walkman, and the forbidden delights of exploring my burgeoning sexuality through writing and dreaming......I worked, and had after school activities my siblings didn't share, and, when I graduated, I chose a college two states away.....

Happy Siblings, January 2012

It seems that a tremendous amount of my energy, in childhood, was spent protecting my soul, my body, my ego, my possessions, and even the space around myself from invasion by outside forces - and looming large in the realm of threats were my three siblings.

I don't mean to say that it was intentional, on any of our parts, nor that I was never invading the invisible turf lines my siblings each held. That much was inevitable, given the circumstances of our lives.

Hangin' out on the couch!

I mean to say that we lived far more often in a state of war, or at least, of potential battle, than we did in a state of harmony. We all tended to keep our armor on and our weapons raised as we patrolled what we viewed as our personal territory. Grudges might be held for days or months - our mother supplied excellent examples of how to hang on to perceived slights. We fought, often hand-to-hand and down-and-dirty, to defend what was ours: toys, games, space, attention, place in the heirarchy of family...

I remember a LOT of fighting. In many cases, I remember what the fight was about. I always remember how vital it was that I win, that I make my case, that I prove the other wrong, that I deflect and defeat any attacks.

I felt, then, like I had to fight to survive, and that feeling seemed to be backed up by the constant rivalries actively promoted by our parents.

I thought, growing up, that every family was like this. Certainly, it seemed to be the way most siblings on TV were portrayed, and it was the way most of the families I knew seemed to act, too.

Hirschornn Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution, Washington DC 2009 - ages 7and 4.

On the Washington, DC Metro train. The car was empty; they could have sat anywhere. This is where they chose.

For many years, I thought there was something wrong with me, for being so deeply troubled by it. Certainly, if this was normal and right, and still, it tore me to shreds inside, I was far too sensitive....

Sibling comfort on a very hot day at the National Zoo.

I could not see, then, in my own desperate struggle to retain self and parental love, that my siblings were also hurting, also being damaged by this broken dynamic we all accepted as simply "they way things were." I couldn't see how my parents, and their parents, and theirs, were all also broken by these types of poisonous love.

Now, many years further in my life's journey, I know things I did not know then about the damage abuse can cause, and how invisible and insidious that damage can be, seen from within a broken dynamic. I know how easily it passes from generation to generation, and the supreme effort required in coming from that place to a place of treating children with peace, kindness, and respect. I know why the fighting never felt normal or natural to me, now......

It didn't feel "right", because, in a healthy family dynamic, it wouldn't be.

Christmas morning love!

I know, too, why two of my three siblings and I are not on speaking terms. It's because, for them, the rivalry hasn't ended - ever. They are locked into it, and the pattern is so deep, they may not even see that the rivalry only exists, now, in their own perception of things.

Anything I say or do that they interpret to be a slur against them will be met with brutal retaliation. They learned the lessons we lived by then well, but have not adapted to a world where those lessons are no longer useful. Maybe, they have a worldview that tells them that trust and acceptance of others isn't useful.

Unfortunately, anything I say or do that they don't agree with falls in this category, and there is no point at all in attempting to explain that it isn't, in fact, about them, that my family and I are simply living our lives in a way that fulfills us deeply, and that this happens to be a way of life very different from theirs.

If our family dynamic had been healthy and supportive, during our childhoods, we all would have learned that each of us is different, and totally unique. There would be no reason whatever to expect that four different people, with four different personalities, experiences, talents and weaknesses, would live congruent lives.

They might see, and understand, that I have always been more wild than tame, and that an unschooling life would be just the type of thing to speak to my unfettered and independent, intuitive and creative nature.

Jeremiah and Annalise making merry with Elijah's tree.

They might understand that this has nothing at all to do with their lives, and the choices they have made, which reflect who they are and what they value.

They might see that it is possible to disagree with someone - even passionately and to the core of one's being - and still respect the other's right to their own truth, and to give that truth a voice.

My older brother played the assigned role of the family scapegoat, even before I was born 3.5 years later. I remember some of the cruel things that were done to this fellow human as some of my earliest memories....but those are not my stories to tell, and so I won't say more.

Peaceful television time.

We lead different lives. We are unschoolers; his children have all attended public school, with varying results. He has children ranging in age from 21 to not quite 6. Miah and Lise, at 10 and 7.5, are only 34 months apart, and Elijah was born between.

We live in different types of communities, and have different types of friends, and different pastimes.

Yet, we get along quite well...because we do not impose our judgement of what is valuable in life upon each other. We learn things from each other, and enjoy spending time visiting, and accept that there will always be those areas upon which we cannot agree.

We called a truce on those, a long time ago, and we both honor that truce. We may say difficult things to each other if either of us is compelled to, but, even then,. we understand that our words may not change things.

And we say what we feel we must with love and acceptance that we are not alike at the forefront.

Never have I assumed that he (or either of my other siblings), was living their life with the intention of disrespecting my choices. That seems an inherently damaged attitude.... one that assumes that others live their lives with you at their center, that they choose how to raise their children, what to read, and what to say only based on whether that will make you angry or uncomfortable. Or that they should tailor their lives, their opinions, and what they choose to share of their lives only in ways you approve of.

Horse skull discovery. They spend a lot of time together, even with a whole meadow and forest to explore. Summer 2010, York, PA, ages 8 and 5.

Sunggles and grins!

The reason I know, today, that the sibling experience I had is not the natural order of things, is Jeremiah and Annalise, and the lifetime I have spent living alongside and within their relationship with each other.

Do they fight? Yes, they do. On increasingly rare occasions they will still hit or hurt each other. They are, after all, two young people growing and learning. They are also two passionate and strong-willed people who do not always agree, and who are in the process of learning how to negotiate, see another's perspective,. and when to walk away because agreement is impossible.

Watermelon Fun! Summer 2010

The difference is - they ARE learning these things. They WANT to.

Why?

Happy grape eaters!

A few reasons I can think of are:

They like themselves.
They like each other.
They like their lives.
They both get plenty of individual attention, and time to be together, and time with the family group.
They have as much or as little time alone as they choose each day.
They have their own spaces,
They are in charge of those spaces.
They see their parents learning to negotiate.
They know their side of the story will be heard, if they wish to share it.
They know someone will help them to understand their sibling's viewpoint.
We have made ample spaces in our home for them to be alone or together.
We treat what is important to each of them as important, and help as needed with meeting their goals.
We see them and treat them as individuals, and value what is unique in each of them.
They spend a lot of time together.
Life is better when they are getting along - they are good friends, and being mad hurts.

Invented games on Annalise's bed, on Annalise's 5th birthday.

Growing up, we were ordered into resolving conflicts, and punished for having them.

We were not, however, given any conflict resolution tools. Nor were techniques for negotiating peacefully a part of our lives. When our parents fought, there would be screaming, and slamming doors, and days maybe of my mother hiding in her bedroom, not coming out. That was scary...but not as scary as when they both decided that we had somehow caused it or made things worse.

Birthday fun at the mall...

Neither was there any consistent effort to get to the bottom of the disagreements. to help us to settle them. It did not matter that my sister and I were incompatible on many levels from the time we were small. It didn't matter that we kept asking to be allowed to divide the room with bookcases, a half-wall, or even a curtain. I was cluttered and expansive, and she was neat and linear. We tried to resolve the issue, with a divider, but my mother had the idea that sisters should share a room and get along (despite, or maybe because, she didn't get along well with her own sister...), and, again, her dream restricted our reality.

Together, in the middle of a long couch.

After the races......part of life in Saratoga County!

We were simply expected not to fight. End of story.

When Jeremiah and Annalise argue, we stay near, and attentive. More and more of the time, they don't need us to intervene. When they do, they know that no one will be punished - and that they will get some insight into the other's position. They also know they won't be forced to a resolution, that they have the freedom to walk away, and to consider, and to try again, until a resolution is found. They also know that name-calling, blame, and nastiness don't help.

Lise helped Miah learn her Little Toot choreography.

We remind them, or get between them, on the rare occasion things get too heated. We strive to help without making it our issue,without unnecessary words or fuss and without demanding that they stop fighting. We respect that they both have a truth, and neither perspective is less valid.

This isn't always easy, because we are still learning as we go along, and because children and the tensions within them and between them can change so suddenly.

We make the peace of our family more important than who is right or wrong. Since we all share a conviction that peaceful living is better than living in conflict, they generally are willing to be helped. When someone is not, that is nearly always a sign they need rest or a bit of solitude to recover.

Pillow fun - ages 6 and 3.

We do most of the talking about these things when life is calm. They both take in information better when they don't feel that their turf is being threatened in some way. We talk about choices that help or hurt the peace of our home.

As I write this, it occurs to me that what we're doing, what all peaceful parents do, is making it easier for our children to love one another. We smooth the rough places, over time - not with commands and consequences imposed from outside, but with actual tools they can use to get along better - with each other, with us, with anyone else. We're helping them to learn that their perceptions aren't fact; and might be the opposite of someone else's, and yet, that does not make either of them wrong..

These children have always loved one another. What we've done is let them focus on that love, and not on endless unresolved conflict.We give them the tools and support to have many, many more peaceful and happy moments with each other than dramatic or traumatic ones.

My mother used to dream that my sister and I would grow up and learn to see each other in a way that matched the sister-fantasy she kept in her mind. But she didn't have the tools to give us; the tools that might have helped us to form a mutually respectful friendship, despite the differences in our natures, that could have grown with us into adulthood.

Miah, at 3, and Lise, not yet 1 - so little. Such good friends.

Traffic Jam, ages just 2 and almost 5.

I see my children growing a bond that is stronger and deeper than I imagined a sibling bond could be - and I don't need to build a fantasy around a dream. I get to live it, each and every day - and, as they get older, and learn new and deeper skills for relating with each other, it gets better and better.

And, with every day, I find deeper healing in being witness to this strengthening relationship, knowing that it is theirs, and not mine; and in doing all I can to support that connection, to not interfere too much in it, so that they can carry it with them throughout their lives, in a way that pleases them both.

It makes me happy to know that these same skills they are practicing with each other, now, can be carried forward throughout their lives, into other relationships that I will not witness so closely. They will know, from evolving their sibling love, how to treat others, and how they themselves wish to be treated.

Goofy Christmas Portrait, ages 3 and 6.

What stands out to me, in all these photographs (I really had to narrow it down to these; there are hundreds more just as good!), is that Annalise and Jeremiah choose to spend much of their time together. I remember my own desperate urge to escape my siblings, and how those bonds nearly strangled me, many, many times.

With the freedom to go where they choose, with spaces of their own, and room to be away from one another, they are most often together.

Ages 2 and 5, in fancy duds sent by Gramma Jan in Oregon.

I find it endlessly amazing that something as delightful as the time they spend together is helping them to be capable of forming strong and fulfilling bonds throughout their lifetimes.

Lise recently felt she needed to apologize to Miah . This is how she chose to do it....close-ups below....

"I"

"Am"

Sorry! (exclamation point not shown...)

Happy Valentine's Day, Jeremiah and Annalise. I love you both!

Jeremiah fixed Marshmallow (Koko's baby) the gorilla for Annalise

Close up of eye transplant surgery.

ROW80 - "Leaping Before I Look"

2012-01-16T01:39:00.001-05:00

I've been gearing myself up for it since I decided to do ROW80, and set my goals down on paper.

I was going to need, eventually, to do something I haven't done for over a decade, now.

I need to submit to reach my goals.

And submitting is scary, a leap with only the barest of ideas of how things will end up, a leap of faith in the blind dark......

And I am afraid of falling, of the air rushing past, of gravity controlling rather than supporting me...

I get nauseous, and dizzy, and terrified. I can scuba dive at night, in a cavern, 50 feet deep, and float with Jim's hand in mine, in utter dark....

But the thought of falling off a stepping stone in an ankle deep creek makes me tense, even sitting here, safely, on my bed.

And yet, this week, I did some bona-fide leaping, and a lot of mountain goat scrambling.

I also learned a lot as I went along, and about things I really might not have considered before this challenge, and I'm beginning to see that this ROW80 thing is about more than setting some goals and working toward meeting them.

More about my leaping, scrambling, and learning, after the goals updates.

Before the goals, a slideshow treat of some random moments in our lives....

Round of Words 80 Goals - Round 1, 2012:

I will write at least 10 essays and/ or photo essays, and post them publicly.

Tiny Buddha submission: Rough draft of second version written and revised. Draft sent to Eden Mabee for comments and verification. She sent her comments back quickly; I read them and am letting them percolate for another day or two. There are still a few rough places, but I followed the guidelines for paragraph and essay lengths, so there is actually room for me to add detail or thoughts that seem relevant in the next draft or two. I also thought I might add some of our Buddha pictures, for effect and interest (and so they are also searchable; I'm learning a bit about blog traffic through this process).

Sunday Surf submission "A Tale of Two New Years" : I have what I think is most of a rough draft, with notes for the layout of the many pictures that will go with this reflective post. The photos I plan to use have been edited, although I may need to move some of them around a bit before I can access them for the blog. I'm hoping to start with the pictures tomorrow, then see how they affect the tone of the text. I've also revised the text I have as I feel my way through to the conclusion.

Untitled Cooperative Catalyst submission: I revised this again, twice, after giving it two or three days' rest. I thought I could include some pictures of the kids' art and/or some activity shots that might appeal to educators, and hyperlinks, but need to check with the editor before adding them. I will be drafting that letter sometime before Wednesday, to see where I should go from this point.

Unschooling Bog Carnival submission: This is a newly conceived project that evolved from a conversation on an unschooling group I belong to. The inaugural carnival will be posted in February. The deadline for submissions is January 25, and the topic will be LOVE. I have wanted to write about the close bond my children share, and how it relates to Elijah's life and death. I have many, many wonderful pictures to use, and I can even, maybe, ask the kids to talk about each other a bit. I am very excited to write this post, and might be able to give it to the kids for Valentine's Day - oooh! It just occurred to me that I could use their own art to illustrate it! AWESOME!!!

Photo by Shan Jeniah Burton, aka Mommy.

I will submit at least one essay or photo essay apiece to Tiny Buddha and Sunday Surf.

As mentioned above, both of these submissions are moving along. One or both of them may well be ready for submission (or submitted, already) by Wednesday's check-in, or soon thereafter.

I am breathing through anxiety, and thoroughly enjoying this challenge. I do a little at a time, interspersed with novel writing and blog commenting.

I will complete the rough draft of my unfinished NaNoWriMo novel, Chameleon's Dish.

I'm continuing to use 750words as my Test mile, and to write there daily. Often, this will be my last writing of the day. Since ROW80 began, this has been my only fiction work-in-progress, so it's a nice creative outlet, and I generally fall asleep dreaming dreams that feed the story....Since Wednesday's check-in I have finished chapter 14, and begun a wild and glorious emotional ride in Chapter 15, inspiringly titled "King of Infinite Space". I've gotten 3826 words in, and I am loving this tense outburst of a chapter!

Source Unknown

I've done some research on Star Trek fan fiction, and joined a fan fiction site , where I can submit chapters of my novel, but, -ahem - I will have to save the erotica aspects for my own amusement, and keep the "official" version at "suggestive". It'll be like my own dirty little secret, except I just told you!

I will submit at least four pieces, queries, or proposals to for-pay markets.

I submitted something! An erotic poem, no less, to Clean Sheets. The next day, it came back, rejected......my first email rejection letter, and my first rejection of any kind in over a decade. Yes, it has been that long since I submitted anything.

Photo by Eden Mabee.

I feel like I've broken the ice, there, and now can simply - move forward. I am not sure, just now, whether that means playing with and/or resubmitting it, or moving on to developing other pieces. I will have a better idea by next Sunday's check-in.

I wrote up a bullet list service/item description for my independent writing enterprise, and am preparing to submit the idea to one of my potential markets, The Unschooler's Emporium, in order to learn more of what is involved in online sales.

I will update, keep current on a weekly basis, and add

writing samples to my Facebook Writer Page
(Shan Jeniah Burton, Writer).

I am continuing to add links and updates to the page, and using it as a tool to aid me in researching markets and ideas.

I haven't worked at prettying it up, yet. I discovered TweetDeck, and finally feel I am beginning to get a grasp on what Twitter is useful for, That used up most of my playtime. I will have at least popped a few pictures and/or inspirational phrases up there, by Wednesday.

I have been working my way though the links I have posted there, finding a wealth of useful information. I am, at least sometimes, remembering to refer back to the discoveries later, in order to chart my path and share it with interested others.

I am still in the very early stages of considering what I want this page to look like and be. Right now, it's mostly the Repository of Useful Things, and my sketchy journal of my Writerly Meanderings.......

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So, there it is - my progress to date. At the moment, I feel like I am moving steadily forward, with several projects nearing completion, but no concrete results I can point to and say, "Lookee what I did!

But, as I said, there were those leaps of faith. One was taking a deep breath, and hitting "send" on a submission. Yes, it was just a wee smutty poem. but I sent it bravely out into the world, and, when it returned, I welcomed it home without calling it or myself a failure.

I got just a little stronger, by doing that.

I also signed up for the Cracked.com Writer's Forums, along with the fanfic site. Haven't been back to explore either, yet, but that is in the plan for the coming week. There is so much to learn, and i am eager to find out what it is!

Those two were smaller leaps, yet still, faith and trust were required.

As for those mountain-goat scrambles I referenced earlier, they seem to be occurring on many fronts, lately:

Photo by Shan Jeniah Burton.

I am learning to use Twitter and Tweetdeck.
I am learning new ways to increase traffic (not random traffic, but those who will actually enjoy my writing, I hope) to my blog, without feeling that I am becoming a leech who only wants pageviews and comments (although I really do so love interacting with my readers, especially those readers whose own writing speaks to me, too - as Annalise would say, "That's a symbiotic relationship!").
I am learning a great deal about my blogging platform, and am becoming much more fearless in following up on my many "what if" questions. I've dramatically changed the appearance of this blog, and I may not be done yet. Like my writer page, I have only the beginnings of an idea about how I would like it all to be.....but a beginning is a very good place to start.
I am learning that there are far more places to post good, honest writing than I ever imagined, and that none of my writing is unworthy of being considered "serious". Honestly, the writing I've always, in my heart, approached most seriously is my "Spockerotica" , as I call it I've been a little ashamed of that every since my tenth grade math teacher picked up the notebook I was furiously scribbling in, read a few paragraphs, turned hugely red, and managed, "Don't ever bring this garbage into my class again." And still, I couldn't restrain myself. Those feelings will out- and, in truth, some of the best writing I have ever done has been there. It's my "safe zone" for the trickier parts of life, like infant death, abuse and manipulation, the forces that rule each of us beyond resistance, reconciling a life not lived according to someone else's blueprint, spirituality, futility, grace, and the darker places in myself. These aren't just dirty stories; they are a rich tapestry of who I am.
I am learning to remind myself of that when I forget, and give all the stories inside me their dignity.
I am learning that I can let my house get cluttery and be all right with that, at least sometimes. I used to spend many hours each day in cleaning. Now, I find that I can do that only every day or two, and have hours more for writing, and still be available for the children when they need or want me.
I've discovered a new belief in and peace with myself. It's new, and a little wide-eyed, wet-winged, and delicate just now, and I don't want to harm or frighten it by trying to grasp at it. I'll just quietly tell you that it is there, over on that leaf, looking like its poised to soar....
I've discovered, at long last, that I can calmly ask for and assert what I need and want without whininess or entitlement. I can accept being told no, usually with fairly good grace. And I can take steps, confidently, to meet my own needs.
There are some really amazing people writing out there. I am not alone -
Following blogs led me here - #WANA. We are not alone. Might even write a blogpost about some of you, in the coming weeks...or, take the plunge and host some guest Bloggers.....
I've learned that I can be intensely self-driven and purposeful in pursuing my goals. I have often doubted myself, and let fear carry me further from my goals, with excuses, other projects, just plain avoidance....Now, I've realized that I am not hiding from deadlines when I do that; I am hiding from myself. And I'm not interested in doing that, anymore.
I also learned that my children can make cupcakes from a boxed mix, with only help in getting them out of the oven. What a delicious thing to learn! =D

Follow the rest of the ROWing crew!

effing fabulous!: Frumpy To Fabulous - Detoxing, It's Not Just About Chemicals

2012-01-12T05:52:00.000-05:00

These are words I could have written, but didn't. I am not alone. And that's something I didn't know, for a long time......

effing fabulous!: Frumpy To Fabulous - Detoxing, It's Not Just About Chemicals

ROW80 Goals Status Update #3 - "My Tortoise Days"

2012-01-11T23:20:00.000-05:00

Time for my third status report already - whoa, this one seemed to get here fast!

I think it's because I've been very, very tired. I don't sleep well when the moon is full, the last several months, and it's a full moon week.

Sunday, as I may or may not have mentioned, was Annalise's half-birthday. Because we'd had a small windfall, of late, the children and I made plans to go to the store to use their Christmas gift cards and buy the game system that Lise had asked for just before Christmas, but which we couldn't work into the budget until after the holiday.

Shopping exhausts me. Too many choices, too much light and noise and chaos. Too many negative interactions between adults and children. Far too much apathy for my hypersensitivity to emotional energy to ignore.

It drains me. What makes it worth it is the joy Annalise and Jeremiah take in their purchasing power, Even though my head usually starts aching within 10 minutes of walking into the department store, I love watching them interact competently with salespeople, strike up conversations with other customers, explore, critically consider the options before making their selections.

And, oh, yeah - I LOVE the joy on their faces and in their beings when they finally get that thing they have been longing for, that seemed, once, like an impossible dream, but is now right there in their hands - really, truly, theirs. I love the excitement and anticipation as we drive to the store; the plans that are made on the way home, the quiet absorption punctuated by enthusiastic exclamations of, "Hey, Mom, look at this!"

Monday "night", I put the computer aside early, and instead watched the Season 2 premier of Downton Abbey, which I discovered midway through last season, and am thrilled to know that I haven't missed huge parts of the story. As it always does, it filled my head with new ideas and flights of fantasy, and fed my insatiable hunger for watching humans interact.

With the car repair issues we've had the last few weeks, I've missed several workouts. Tuesday, I rejoined my free t'ai chi class at the YMCA, then Jim took Jeremiah and Annalise out on a Daddy Night, and I had several hours of solitude, in which I did a good deal of note-taking and draft- revising, with short bursts of fire and home tending in between.

There are times when writing is ascendant in my life, and times when other things are. Other things must have their turn - especially when the other things are family members, family business, and recharging my personal batteries.

If I keep drawing from my well without allowing it time to refill, my well will run dry. The ebb follows the flow; the flow follows the ebb; neither could exist without the other.

I've done some recreational reading, and some research reading, and taken time to be with my family, and time to be by myself.

So, in light of the refilling that's been occurring through the last few days, I offer up my progress on my goals.

Round of Words 80 Goals - Round 1, 2012:

I will write at least 10 essays and/ or photo essays, and post them publicly.

At this point, on Tuesday evening, I have not completed any more essays. I am preparing to create a revised rough draft of my Tiny Buddha essay, with the same quote but a more personally meaningful and positively oriented storyline and message. I have a series of notes that will work as something of an outline, and a to-do steps from here to completion. Going to let it rest for just a little bit before diving into the new rough draft.

I am also preparing to write a rough draft (and have reviewed and edited photographs for) the photoessay I am tentatively planning to submit to Sunday Surf, either this week or next.

I have had further contact with Cooperative Catalyst, suggesting that the original comment I posted would, with editing (I dashed it off and hit send utterly without regard to typos, which is not something I typically do), and that perhaps Jeremiah and/or Annalise might enjoy sharing reflections about their lives. I've gone back and done a rough edit; a plan for the next day or two is to check it over again, more carefully, and do revisions. I may also come up with some basic questions to ask the kids, if they want to answer - Annalise, in particular, has been very into filming herself, during the last few weeks, and she has expressed interest in doing a video interview.

I plan on taking some rough notes for the post on labels and perceptions simmering in my mind, within the next days to week.

I'm not counting this toward my goal, but I did get very interested in this blog post by Peter Gray over at Psychology Today, and I commented several times over two days. I find that this type of writing is very useful - it helps me to make my writing more concise, and to clarify my understanding of the purpose and details of our unschooling life - and, if I can help other parents see that video games are not the product of Satan, nor an addictive drug, but a potentially invaluable tool to some childrens' learning - a tool that is better used if and when and for however long a child chooses - that is all to the better.

I also spent some time rereading some blogposts my friend Eden Mabee and I exchanged nearly three years ago. I had remembered being kind but firm, in my posts.

What I found in rereading was that I had, at times, been highly intrusive and reactive. Moreover, I wasn't even a little bit kind, in some places.

In addition to the Tiny Buddha essay, which will discuss those posts in a tangental way (attitudes and approach are the real focus, there), I feel another essay forming, one dealing with reactivity, and recording, and rereading later, and the feelings this can bring up, and the revelations. This one still needs time to percolate before I write anything down, but I feel it getting closer to a place where it has enough form to do so.

And, true to form, this update seems to have become an essay, too, so that makes six, upon posting this - three-fifths of the way to my goal of 10! =D

I will submit at least one essay or photo essay apiece to

Tiny Buddha and Sunday Surf.

As mentioned above, I've decided to lay aside the rambling rough draft I wrote for this project last week, because I have had a better idea. I an saving that piece, though, because, after focusing and revising, it still might make a good post for my blog. For now, though, I will let it rest and move on to the better idea I had a few weeks ago, working from the notes I wrote Tuesday evening.

The Sunday Surf post which I have decided will indeed A Tale of Two New Years, although I haven't yet written a first draft. I have discovered, though, that, in addition to all its other charms, my Sweet L'il Lenovo comes with a built in card reader! So, rather than needing to hook up the camera (which is often with Annalise, these days), I can just switch the card, and plug it into the side of the laptop. Easy-peasy! So, I put now have New Year's 2012 pictures uploaded to my hard drive, and have edited them in Picasa. Next is uploading them to a Web Album and writing the rough draft....

I have done a full revision of the essay for the Cooperative Catalyst blog,directing it at a different audience, and adding a point or two of conversation and some places for relevant links, I'm going to let it rest a day or two before I do a final checkthrough and contact the blog owner. I'm having some second thoughts about the changes (feeling a bit - well, presumptuous, I guess). But I know that the owner is willing to work with me, and I also know at least part of this is that it is a big, established blog with a lot of people posting who have academic titles....I'm finding I need to remind myself that college is not the only way to pursue learning.

At any rate, it's good for me to know that others have felt similar anxieties, and that I will go ahead with the post, despite my nervousness. And, next time, maybe I will be just a bit more confident and less nervous. Growth is seldom perfectly easy and comfortable. But without growth there is stagnation, so - BRING IT ON!!!!!!!!

I will complete the rough draft of my unfinished

NaNoWriMo novel, Chameleon's Dish.

I think 750words.com may be my "Secret Weapon" in reminding myself to write daily. I have a bit of a streak going, and they give these really, really cute little animal stamps at certain points along the journey. Not only do I like those, but Annalise, does, too - and I love to see Annalise smile.

It's also a great "test mile". I can write 750 words fairly effortlessly, so that induces me to write every day, and, often, I write more. And, through the process of consistent writing, I am finding depth in the characters and their relationships, and the plot has become more complex and layered.

That's a really cool thing; the middle of the novel was looking a bit saggy and loose; now, it's tightening up, and I have a clearer idea of what may happen in the next several chapters.

To date, I have written 5363 words in Chapter 14. I think I may have the chapter finished by Sunday's check-in. And I am loving the writing I'm doing! =D

In the meantime, I've been rereading parts of Time for Yesterday, by A.C. Crispin. I've thought for a long time I would like to give Spock and his son, Zar, a chance to get to know each other in another venue and phase of life, and I'm going to play with that idea a little, as long as there is time travel involved, anyway.

I will submit at least four pieces, queries, or proposals to

for-pay markets.

I shifted my focus on this goal at Sunday's check-in, Since then, I have been gathering information, but not doing a lot of in-depth research as of yet. I will spend time, in the coming days, reading guidelines, sample pieces, and perhaps even taking some notes for potential for-pay submissions.

So far, I have collected information for erotica, Star Trek fan fiction, a author-reader collective, and a comedy and satire market. These are all genres I enjoy writing in; I've decided to put Elance on the rear burner for now, so that I can focus on these markets, first.

I also intend to investigate markets for essays on parenting, travel, and slice of life pieces.

I have moved forward a little more quickly with my own writing venture. I have researched one possible market for the product/service I am intending to start with (beginning very simply, with a couple of ideas for expanding, if the initial offering meets with interest). There is another market I would like to investigate, as well.

I've considered my pricing, but not yet how I will collect payments. That, too, will hopefully be a bit more evolved by the next check-in.

Over the next several days, I will be breathing some life into the concepts, and beginning notes for a product/service description. I will need one of those before I can access the full scope of information on my first market, and, once I have something concrete written, the entire project will become more real and less nebulous, to me.

Overall, I'm still finding this the most intimidating of my goals. The Who the hell so you think YOU are, anyway? chorus, performed in my imagination by my parents and sister, is a little harder to ignore than I would like. So is the girl inside me who figures that, if I'm not perfect, why would anyone really care what I have to say?

I know better than to turn around and give those voices my attention. I may only be able to take baby steps, just now, against the resistance in my own mind, but I will keep on making them, and gaining strength for longer and stronger strides. And even tiny baby steps will carry me closer to completing my goals.

After I wrote the above (because my updates end up as essays, I start them the day before posting) , and got a moderately decent night's sleep, I decided to begin today's writings with some market research.

Since I collected the erotica info first, I decided to do my waiting in-depth research at Clean Sheets, first. In researching their sample poetry, I remembered a very short erotic poem I wrote before my children were born. It's short enough that I had it memorized.

At the time, I submitted it to Amelia's magazine, where it was (albeit sweetly and wittily) rejected.
Not having a great deal of self-confidence at that time, especially as regards my writing, I allowed myself to get discouraged.

An hour or two ago, I played with the poem for a few minutes, toying with the imagery and allusion until I felt comfortable.

Then I set about the process of following the submission process. Every time I got nervous, I finished the next tiny step, and went to do some hometending, or to hang a few minutes with Miah and Lise. Once, all I did was to put a subject line in the email!

Tiny little baby tortoise steps - but I made enough of them to get the little naughty bit ready. Then I breathed deeply, and clicked SEND!!!!
Yes, I did. Me. I did that. I claimed that part of my life, put it into words, created a tiny bit of what I felt was lovely truth, and sent it out there into the wider world.
I'm still absorbing that, but, while I do, I'm going to celebrate getting one-quarter of the way to this goal - and I plan to do more marketing in a day or few.

I also signed up for Cracked.com's Writer's forums....this, and the associated workshop I am waiting to be approved for, might give me a venue for exploring my interest in humor, satire, and parody.

I will update, keep current, and add writing samples to

my Facebook Writer Page (Shan Jeniah Burton, Writer).

I've been keeping up with the Writer Page, at least once or twice a day. It's a great place to put the links to sites, blogs, and my own work as I need it. I can find things easily, and share them.
Still no progress on how to pretty the page up, I have a couple of ideas in the nascent stage, but nothing beyond that, thus far. I think I need to just play around a little, here and there, in the same way I do my blog, and see what develops from that play...

I certainly didn't set any land-speed records this week, but, like the tortoise, I feel that every post, every comment, every moment spent reading, builds me, as a person and as a writer.

It seems that this last few days have been more about laying groundwork, doing research, gathering resources, and making small steps forward in lots of areas.

But even more about re-centering myself in my life and my family, and the joy we share....

Not particularly exciting, writing-wise, maybe, for the most part, but still forward motion, and at a sustainable level, given that this was the first time since ROW80 started that the children and I have has access to a car, which, of course, led to being away from home more than we have been for the last few weeks.

The weather forecast is suggesting that, beginning tonight, the next few days will be more wintry than anything we've seen so far this season. With the children still enjoying the treasures they purchased on Sunday, I may find considerably more time to write....I also might get a little more sleep than the very little I get while the moon is full (I think I'm a were-writer!), which would certainly help me to have more energy for writing and everything else, too.

And the quiet writing days just past have built the foundation for the next surge of activity.....

I have found joy in the last days....

And relaxation, too......sigh....

And activities of many sorts, each containing its own sweet or savory flavor.

Hope everyone is living sweetly, and is finding their goals just challenging and scary enough to be exciting and growth-inspiring! =D

*******

ROW80 Goals Status #2 = "Delving Deeper"

2012-01-07T04:29:00.000-05:00

Time again already - I find myself looking forward to the twice-weekly updates. They come often enough to keep me focused on moving forward in all my goal areas; yet they don't come frequently enough to be distracting or daunting, to me.

It's been a mellow few days. Two days of temperatures near zero degrees Fahrenheit kept us mostly indoors. We've played some games: Mastermind and Fire Boy and Water Girl in the Light Temple are two games I learned from my children this week. I cut my hair. Miah and Lise trimmed theirs, too. I made a beef and barley stew with carrots, leeks, and celery; oatmeal with raisins, cinnamon, and brown sugar; and assorted fruit and vegetable platters - strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, frozen grapes, green and red bell peppers, celery, baby carrots, apples, and snow pea pods were all joyfully consumed, this week.

There has been art, and laughter, and Phineas and Ferb, Frances the Badger, Soul Eater, The Big Bang Theory, and lots of PBS Kids. There have been indoor obstacle courses and scuffles, laughter and frustration. There have been deep discussions of a personal nature. There've been kisses and snuggles and working together in the wee hours. There's been lots of fun and silliness, and splashing in the tub.

Jim and I are finding moments of connection, and would prefer hours. Looking forward to his vacation at the end of next month - or for me to go back to sleeping nights, or for him not to be tied up in car repairs.

There has been love, and learning, and life.

And there has been writing, for me, Quite a lot of writing. Short writing just for fun, at One-Minute Writer. Chameleon's Dish, because the story is unrolling in my mind, and it's an adventure to follow along where it leads me. Notes for an upcoming essay, and a potential business venture on a tiny scale. And a completed essay, here, that was deeply powerful for me. More work on the Tiny Buddha post. And a comment on Cooperative Catalyst that brought surprising results - more on that later.

There's been research, and learning how to do more, and more efficiently, with my blog platform. There's been experimentation, and some failures and setbacks,. and successes, too. There's even been social interaction around writing, which has been refreshing and exciting, and new.

So, where am I on those goals, you ask? You didn't? Doesn't matter. I'm going to tell you, anyway!

Round of Words 80 Goals - Round 1, 2012:

I will write at least 10 essays and/ or photo essays, and post them publicly.

Early early Saturday morning, I posted my third blog post, an intense affair. I have created a to-do list for the next steps in the Tiny Buddha submission post and written a rough draft, and the first notes/impressions for A Tale of Two New Years, which will focus on the changes in our children and our lives between January 1, 2010, and January 1, 2012.

There is another essay simmering like a thick beef stew in my mind. It has to do with labels people give to each other, and the perceptions that we may view as reality, I can't yet pin it down any further than that, but, if it crystallizes, I will take some notes and perhaps make a beginning. Not right away, though - I need breaks between my more intense posts.

I'm also considering going back to the early chapters of my NaNo novel, which were basically a long series of rough, stream-of-consciousness essays. I know there are deep and true things in there that deserve more than lingering in the purgatory of my hard drive. It will be like a treasure hunt, finding the pearls in my sea of words, and bringing them up to the surface to share.

The comment I shared, which I brought over to my blog, too, because it seemed worth saving, and because I posted it without editing, and want to edit, was long enough to be an essay, on its own, and was publicly posted. A short while later, I received a message from the blog owner, asking if - gasp! - I would be interesting in writing a guest post! I am researching more of the blog, and will decide in a few days.

So, at this point, I have four completed and publicly posted. That's two-fifths of the way to achieving this goal! I have an essay in progress, another pending, and an idea brewing for a third, with backup material waiting in the wings to be mined.

Oh, and it looks like I am essay writing, again......so, I will be halfway done with this goal when I post this!

I will submit at least one essay or photo essay apiece to Tiny Buddha and Sunday Surf.

As I mentioned above, I've been working on my Tiny Buddha submission essay. I've created a to-do list for my nest few steps, and completed a rambling first draft . I intend to give it a bit of a rest, rereading it maybe in a day or two, before attempting to begin to shape it in any particular direction. (After writing this, I chatted online with fellow ROWer and my lifelong spiritsyster, Eden Mabee, and, as she so often does, she set my thoughts in a new direction without meaning to, and I think it's way better than what I had written.

The Sunday Surf post will likely be A Tale of Two New Years. I will know for certain when I have a completed draft. I hope to move forward on that project, too, over the next few days. Since it's lighter and far more upbeat throughout, and I get to play with lots of pictures of the kids, new and older, it will make a good balance for the more intense material I am dealing with for the Tiny Buddha submission.

I will also continue my researching of the Cooperative Catalyst blog, and perhaps begin some note taking on potential ideas for that project.

I will complete the rough draft of my unfinished NaNoWriMo novel, Chameleon's Dish.

I left Chameleon's Dish halfway through Chapter 13, when November and NaNo ended. I had wanted to finish the draft before Christmas, but instead took the time to relax and really enjoy spending the holidays with my family.

Now, I can happily report that Chapter 13 is finished, and I am, to date, 2807 words into Chapter 14.

I have a general sense of the trajectory the novel is following, and the climactic event. I have some idea of what happens along the way...

But there is a lot of room for surprises, and they do seem to keep coming. That makes the writing much more fun and gratifying, but makes it impossible to predict, at this point, how many words lie between me and the end. I would say that I am somewhere solidly in the middle of the middle! =D

I will submit at least four pieces, queries, or proposals to for-pay markets (like Elance, for example).

I am honestly, well - uninspired - with what I have seen offered on Elance. I 've done copywriting before, and SEO stuff. It has passed out of easy reach, but I once wrote all the text for a large cleaning and restoration company's website.

Truth is, though, I really don't enjoy that kind of writing. I don't really want to plug someone for money. I would do it for passion, so I will probably keep my eyes open around there a couple of times a week.

I feel that I am meant to do essays, and stories, and writing I deeply and passionately believe in.

So I have spent some time gathering links to possible erotica markets, and reading guidelines. I am in the digesting phase, now. I also skimmed some of Susie Bright's site, and found some advice for writers that I hope to read through within the next several days.

I have also dipped the tip of my big toe into looking for Star Trek fan fiction markets. Nothing really to report yet, except the interest, and the first place to look - Boldly Writing.

I am thinking of other places my writing might fit well, but that is still in its very earliest stages.

The biggest decision I have made is to adapt this goal a little. I had written that there should be money involved in these submissions; I am revising that. If the publication is willing to offer me something of value - exposure, a byline, a bio, and/or archive space, I will still be moving toward the long-range goal of earning money at writing. So, from this point forward, this goal will read:

"The pay doesn't need to be much; but there should be something of tangible value offered. "

And no, I will not accept kittens. Or chickens. Margot the Manx is happily the solitary feline here. We're not zoned for chickens.....

I have done some brainstorming, and chatted a little with Jim. about my potential writing enterprise. I have started a Springpad file for notes and a very basic beginning to-do list. I've toyed with some ideas that excite me.

And I'm still not ready to talk about them....I want to be quiet with them , and feel them, and do some research, before I offer or commit to anything. The plan, so far, is small, but it is something that makes me feel happy inside. Rather than force it to bloom too early, I'm going to follow that happy feeling and see where it leads me.....

I will update, keep current on a weekly basis, and add
writing samples to my Facebook Writer Page (Shan Jeniah Burton, Writer).

I've begun to see what a great tool the Writer Page is. Since I'm not cluttering it up with trivia, or details of my life with the children, or inspirational quotes or pictures or chatting or any of the many other things I use my regular Facebook account for, I can put links for research, my different projects and posts, and other writing- specific items there, and they don't get lost nearly so easily as they would, on the main page.
I have added several links to the page, and more writing samples, too. And I'm enjoying it.

Still want to take a bit of time and post some writing and book-related pictures there, though!

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

So that's what I've been up to the last few days. Tomorrow is likely to have less writing in it, as we will be celebrating Lise's half-birthday. We're going to get her the last-minute big-ticket item on her Christmas list, because the budget wouldn't allow it in time for the holiday. Gift cards will be spent by both children, and i am getting a chill pad for the Sweet L'il Lenovo, and a new writing notebook or two, because I like to jot things.

I feel as though I have made a solid and delightful start on an adventure I've been waiting my whole life for!

Thank You, ROW80, Thank You!

2012-01-05T03:01:00.001-05:00

Time to do my first One- Minute Writer, on a book I read as a child. It was The Velveteen Rabbit,. and it reminded me of David March, my real stuffed cat. I cried when I finished and he became real. Still do, every time I read it or think of it. Still love that book!

ROW80 - Status Report #1 - Embracing My Goals

2012-01-04T00:49:00.000-05:00

Wow! Time for my first goals update, already. That went fast, in a whirl of living and renewing my friendships with characters and ideas; giving myself permission to voice things I have long felt, but held within; and reaching and stretching toward my passions....it's been a cool ride.

So, here's where I've gotten to on each of my goals, and then, after, my reflections for the next days....

Round of Words 80 Goals - Round 1, 2012:

I will write at least 10 essays and/ or photo essays, and post them publicly.

These may be completely original works, recurring themes, unfinished pieces from my blog's drafts folder, or pieces pulled from my writing notebooks. It will require an average of one completed and posted essay every 8 days to achieve this goal (and, lookee, here's number one, nearly finished; and I am halfway through another in my blog drafts file.....that's two working, with no sweat at all!)

Since my original goals post was an essay, I have completed one tenth of this goal. Another essay is nearing completion, and will then just need editing before I post it. I have another essay (possibly with photos) in progress for Tiny Buddha, and a developing idea for a fourth, which I may create some preliminary notes for during the next few days. Since this one will be a photoessay, I will also need to locate and edit some pictures before completing that one - that may take a little longer, because I have a photo backlog. A few other ideas are simmering in my mind. I'm not rushing them; they'll be ready, eventually.

I'm feeling very confident about this goal - I have no shortage of material or ideas, and enjoy plumbing them and fleshing them out. I'm finding having a few working at a time, in varying states of development, works better for me than a linear approach - the ideas for one tend to inform the others, and bring new inspirations, too.

I will submit at least one essay or photo essay apiece to Tiny Buddha and Sunday Surf.

These don't have to be accepted to count; only written, polished, and submitted. This goal is based on my desire to share my truths with audiences who might find value in them; these seem like good places to begin to do that on a larger scale. I may decide, if I get on a roll, to submit more than once, or also to other blogs, carnivals, hops, or whatever else tickles or inspires me. I will need to complete a submission on average every 40 days to attain this goal.

As I wrote above, I have read the submission guidelines for my Tiny Buddha post, and have begun the first draft, with 1386 words written so far. The topic is an emotional one, for me, and I know that that is coming out as dross around the points I am trying to define. It helps me to allow this process to play out; if I don't, I tend to carry that emotional angst, and it alters my ability to perceive clearly. So, while I can't say how long it will take me, or how many words, I an committed to allowing myself to say what I need to and how I need to say it, and, once I have found the place where I can deal only with the points I want to bring forth, I expect things will flow well and perhaps quickly.

The Sunday Surf submission may or may not be the one I am currently developing in my head, the photoessay about New Years' 2010 and 2012. I suspect (rather fittingly), that I will know more about this by Sunday.

I will complete the rough draft of my unfinished NaNoWriMo novel, Chameleon's Dish.
When I began NaNo this year, I really had no idea where my writing was leading. The beginning was a series of essay chapters, all springing from Hamlet quotes, with a very loose framework of fiction wrapped around them (some of these may be perfect fodder for the first goal, above). The main character and the skeleton of her story appeared about 35,000 words into the challenge.
I've mostly left her hanging, lost in time and space, and working at survival, since December rolled in. I wrote over 60,000 words, but Tisira needs to make it home (or does she?) At least, she and her loved ones deserve resolution.....
And by rough draft, I do mean rough, in the NaNo sense of things. I can edit it all in later rounds, this one is just for getting the basic story down where I can see it and play with it......my fingers will hopefully fly like Hermes' feet, inspired by lives that must speak through me to have their stories told....I owe them that much!

I renewed my acquaintance with Tisira and her family. I located the various sections of the last two chapters, which were tossed here and there sort of willy-nilly - just as NaNo was ending, my Sweet L'il Lenovo arrived,and I began switching files, and working on the novel in odd places....anyway, I located the fragments, and, although they aren't yet all physically reunited, I have reread the last two chapters, doing some in situ editing and formatting as I went along.

I resumed my partnership with www.750words.com, too, and spent some pleasant time the last two nights being, once again, thoroughly surprised by the things that seemed to have just been waiting to happen, although I had no idea they would happen that way. I wrote 1590 words Monday night, and 1256 words last night, for a total of 2746 words since beginning ROW80. The story (in the middle chapters) is heading in some surprising directions, and I am eager to see where it will lead me over the next days...

I also got to remember just how much I love these characters and how the various elements of several of my passions are weaving through and around each other. I'm grateful to have these people and their stories as part of my life again.....

I will submit at least four pieces, queries, or proposals to for-pay markets (like Elance, for example).
The pay doesn't need to be much; but there should be money involved. For over two decades I have dreamed of making a living with the words that are always with me, the imagery and emotion that are part of every moment, the lessons I have learned or failed to learn, the fantasies that have made my world a more wonderful place to live.
It still scares the shit out of me, to put myself forward this way. I was raised to not look for compliments or toot my own horn. But, if I do not, who will? Who will know I have this burning desire, if I don't say so and back it up with action? All I have is the rest of my life. Submitting some effort at earning every 20 days seems like a not-too-daunting way to make that dream a reality.
I may choose to substitute an idea I've had for a private writing enterprise for one of these submissions. I'm not really ready to talk about it yet, but the idea has been with me for several years now. I would need to roll out a completed offer and post it publicly before I could count it.

This has, in fact, proven the most uncomfortable of my goals to work on. There's something about putting myself on display that makes me feel as though I am trying to set myself above others. It's bringing up a lot of emotion in me, and triggering doubts and fears I can't quite put names too, yet.

Rather than try to subdue or ignore these feelings, I am moving forward slowly, paying attention to them, because I have found it useful to go deeper into my emotions, and give myself time and space to understand them. Not only is that good for my writing; it's great for the rest of my life, too!

So, I have gone back over to the Elance site, and made a cursory search of postings, adding 18 to my Watch list. I am expecting to winnow that again, tonight, then perhaps once more, before selecting one job to write a proposal for. Hopefully, there'll be more to report on this front by Sunday.

I have also searched for listings for erotic fiction - during my goals post, I realized just how important a part of my life my private erotica is, and that, if the purpose here is to pursue my passions, my passion for passion could be a perfect place to start. ;) It might be impossible to get hung up on putting myself "out there" if I am busily weaving sensuality to share...

There are some fascinating erotica markets out there, and I am really excited about creating a list of several to look into more fully. Eden Mabee, a dear lifelong friend and fellow ROW80'er (and the one who introduced me to the concept), suggested Susie Bright's blog, and I plan to check that out this week, to. More updates on that, Sunday, I hope....

I haven't written anything down yet, but I have been spending some time pondering my personal writing enterprise, and directions I could take it. I plan on jotting some notes soon, either in Springpad, or in a trusty spiral-bound notebook.....and I am gearing up to investigate marketing opportunities and/or platforms, payment collection methods, and possible initial expenses for this venture....

I plan on having more to report on that front on Sunday, as well. If things are still looking feasible in a week or so, I will probably first discuss it on my Facebook Writer Page , so feel free to take a look there, first, if you're interested....

All in all, I'm feeling pretty positive about this goal. It may be a while before I feel comfortable, but this type of discomfort is usually a sign of big growth, for me, and I welcome that. =)

I will update, keep current on a weekly basis, and add writing samples to my Facebook Writer Page (Shan Jeniah Burton, Writer).
I started the page in the summer, when I made my first foray into Elance, and was looking to network more fully. Life intruded, and the page has been ignored for months. I will resurrect it, update it, and use it to recount my Various Adventures in Writing Land. Both the successes and missteps will be valuable to me; and they might be to others, too......

I imagine this goal will be the least labor intensive, requiring only random pieces of time as I have them to spare. It's more about returning that long-neglected orphan of a page to a state of kemptness and usefulness, and about publicly and unapologetically proclaiming myself as who and what I am - Shan Jeniah Burton, Writer).

This one has been lots of fun. I'm only just beginning to realize all the cool things I can do with the page, and, although it may take a while to figure them out, I plan to upgrade it little by little.

So far, I am remembering to post to it at least a time or two each day, and I have added one excerpt from Chameleon's Dish and one of my favorite blogposts to date, I'm THAT Mom..... , I plan, over the next week or so, to post more of my favorite posts there.

I will also be posting updates there for my ROW80 goals, and track any submissions, contests, or other writing there.

I plan on spiffing the place up with some photos and favorite links, because the place doesn't seem to have a lot of character, yet........and I definitely do! It ought to reflect that, I think....

******

So those are the goals, and my progress to date. I feel like it is a good and solid beginning, and I am enjoying the challenge, each day, of seeing how far I can move toward these goals.

I am not pushing or forcing myself. I am honoring myself, and fulfilling my need to write - not as much for the goals as for myself, because I need this, for myself.

I'm doing it for joy, not obligation - as I mentioned in my goals post, doing it because I "Have To" doesn't work for me, anyway.

Neither does the much-offered advice to "Place Butt in Chair", on some regular schedule. There is too much going on here, most days, for me to stay still for long. The nature of our lives is spontaneity. Jim is back to work today, and the kids and I have indulged in hometending, Mastermind, and making food (oatmeal and frozen pizza, so far). I've been hauling lots of firewood, as it has been cold enough, the last two days, to have daytime as well as nighttime fires.

Much of the wood we're burning, this winter, came from the huge hardwood beams of a barn built in 1913. There are large, crudely forged bolts, black with age, and joints have been cut into the beams. They are solid pieces of history, and they set my mind to imagining the lives of the trees that provided them; the men (I am assuming it was men) who planed the beams and raised them; the animals who sheltered there....

For me, the simple tasks often seen as distractions from writing tend to feed my writing. With my hands sunk deep in a sudsy dishpan, the sweetly aromatic steam rising up to meet me as I look out the window to more firewood and bicycles, and Gus, the old Dodge pickup truck that was the first thing Jim and I ever bought together, and which carried us around the country for years. Gus hasn't gone far, these last eight years or so, but, this spring, we're fixing him up, giving him a fresh coat of paint, and preparing him for what may be our biggest adventure yet....

I've found that I can stay up all night to write, at least sometimes, and that there is something about being very sleepy and yet attentive, that connects me more fully to my own depths.

So I write in short bursts during the day, as life and other goals permit, and in longer stretches at night, after the house settles down, and people are asleep or engaged in quiet activities.

Doing what works best for me feels great! I feel that I have a direction, and the endpoints are marked on my map.....but, as anyone who has ever driven anywhere with me will know, and as my children would be thrilled to tell you all about, I have a tendency to wander off course. And the wandering always leads to an adventure of one sort or another, like the time the road I was following suddenly ended in a body of water!

Eventually, by a variety of means - asking someone, looking again at the directions I carry, retracing my steps, striking off in what I think may be the right general direction - I always find my way to the destination, although it may take more time and miles than I had anticipated.

For me, it truly is about the journey.....the exploration of my own depths along the way, the paths my mind wanders when left to its own devices...and the times when I reread some passage, and find Truth there...

I'm excited about what the next few days will birth, and where I will end up - but also about what scenery I will see, what experiences I'll have along the way....

Somehow, I've wandered off course, again, and unintentionally written my second essay. So, that means I'm one-fifth of the way to achieving my first goal! =D

Now, I'm off to do some more living, which will lead to more writing......

Excerpt from Chameleon's Dish, my NaNoWriMo 2011 novel...

2012-01-02T21:46:00.000-05:00

Tisirawoke with a start, nearly falling from the branch before her clawsdug into the gnarled bark.

Ashort, alarmed sound below her -

Shehad fallen asleep, and slept, for the first time, in Lynxform.

Itwas dusk.

Andthere was a newling fawn, alone and staring up at her, but apparentlytoo weak to run.

Thethoughts spun for a moment in the fiery echoes of her dreaming...wasit dreaming, or did Father's soul truly Burn, this moment?

Thefawn settled back into its nest, bleating softly, but no doe came todefend it.

Suddenly,Tisira remembered the remains of the deer the bear had eaten, andthought there was a possibility that the fawn's mother had been amongthem.

Itwas a late fawn, and would not be strong enough to survive a harshwinter even with a mother. Without, there was no chance itwould survive. It would be the bear, or the cold, orstarvation, or sickness - but the fawn would die.

Asif it had felt her thoughts, it stretched its slender neck forward,bleating for milk.

Shecould drop from the branch and end its hunger and suffering.

Therewas regret - regret that the fawn had lost its mother. But simagaro had provided, and her life would be fueled by its death.

Shebreathed as Father had shown her, slowly and steadily - not atall the way he had been breathing, in her dreaming - allowing doubt,and fear and regret to leave her...

Then,emptied of emotion, she filled herself, as Mother did, with thedetails of the Hunt, the desire for the kill, becoming one with herprey, simply part of the balance of these strange new Huntlands.

Therewas no thought, no decision. Tisira dropped from the branch assima garo provided, snapping the fawn's neck and ending its sufferingin the same instant.

Shefelt the echoes of Father's soulfire, and was aware that thebear might be nearby - the wind did not carry its scent to her, butthat meant little. It would be hungry; the air spoke of afreeze tonight, and cold tomorrow. Soon, the bear must sleep,and it would be looking, now, for as much food energy as it couldfind.

Soshe wasted no time, instead tearing into the fawn's belly to devourthe liver and stomach in huge gulps, scarcely tasting it. Thenshe cracked the breastbone, and, soaking her muzzle in rich blood,ate the lungs and heart.

Allthe time, she kept her eyes and ears moving, so that no largerpredator would catch her unprepared. She wanted to drag thefawn into the tree, where wolves, at least, could not reach. Butit was too heavy for her, so she would eat until she had had her fillor until she was chased from her prize...

Shehad just begun to gnaw away a leg when she saw the bear charging ather from the low plain that ended in her ridge. 4.91 tenbreath,and it would be upon her. She could not defend her prizeagainst such a large challenger, and so she must flee.

Butnot without some reward for her effort. Ripping through tenderyoung muscles and sinew, she tore off thehind leg at the meatyhaunch, and sprang into the tree, leaping into the highest branches,nearly dropping the leg.

Shedid not think the bear could push the tree down, if it chose to try,and it looked just slightly too large to climb. Still, she keptherself tense and ready to spring away, if she needed to.

Thebear reached the carcass, sniffed it, then rose on its hind legs tosniff at her, making a low, grunting noise. She swiped at it,claws extended, and arched her back as her fur stood out, making herseem larger and more threatening.

Thebear swiped experimentally, but could not reach her without leavingthe fawn to do so. It waited a moment, then let out a fierceroar, its breath ripe with the meat it had already consumed. Then,it shook its shaggy head and dropped back to all fours to seize thefawn and drag it several lengths away, back up the ridge.

Itset to ripping and gorging on the carcass, back to Tisira, havingapparently decided that she was not a threat.

Shetook advantage of its preoccupation with feeding and leapt from thetree to the base of the ridge, still, somehow, holding to Lynxform,and managing too not to drop the haunch in the process.

Oncesafely away from the bear - she had moved further from her den-place,so that the bear, if it followed. would not know the direction - shereclaimed her natural form, and tucked the leg into the bundled fursshe carried, so that it would not drip.

Keepingcarefully downwind of the bear, she trotted, shivering a little withthe growing chill, looping around the space between the ridge and herden, finding three small and fast streams to cross, and twiceclimbing a tree to leap into another before descending, all in anattempt to confuse the trail if the bear chose to look for her andthe meat she carried.

Theeffort it had required to hold Lyxform so long, to cover her trail,and the rich vitals she had eaten, brought about a sudden andirresistible fatigue.

Butstill, she felt the need of a fire, for protection and for warmth -and she must consume the meat on the fawn's leg, lest it bring thebear to her.

Yawningand shivering, she brought out the jar that held coals and ash fromher home fire, and carefully built up a bed of tinder around it, thenkindling. While she waited for the coals to ignite, she built a roughspit for the haunch, then saw to it that she had enough firewood tolast through a twoday, because she might need this shelter again, orremain longer than she had intended.

Shewas sleepy, and so couldn't fully trust her logic, but it seemedthat, if there were people here, they would be likeliest to live neara larger body of water - at least, they would if this was Earth, forthat was the pattern of human development. If the flowing water she hadheard was as large a body as it seemed, and if there were peoplehere, and if this was Earth, then it was possible if not probablethat she would find them by following the sounds to where the waterwas, and investigating there.

"Thereare too many variables to formulate a strong theory." Shecould almost hear Father's voice, in her mind, puzzling over theproblem with her. "But, in pursuing your hypothesis, youwill doubtless acquire further information that will refine or alterthe parameters of your search."

"So,you're saying I should keep looking." Sometimes, shethought Father forgot that she was not grown yet, and did not alwaysunderstand his meanings from the words he chose. Almost, itseemed that he was still on a starship, Mother said, and givingreports.

ButMother always said it with a smile and with deep fondness in herscent. And Tisira loved that part of Father, and didn't mind,and, besides, he was always patient and willing to explain until shefound understanding.

Nowshe heard him, in her mind. "Yes, Tisira. You musthave more information, and perhaps it is better found where you arethan where you have been."

Thosewords seemed to be spoken into her soul, and they made her feel warmand safe, with Father's devotion and his logic there, as they alwayswere, as they always had been.

But,as she stared into the growing blaze she was feeding, she wasreminded of her dreams, and how Father had been, in them - alightwith a fire that was somehow like Huntlust, and yet not.

Hehadn't seemed surprised or frightened by his burning soul; it seemed,somehow, a part of him; a part she had not known was there, until now-

Orhad she? She thought back, remembering her first, dimmestmemories- those from before she had been born, when she andKirana, although they had not had names, then, had floated warm andsafe, together....

Hadthere been that fire, then, just as she was becoming aware? Wasit not a thing that she, too, knew to the core of her, but had onlyforgotten, because it had ended, and, for so long, Father had simplybeen as she now expected him to be?

Motherhad always called him 'fierce one'; and Father, although so verygentle and peaceful in a way no Tacivaarii had ever been, had nevercorrected her. She knew, because no one on Vulcan made any kindof secret about it, that they had been a savage and warrior people,for far more millenia than they had been peaceful, and that logic wasthe answer to whatever had driven such passions.

Butit was not logical that those passions would simply vanish, was it? Nor that there would be such a focus on emotional control, ifthere were not emotions they thought they *must* control, lest theybecome impossible to control....

Orwas it only a dream, born not of some actual fire within Father, butinstead of her own worries?

But,just like Father's imagined words, she knew that, in this too, shedidn't have enough information. She would release her concerns,but also remain alert to what she felt from Father....

Sherealized that she had been staring into the fire long enough for herlegs to begin to ache and prickle. The spitted haunch sizzled, and she removed it from the fire, and then ducked outside- it was full dark now, and clear, with something that lookedvery much like Earth's moon waning in the sky - to be certain thatthe smoke from her fire was filtering out through the small hole inthe shallow cave's roof.

Shescented the air cautiously - it was blowing toward her from thedirection of the ridge, now, and she could smell the bear, somewherenear the fawn. She thought it might be asleep, or resting, butit showed no interest in coming closer to her.

Fromfarther away, she picked up a different scent - hard to identify forcertain, but the spoor put one word into her mind, as though it werewritten in the fire of Father's soul -

People.

Itwas too late and she was far too tired to investigate now, but shedetermined that, as soon as she woke, she would go toward that scent,and she whether she were mistaken.

Shemight be. It smelled both like and unlike the people smells sheknew so well - but then, Vulcan and human and Tribed people allsmelled different,and each person, too, had their own unique scent. So did each planet, and even a starship had its own palette ofscents, and each place on each planet, or each section of a starship,had its own flavor built from those scents.

Butit felt like people, and she felt her heart beating quickly in herside. People could get her home, or tell her where she was sothat she could find home.

Andstill, there was Mother's voice in her mind, saying, "There aremore dangers in the Huntlands than you might know. Alwaysremember that there is more in reality than you may know, and remainalert, wary, and ready to spring, or flee, if need be."

And,as so often happened, she could hear Father echoing the sentiment,but in his own way, "No one can know all there is to know,Tisira. The wise know that they do not know, and hold themselvesready to learn more, or to act."

Shewas truly beginning to shiver, now. A nightbird hooted softly,signaling the beginning of its night's hunting; the crisp andnear-freezing air carried the sound, which was at once both hauntingand beautiful.

Shetook a moment to stare at the skies, trying to fix the stars into hermind, so that she could keep them there as she fell asleep, or whenshe meditated, hoping that her family, or the Huntthread, might senseit, and know where to begin to look for her. That was one moreway in which she could open herself to sima garo.

"B-Butit won't be serving s-sima garo to fr-freeze to death," she toldherself, then jumped at how loud and clear her voice sounded in thestill, chill night.

Chucklingat her own nervousness, she went inside, to the warmth of hersnapping fire, to the haunch, now nicely roasted, and to the warmthof her bed....

Sheslept restlessly, woken frequently by that shadow of remembereddream-fire, which twisted through the imaginings of what variety ofpeople these might be - if they did, indeed, exist, and weren'tsimply her own imagining...

Finally,she awoke, in the cold of predawn, and her mind would not settle. She fed her fire, which was burning low, then went outside torelieve herself, and to stare again at the stars, trying to bring tomind the exact images of Earth's starcharts, to see if this skymatched...

Again,she attempted to sleep; again, she could not settle her mind. No-she must know. If there were people; and why she felt thatFather was, somehow, in danger from this soulfire he did not fear. Ifshe would be able to take the bear, or if the bear would instead takeher, perhaps while she slept.

Therewas little point in laying here, wide awake. She didn't know how farshe would need to travel to get to where the people were; and shedidn't know, if she found them, if she would be able to seek theirhelp at once. She had observed that many adults of many speciestreated children as lesser beings who must be controlled andconstantly under adult eyes. Who must - the word struck awarning chord within her - "obey".

Shehad never understood this. Mother and Father treated her, andKirana, and Seth, as people. "As we all are!" she muttered,as she decided to begin the hide leggings - the air did not feel asthough it would warm much, today.

Itwas not that her parents didn't know they were children; they werevery aware. They cared for her and her siblings; but they hadnever sought to control. How she spent her time, how Kirana andSeth did, was not according to Father or Mother's choice; butaccording to their own natures.

Shetried to imagine either of her parents trying to limit her behaviorif her life or someone's rights weren't at stake; or of them notknowing what her capabilities were.

Or,as she had seen in both the Untribed and human worlds, not seeming tocare what their children's preferences were, so long as they did asthey were told to do.

Itwould be best, she decided, as she thought about how to turn thehide scraps into leggings, to move forward cautiously, watching thepeople to try to get a sense of them before announcing her presenceand her lack of adult companionship - or her need for help.

Shedecided that the tiny, sharp cloven fawn hoof would do to puncturethe hides, and the thornless vine she'd collected yesterday wouldserve well to bind them, at least until she could collect and dryenough sinew to replace it.

Shefitted the scraps together until she had a sense of how to piecethem; then severed the hoof and used one of the rocks from her firering to drive the hoof into the hides, which she'd laid upon another,nearly flat rock she's chosen because it was a good work surface.

Sheneeded to set aside three small scraps that she destroyed in theprocess of learning the best approach for her punctures, and shethought she would have at least one bruise from where her hand hadslipped.

Butnow she knew how to strike the hoof, and how much of its point toallow to puncture the hide, and how far from the edge to strike. From that point, the work was simple, and she completedit before the sun rose redly into a sky that felt somehow heavy.

Next,she began to thread the vine through the holes, and, as she worked,she turned the seams inward, for added warmth. She would wearthem with the fur inside, and,if she could take a bear, she wouldbrush the outside with fat, so that she could wear them even in thewet.

Oncethey were finished, she ate two handfuls of dried nuts and berries,and then drank from her drinking jar. She decided that shewould eat no more of the provisions she'd brought until she hadforaged for replacements - something she would do as she movedtoward where the scent of people had come from, toward the water shecold both hear and smell, today.....

Sheplaced her coals, with more ashes, back into their lidded jar, andcarefully extinguished her fire. She slung three empty jars andone filled with water over her shoulder, strung on a length of thevine. She had another length to use to make some snares, if shefound any current runs.

Sheput on her outer tunic, then the grass one, and, finally, she wasready to try her new leggings. They fit a bit too loosely, butshe solved that by cinching them tightly with an extra wrap of vine. They would hold, for now, although she might need to tightenthem from time to time....and, once she had found a way to makethicker winter clothing, they should fit snugly.

Sheblocked the entrance to her cave after being certain she had left nomeat on the fawn's leg bone, and after having buried the bone itselfa short distance from the cave.

Shetook a moment to scent the air, which steamed as she breathed, eventhough the sun was well up, now. Yes, she could smell themclearly - but the scents of cookfires and untreated waste and animaldung told her that she would not be likely to find communicationsdevices among these people. Perhaps, then, she had landed in aprimitive zone - Earth had many, or so she seemed to remember Fathersaying - places where the people had decided to forgo technology andlive as their ancestors had.

Therewere a few such areas on Vulcan as well, but not many. MostVulcans followed a logical combination of technological and morenature-centered balance, using technology where it benefited most,but not wasting resources when a simpler approach would work as wellor better.

Amongthe Tribed and Untribed on Aletris, there were no such places. Therewas already a natural separation - the Huntlands were not a place foranything but the natural; although any Tribed could go to Osiiraanand stay as long as they wished, making use of the advancements thatwere becoming a part of everyday life, there. And the Untribedhad large tracts of land that were free for their own naturalpursuits - tamer ones than the Tribed tended to enjoy.

Shemoved cautiously, aware not only of the possibility that the bearmight be about, and take notice of her once again; but also becausewhere there was a settlement of people, there were very likely to bemore outside the borders of that settlement, and instinct was warningher that it was unwise to allow herself to be seen before sheunderstood the nature of these particular people, and whether theywould help her without taking her freedom.

Alongthe way, she dug four types of edible root, gathered nuts, and setthree snares where there was a tunneling path and fresh rabbitleavings. She noted two groundbird nests, although one appearedto have been unused for some time. Perhaps, though, she wouldhave a fat bird for her supper, tonight, as well as more feathers,which she was using, padded between woven grass, to make herself anovertunic designed for warmth, as her Vulcan ones were not.

Shecould see the river, glinting in occasional glimpses through thetrees, and the sounds and smells of people and tame animals werepungent, now, catching in her throat after the clean smells ofVulcan, and the scents of the wilderness she had inhabited for thelast week.

Tisirastopped, not wanting, illogical as it was after the week ofuncertainty, to get closer to the settlement, yet. It was loud,and it stank, even at this distance. The assault on her senses, sheknew, could only get worse as she came closer to where the peoplelived.

And,suddenly, she did not want to come any closer to such noisome,reeking creatures - because she could sense that they were a violent,thronging, ravenous lot....

"Prejudiceis judgment without adequate facts, Tisira. It is quite commonin childhood, and in those who do not value rational thought. It maybe wiser to consider IDIC and its meaning - infinite diversity ininfinite combination. Not all combinations will suit you, butall indeed have their place in reality, if they exist, and so,rationally, must be accepted."

Hehad said this the first time she traveled with him among humans,because she had found them odd in so many ways that she decided notto like any of them - except Kiral Leonard. It had perplexedher greatly to think that she, and Kirana, and Andrew, and evenFather himself, carried the blood of these objectionable beings. Itwas no wonder that Father had chosen instead to honor the Vulcan sideof his heritage....

"Buthow do I accept what I do not like?"

"Acceptancedoes not equate to preference, Tidira. It is possible to accepthumans as they are without choosing to be among them. ManyVulcans practice this, because humans tend to - unsettle them."

"Yes. That is how I feel. Unsettled - "

"Humanscan present quite a substantial challenge to one's logic,"Father had said, in that amused tone that said he was rememberingmany times when this had been so for him, all at once. "And,perhaps, although certainly unsettling, there is value in that. Sometimes, when one has been settled for too long, settlementbecomes stagnation."

"Soyou are saying I should go out among these humans, Father?"

"Iam not. I am saying, Tisira, that you may find them worthy ofstudy, and perhaps of companionship, as I have. Consider that,if Sarek your grandfather had not done so, I would not have beenborn. And, without the help of a great many humans, I would not havelived to find your mother, and our family - would not exist. *You*would not." He bent to stroke the backs of his fingersagainst her cheek - like a whisper, or a breeze. "If,as I have done, as Sarek has done, you choose to allow humans intoyour life, Tisira, you are quite likely to grow in ways you wouldnot, else, But only you can decide if that path is one yourfeet can tread."

Now,remembering Father's words, she reminded herself that he had beenright, in that instance. Once she had overcome her aversions tothe chaotic differences of the humans, she had found many of themmost likable. Their curiosity and determination reminded her ofVulcans, even if they were of a very different flavor; theycomplemented her own. The flights of fancy they took - whatFather referred to as "hunches" in a tone that said that,although he had much experience with this part of humanity, he hadnever fully understood or fully trusted it - often led her downtrails of thought she wouldn't have considered, herself.

"Maybeif I watch them from a distance," she mused. The trees grewtall, near the river, and she could take Lynxform and climb to whereshe could not be spotted or reached.

Atsuch a height, she would not need to be too close to the people, butshe could observe. Enough, perhaps, to be certain beyonddoubting that this was Earth, and where on Earth it was, andwhether it was safe to go as she was amongst these people.

And,while she was observing them, she could also observe the preyanimals, the vegetation, and the surrounding area.

Onceshe had the idea, she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her sooner. "Maybe only because I would not have been able to holdLynxform so long, before this," she told herself, thenremembered that it might not be wise to speak, here.

Shescouted the area for a likely tree. She needed one with low,sturdy branches to leap into - she was not yet strong enough in herHuntskills to make a vertical climb. And it needed to be tallenough to provide a good view. And to be an evergreen, becausethe leaves were mostly gone on those that shed them, and she wouldneed cover, lest these people thought her worthy of hunting.

Shefound a tree that looked like it would meet her needs, then spent amoment in review, to be sure she hadn't forgotten somethingimportant. Then, she settled her breath, focused on her innerHuntress, Changed, and leapt to a low, wide branch.

Thetree smelled sweetly green, which was most welcome after the risingstench of the settlement. Tisira leaned in close to the trunkand sniffed deeply, cleansing her nose and her mind of the worst ofthe people-stink.

But,as pleasant as it was to stay and simply breathe the life the treeexhaled, she knew that she would find no answers, here. No, shemust climb, and look, and see, and learn...

Astartled squawk of protest, and something small and grey zipped intoa hole not far from her ear. She had been so distracted by thescent of the tree that she had missed the scent of rodent.

Remindingherself to attend to where she was and what she intended to do,Tisira left off her sniffing and tipped her head back to examine thebranches above. She spotted a clear route up several branchesfrom where she now was, and made her way to the uppermost beforestopping to study the ground below, the trees surrounding, and themost likely path to climb the next several branches.

Ateach assent, she made a study of the ground below, what she could seeof the river and what seemed to be a walled settlement beyond, of thelife in her tree and those around it, and the route up through thebranches, taking note of any fallen or split branched that might posesome danger.

Thesmell was getting stronger as she climbed - the smell of ariver teeming with life, and of farm animals, and carrion, and fetidwaste of the kind only created by humanoid creatures....

Shehad never smelt anything like it, and she thought she might be illbecause of it. Her breakfast rose in her throat, and her eyesstung, and her stomach twisted in protest.

Whenshe needed to, she stopped, and huddled close to the tree, andbreathed in its life, until she could go on again.

Itwasn't logical, she realized, that this was a primitive settlement,on the Earth she knew. No Earth settlement, however primitive,would overlook the health and well-being of its people. Therewere too many ways to manage waste, from too many worlds, that wouldfit easily with a more natural living.

ThePridekeep was, by the agreement of all who chose to live there, keptcompletely natural. In the Pridekeep, today, things were asthey had always been, as she hoped they would always be, there. Andthere was never any such smell, nor the pall of an emotional sicknessso deep and wide that she could feel it from here, more sickeningeven than the smell.....

Tisiradidn't need to climb any higher to know that this was a place wherethe strong ruled over the weak for no other reason that they were thestronger, and that there would be wars and fighting and cruelty, in aplace such as this. She had read about such places, in booksFather had left in the basket above her cupboard...

Father. Her cupboard. The familiar basket of books, always full,always containing both old favorites and new promises, always readyfor her. And Father to read with her, to allow her to snuggleinto his lap, to allow her any flight of fantasy she wished, howeverillogical, during those reading times.

Father,who had said, often and incredibly, "Hold to your imagination,Tisira, and yet, let it fly free. It will lead you to worldsthat are yours, alone; it will sustain you if you are alone andlonely. It will make you far wiser and richer in soul thanlogic alone ever could. It is your birthright. And, if,one day, we are apart, and you wish we were not, you have only toimagine me, and you will have the comfort of my memory, if you cannothave my presence."

Hereyes were stinging more painfully now, but it was with the tears shecould not cry, in Lynxform.

Instead,she did as father had suggested, and held him in her imagination, asthough he was right here beside her (although that was illogical; shehad never seen him climb remotely as high as this),

To Boldly Go...My ROW80 Goals........

2012-01-02T05:31:00.001-05:00

I used to be the type of person who planned things. I would write up long lists of what I was going to do, filled with detail and blind ambition...

And then, I would lose the list, or get hung up reading for the whole day, or become frustrated by how much easier it was to think up and write down those demands of myself than it was to actually commit myself to the process of attaining them..

It's only now, a year or two after I stopped trying to create these huge to-do lists of things to cross off and keep myself busy with, that I'm beginning to understand why that was.

Every one of those lists were based on what I thought I was supposed to do. What I thought might make me look successful, responsible, intelligent, creative, or somehow or other cool to an audience that didn't have a face, but definitely had a presence, at least in my own mind.

So I would plan an impressive array of tasks for myself, and I would try (and always fail, in the end) to convince myself that I was enjoying the progress and the process.

But I know myself too well for that, and I suspect I always did. The little girl who drew horses in fifth grade, and who became the high school student who read Shakespeare at home, for fun, but Star Trek novels in class, during Shakespeare time, who wrote frighteningly bad fan erotica and decent poetry rather than make any real attempt to understand the abstract and honestly uninteresting to her world of trigonometry and pre-calculus, who stayed through three extra periods to work on an essay test on Brave New World, knew it.

The young woman who left a prestigious college a semester and a half into an English major (with a Professional Writing concentration), and then took a job as a lowly kennel helper for a local veterinarian, knew it.

The slightly older young woman who, after one fiance died, and another left, boarded a cross-country Amtrak, alone, to head to work at the Grand Canyon, where she knew no one, and was not sure there was a job waiting because she might conceivably have failed the required drug test she took prior to leaving, and who had only $50 to her name, and so ate snacks and little else for five straight days, knew it, too....

And finally, I have realized it on a conscious level, and can claim it, hopefully for the rest of my life....

When something fires my passion and my imagination, when it resonates with my soul and my nature, I will reach and stretch toward it exultantly, with a singing, soaring spirit.

And when it doesn't?

Well, I guess, looking back over my life, that I've never been willing to invest myself, not wholly and completely, into anything that doesn't hold deep intrinsic value to me, personally. I may go through the motions, but I am not present in the experience if I can't feel passionately that the effort is worth it - that any effort would be worth it.

Writing fills me, and fires my passions and imagination on many levels. I still write the fan erotica - and it's a lot better in my 40s than it was in my virginal teens. Every partner I have had, every experience, has deepened that writing, as it has my understanding of the multifaceted jewel sex can be. More than fourteen years of marriage, pregnancy, the births of three children, the death of one, the nursing and raising and growing together - and, sometimes, wrenchingly, apart - have made it richer than I ever could have imagined in those days before I had ever truly known sexual love, need, and longing....

Being a parent has thrown many things into focus, and some out of focus. I understand the challenges my own parents faced to a larger degree. I know the fear of tight finances, high fevers, the crack of a small head on a flat surface, and the impossible- to- put- true- words- to feeling of passing my 12 day old comatose son to my husband, so that he could die in his Daddy's arms. I live every day entangled in the living of two alive and passionate children, and with the quiet presence of the one who is not physically here, but can never be forgotten. Those things, too , have affected my writing, and my living.

We've chosen a divergent path in the raising of the two young humans who live here. There's more about that elsewhere on this blog, and anyone reading here for ROW80 is free to explore as they please. Passion and learning and connection and mutual respect are the philosophies we embrace. Neither Jeremiah, who is 10, nor Annalise, who is almost 7.5, have ever attended school. Lise has never had a formal, parent-enforced lesson on anything in her life.

Watching how they learn, how completely they give themselves to the myriad of passions they hold, has enriched my own understanding of my lifelong resistance to Doing What I Should.

They are fearless, relentless, and boundlessly enthusiastic about their passions. Their ideas are expansive and sometimes improbable (and I think sometimes they know it, but, like me chasing after Spock - in Lynxform, no less! - in my mind, they don't care, because the fantasy delights them and makes them more alive). They will use any resources at their disposal to learn more, to be able to do more, when they love something.

And they are also oddly realistic. They don't expect perfection - overnight or ever. They expect to get better if they keep trying. Sometimes, they know they need to STOP trying, and go do something else.

They don't try to hang on to passions they've outgrown, as so many adults seem to. They seem to have a deep understanding that life flows. and things change.

A year ago, maybe even six months ago, writing what I have written here, so far, in about twenty minutes, would likely have taken days of writing in tiny bursts.......I was needed by someone throughout most of my waking hours. Just lately, though, both children have begun to surge in their independence. They are eager and ready to take on more and more of the adult world, and my willingness to be there for them when they needed me has led to a certainty that I will still be, when they need me, or just want me near.

They are beginning to fledge feathers that will someday hold them, each in their own way and time, as they soar. There are years to go, but nowhere near as many as there once were....

And so, now it's time for me to molt the old and dingy feathers in my own life, to preen the new and shiny ones I've grown in their place, and begin taking small test flights higher and further into my own passions.....

What better place for me to begin than with the one passion that runs through, around, and beneath all others all aspects of my life? What better place than the deepest places I know within my own unique soul? No one else can ever take me there. Only I can.....

So, in accordance with my new intentions to do nothing that does not bring me joy (sometimes the joy will be the indirect result of bringing joy to another!), I didn't spend a lot of time contemplating what my goals for this, my very first Round Of Words, would be.

Instead, I let myself feel. My writing matters to me. Some is private, and I may never care to share that. But, the more I open up and speak my truth, the more I know I need to continue, and speak deeper truths as I realize them on my inward and outward journeys. When I do this, I am often compelled to share the words, and that has been powerful for others with truths similar to my own. When they share their feelings on my truth, I often understand my truth even more clearly, seen juxtaposed with theirs.

I have found healing in this, and so have others, and that is a good thing.

I love writing essays; I love writing fiction. For too long, I thought I needed to choose, that I needed to do some type of writing that fit under a specific label, and, for the most part, live there.

So these goals are more than goals. They are an affirmation to myself of what I value and who I am, right now. They are self-exploration, sharing, and flights of fantasy....

They are me.

They are part of my life.

I've made certain to make them meaty enough that I want to sink my fangs in and indulge myself in a sort of feeding frenzy. I've tried to set them with few enough moving parts that I can be here, when I need to be, for the people I have already committed my life to, and so I can do things like the homeschooling reporting that allows us the freedom to fully support our children's many passions.

Round of Words 80 Goals - Round 1, 2012:

I will write at least 10 essays and/ or photo essays, and post them publicly.

I started the page in the summer, when I made my first foray into Elance, and was looking to network more fully. Life intruded, and the page has been ignored for months. I will resurrect it, update it, and use it to recount my Various Adventures in Writing Land. Both the successes and missteps will be valuable to me; and they might be to others, too......

I imagine this goal will be the least labor intensive, requiring only random pieces of time as I have them to spare. It's more about returning that long-neglected orphan of a page to a state of kemptness and usefulness, and about publicly and unapologetically proclaiming myself as who and what I am - Shan Jeniah Burton, Writer).

Whew! That's all of them. I now prepare to edit, hit send, and commit myself for any and all to see!

Namaste!

Shan Jeniah =D

Testing, Exploring, Playing....

2011-12-31T00:42:00.000-05:00

'via Blog this'

Before, I've Always Played Along Nicely

2011-12-27T19:57:00.000-05:00

Me, in a red dress, at 3, playing along nicely, as expected.

***Before, I've always played along nicely.***

This post is my response to a meme that I read on another unschooling Mom's blog, Open-Hearted Life.

The rules for the meme are simple. All I had to do was go to my 23rd blog post , First Week of School? Not for Us! and copy and paste the fifth sentence.

Here it is again, in case you missed it:

Before, I've always played along nicely.

The point of the meme was to find your true nature and, -although this was a post involving the first week of school the year Annalise would have entered kindergarten, and my reflections on the differences in our lives because we did not send her - I think there is a lot of truth in the idea that this short sentence might offer a window into who I really am, not just at the point when I wrote that sentence - September 13, 2009 -, but also now, today, right where I am in the living of my life.

I spent nearly my entire childhood "playing along nicely". I was so accomplished at this, in fact, that my parents would assign me a seat between my warring older brother and sister when we went for car rides, because they knew that I wasn't likely to cause trouble. I was so accomplished at it that I continued the habit well into adulthood - so far into adulthood that I still sometimes need to slow down and examine my tendency to not say things that I really need to say, call people on treatment no one deserves, remember that everyone's pain and discomfort is not my fault, nor my responsibility.

Hanging with the goats at Catskill Game Farm....I was 11. I often found more comfort with animals than people, as a child, and well into adulthood.

Before, I've always played along nicely.

And, in so doing, I have neglected something that wound its way into the deepest places within my soul the first time I heard it, and has been with me, ever since...
.

This above all: to thine own self be true.

I thought that the playing along nicely was who I really was. The truth is, I do tend to be nice....I feel the emotional energy around me intensely, and respond equally intensely to it. Being unkind or unpleasant can make the energy around me decidedly - well, yucky. That energy twists into my guts and my mind and my soul. It's toxic. It kills me a little, every time I'm exposed to it. It's far, far worse to think that I have caused it.

Before, I've always played along nicely.

And so, not liking the volatile energy of my family of origin when it exploded, even when I wasn't directly involved in the resulting emotional carnage, I did the best I could, for most of my life, to appease it, to soothe it, to calm it down so that I could relax in peace and calm.

And when I couldn't appease it, when it did explode, as it inevitably did, in screaming, hitting, knocking down, dragging by the hair, humiliation, verbal cruelty, harsh punishments, icy silences that might last weeks, slammed doors, or hurled insults, I blamed myself. Surely I had caused that incendiary reaction, and certainly I should have been able to defuse the violent conflagration that followed.

Before, I've always played along nicely.

I am no more perfect than anyone else. I get angry, sometimes. Up until a few years ago, when I read several books specifically dealing with emotional, spiritual, and conscious living*,; I was as highly reactive as anyone else in my family of origin, and as defensive. Although my reactions generally fell into the "get quiet, refuse to talk to anyone, hide away and have a good cry while my soul lies in tatters from the attack", those were still very rending reactions, internally. They kept my hurt always at a simmer, because, most of the time, I would just end up pushing the bulk of those feelings down, because....

Before, I've always played along nicely.

There are people who have known me for a long time, and who would vouch for my being unwaveringly even-tempered and patient.

I am neither.

I've always described myself as having a remarkably long fuse. As a child, I once kept still while my sister slapped me 100 times. I know it was 100 because she counted aloud. She was still bigger than me, then, and often angry. I bore the brunt of her frustrations and hostile reactions to them. If I had tried to escape, she would still have caught me - we shared a room ,and there were no safe havens in our home, anywhere. It was easier to let her hit me, because I knew that, sooner or later, if I didn't react, she would have to stop. And, eventually, she did.

Before, I've always played along nicely.

I insisted on adopting Knock-Knock - not playing along nicely, that time.

Years later, when she and I shared an apartment - a cute little place that might have been filled with mutual love, respect, and enthusiasm as we took our places in the world of those who lived independently, but which instead devolved into a battleground where hostilities might commence anytime, with utterly no warning, since flashing reactivity is all either of us had ever known - I once hid in my room while she stood outside my locked door, hitting and shaking it, screaming obscenities and vulgar names at me the entire time...

When I finally could no longer bear it, when I whipped that door open, and flung her back into the opposite wall, I felt guilty at what I had done. I reasoned that I should have done more to control myself, to not react, to not, in the end, have resorted to violence. I should have kept the peace, and my self-control, because, of course -

Jeremiah, age 10, inverted.

Gappy grins from Annalise, age 7.

Before, I've always played along nicely.

And it occurs to me that I was raised and groomed to do so. It was more than my nature; it had become a survival tactic. There were many ways to play along nicely - I didn't make many waves. I wasn't quick to hit or scream, most of the time. I tried to be as sweet as I could. I spent countless hours in conversation with my mother, or rubbing her feet. If she needed me, if I helped her to feel heard and important, if I was agreeable, and not too loud, there were fewer frightening interactions.

But it made me a target for my siblings, and even my parents, at times. I think it was obvious from the time I was very small that I was a sensitive soul, and I could be easily wounded and kept in my place.

That's a part of playing along nicely, after all - playing along. No matter how you feel, you tend to make that less important than the other's feelings. You invalidate yourself, and subjugate yourself. You learn to make yourself small and still, like a camouflaged prey animal. When shadows pass over, you hope they won't notice you, won't find something you've failed at. You live a life edged in anxious uncertainty, knowing that your own emotions and body could, at any moment, become a battlefield.

Being true to ourselves on the Washington DC Metro, 2008

And when the explosions inevitably come, you blame yourself,as though there was something else you could have and should have done, as though you should control yourself even though the adults around you are clearly and terrifyingly not in control of themselves.

Now, writing it, I see immediately what an inverted and impossible view that is. Children raised by parents who cannot or do not control their violent emotions and reactions are far too busy trying to avoid becoming a target. Without an example of what non-reactivity looks like, without tools to deal with emotional storms, those storms will come, and wash them away.

It was not my responsibility to temper my parents' or siblings' emotions. It was my parents' responsibility to help their children learn to deal with strong emotions and violent impulses, and to find a balance that protected all their children from harming themselves, and from being harmed, by themselves, each other - and from the violent reactions of the parents, who,after all, are larger and far stronger when children are small.....

Yet, I was raised to believe that that was my responsibility, or, at least, it was my role within a family where everyone had a role. To soothe. To appease. To take the punishment and the ridicule. To do as I was told. To make others feel good about themselves, even when they were actively trying to make me feel that there was something wrong with me.

Being true to herself, red-tongued and soaking wet, talking with her cousin.

Before, I've always played along nicely.
But I have come to the point, during the last several years, where I no longer can.

As we've moved further and further toward establishing and maintaining a harmonious marriage, family, and home, I have learned, more and more, how to treat my children, my husband, and myself with gentleness, kindness, trust, and respect. The journey hasn't been an easy or smooth one; none of these were regularly part of my own childhood. We were, in general, assumed to be either up to no good, or about to be. There were a good many rules, and often harsh and humiliating punishments meted out for going afoul of them - or even having been presumed to have run afoul of one. My parents, although their love for each other was evident, just as their love for us was, did not value or respect their differences. There would be harsh words and hostility over such things as whether the Yankees or the Dodgers were the better baseball team, or who was going to vote for whom for President, or any other matter upon which they didn't agree and wouldn't simply accept that they each held their own opinion for their own reasons.

Often, I acted as something of a calm go-between for them; yet another way I played along nicely and tried to make myself useful and necessary.

Being true to himself can mean 8 hours of odd jobs after 3 hours of sleep.

It was not at all an uncommon occurrence, in my childhood, to be severely and sometimes violently punished for an infraction that wouldn't have been considered one, if the punishing parent hadn't been angry, or frustrated.....

While I was living it, and while I was enacting the same types of patterns within my own family, I did not yet know that, in abusive situations, the victim is not the cause of the abuse. They are only the trigger; however, the abuser is not likely to understand that on a conscious level. They believe they are acting in a fair and just manner, that the abuse is the "logical consequence" for the "bad behavior."

When one partner in a marriage does this to the other, no rational adult would call it anything but abuse.

But when a parent does such things to their child.....

Too often, those on the outside never see it, and never suspect. Children who love and desperately need to trust parents that they cannot truly trust are in a hugely vulnerable situation. They are also young, and their minds easily convinced that they are at fault, which brings a certain shame. And the abusers - who have almost certainly also been abused, by others who were abused - cultivate this feeling, because only secrecy allows them the outlet they need for their own pain and frustration and fury.

I experience the memories of those years, today, as a sort of Stockholm Syndrome wherein my main focus was protecting myself from bullying, manipulation, humiliation, and outright abuse as best as I could. While I was within that dynamic, still neeeding the love and approval of my parents and my sister, my physical and emotional safety still depending on keeping them happy, I could not see the ways in which I was being manipulated to feed their own emotional needs, at the expense of my own.

I only knew that people that I loved, that I wanted desperately to like as much as I had when I was very small, who were bigger and more powerful than I was, could and would willfully hurt me. And I knew that when they did it, they enjoyed it. There is no way I could mistake that. I feel the energy around me as surely and palpably as I feel the press of the computer keys beneath my fingers, right now. I could read the glee in their eyes - not glee at hurting me - in those moments, I do not believe I registered as a person on their psyches, because I do not believe these people to be capable of hurting someone they saw, in that moment, as equally as human as they are.

No. I was a proxy, I believe, for their pain; their need to strike back at those who had hurt them, soul-deep. I paid the price, but it wasn't intended for me. It was pain and hurt and rage that had been crushed too far inward for far too long, and, when the pressure became too great, they exploded outward, and I was collateral damage.

The fact that I played along is proof of the wounding. Why would someone play along, being as sweet and unobtrusive as they could manage? And still, I was, always demanding more of myself; nothing less that perfection was acceptable, as though, somehow, .perfection would save me, if only I could attain it.

The cruellest punishment ever inflicted upon me was not a physical one, not yelling, not shaming, even. No:

It was the certainty I carried so long that, because I was not perfect, I was worthy of nothing better.

Emotionally healthy people do not play along, let themselves be damaged by another's pain and woundedness. They can see it for what it is, and understand that they are responsible for their actions and reactions, and do not own the actions and reactions of anyone else.

This above all - to thine own self be true.

Emotionally healthy people know that no person is perfect, and that there is a certain unspoken arrogance in
expecting oneself to be perfect.

They know that their self - those characteristics and combinations that make them unique in all of existence - are all they have to offer up to the world.

And they know that, if they do it freely and honestly, it is enough.

They know that what they offer will suit some, and not others. They are not offended by those who find little value in their offerings, nor are they angered at those whose offerings so not suit them. They respond with civility to those who are civil. They learn to distance themselves from the hostile who seem to find their very existence an offense. They don't play along at the cost of joy, peace, or selfness.

They are whole - or as whole as they can become, with the damage they have sustained.

I will never play along again. The cost is far, far, too high. It is my self, my soul, and my peace -

And that ripples outward from me, in ways that are obvious - snapping at my husband, denying my children their simple requests, a lack of patience on the roads or in the stores, a general apathy to the needs and emotions of others.

It doesn't make the world a better place. It doesn't serve peace, or joy, of selfness.

No. No more.

For me, now, there is instead the message I knew was meant for me, when I was 9 years old.
This above all - to thine own self be true.
If something in myself, as I am, resonates with you, I am touched. If something in me spurs you to defensive anger, it may not have as much to do with me as it does with the hurt within yourself that you are as yet unwilling or unable to face.

If I have wronged you, I will apologize. I will not, however, accept punishment from you. If I have hurt you, I have not done so with intention, and will do the best I am able to make things right, between us. If you have wronged me, I will forgive, but, if there is a pattern of cruelty, I won't forget. If I try to resolve this with you, but you will not respect my right to my own opinions and my own life,. you will perhaps stop being a part of my life.

I do not do this to punish, and I would not. I do it to protect my right to simply be my self, truly. I do it to spare us both the pain and hostility of interacting with one another. I do it to preserve peace within my family and within myself.

I do it because to do otherwise is not, and never has been, true to myself.

Baby me - at 9 months, I was still true to myself.

And that is reason enough.

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

*Book list cited above included:
Anger, by Thich Nhat Hahn; Living a Gentle Passionate Life, by Robert J. Wicks;
Dance of the Dissident Daughter, by Sue Monk Kidd; Emotional Vampires, by Albert J. Bernstein; Thank You for Being So Difficult, by Mark I. Rosen; Zen: Its History and Teachings, by Osho; Succukent Wild Woman, by Sark; The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present in the Life You Have, by Mark Nepo; and A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose and The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment, both by Eckhart Tolle.

Getting Ready for Christmas Day....

2011-12-26T22:01:00.000-05:00

In past years - even up till last year, honestly - I carried on the holiday pattern I was raised with. Christmas was a pageant, with the common areas of the house resembling a Christmas gift shop - tchotkes and decorations covering every surface, on the tree, even on the walls. Huge secrets and plotting, deep cleaning of the entire house, the major events of hunting for a tree, getting the tree into the house, wrapping, and the cooking and serving of an elaborate family meal, then the cleanup of masses of dishes while my grandfather showed his family film reels and dessert was served, which was the culmination of a day when our house was nearly bursting with people -

I remember there being a lot of stress, a lot of yelling, a lot of extra chores, and a lot less patience. I remember threats, and the guilt of realizing that I didn't believe in Santa Claus anymore, and knowing that my mother wanted and expected me to....

There were sweet memories. The scratchy old stereo record player spinning Bing Crosby's White Christmas album, or the radio playing country Christmas songs....I sat on the floor, ear against the speaker, singing along, and loving Jingle Bell Dogs and The Christmas Guest, especially. My father would open the center cabinet, and the seldom-used bar would be revealed, and the annual ritual of washing all the glasses and bottles - and once or twice, a trip to the fascinatingly just-for-grownups world of the liquor store - and hearing the stories, touching the labels, smelling, watching the light shine through the splatter-painted, oddly shaped glass decanter.....my mother making eggnog, and my father leaving Santa a beer....the times my mother read the story of Jesus's birth from her Bible, which she's had since she was a girl. Christmas specials watched all together, as the tree twinkled and spread green magic through our home.

Christmas - all holidays, really - were productions. Showmanship ruled the day. The house must be perfect, the tree must be bigger, fatter, and more filled with ornaments than anyone else's was, the gifts must stun, and there must be far more food, in quantity and variety and quality, than we had on regular days.

And the family would be invited, no matter the tensions or animosities between specific members, no matter how quickly our home filled up with people and noise and volatile energy. There were always passive-aggressive interactions, and sometimes open hostility broke out.

It was always too much for me, at some point. I would have gorged on the crackers, cheeses, fruits, breads, soda, and sweets we seldom had, else, and little besides them. I would have been surrounded by people, some of whom I honestly didn't like very much. I would begin to feel a little sick, a little trapped, and fully overwhelmed. I was looking for magic, and fun, and calm spaces, but I had no words to give to these alien concepts, at the time....now, though, I have images that express it more fully than words ever could....

When I was younger, I would go hide in the bathroom, or, when I got desperate for space and quiet, and could manage it, to my bed to read or sleep or pretend to be somewhere else. As I got older, I went for long walks out in the cold air, or I would write - and I could close the door, and shut out some of the noise and energy.

I expect that my Christmases were not much different from those of many people reading this. I didn't think much about it at the time. I come from a highly reactive family, and, absorbing that through every pore and within every experience, I was too busy reacting to wonder why the holidays always carried with them this air of discomfort and unease and the need to be particularly wary....no matter how lovely the lights and ornaments I wasn't allowed to touch; no matter the deliciousness of the rare treats, which I was once punished for squirreling away in my room to enjoy on some day that wasn't a holiday; no matter how much I loved and sought the affection of the assembled adults, who could become unkind or angry without warning; no matter how much I enjoyed the company of other children, who could also become unkind or angry without warning, who sometimes bossed and teased and bullied, and treated my things like their own....

And, when I grew up, not knowing the source of that unease, I carried those patterns forward into my own life. When I married a man who doesn't like a Christmas crowded with lights, decorations, carols, shopping, gifts, and bills, I thought that there was something fundamentally wrong with his attitude and preferences, and that, of course, he would change his wrong thinking when he saw what I did with Christmas. And so I threw myself wholeheartedly into convincing him, decorated nearly every square inch of the small (21 foot) travel trailer that was our home....

And I overwhelmed and disrespected his preferences in the process. This led to frustration, and arguments, and hurt feelings, and our relationship was being damaged every year, as I overdecorated, overscheduled, overscripted, and overspent.

I thought I was making the perfect Christmas, just as my parents had, before me. I thought that was what I was supposed to do, for my children.

I couldn't see that I wasn't doing it for Jeremiah or Annalise. I certainly wasn't doing it for Jim - although I denied it for years, I knew that much early on.

I wasn't even doing it for myself - because what I wanted, all along, deep inside, felt a lot more like this...the freedom to choose my own place, to touch, to decorate as I pleased, to be without obligation...
I was doing it for Them. Because I thought I was Supposed To. That, if I didn't do Christmas the Right Way - with mountains of decorations, presents, food, obligations and bills - it somehow Didn't Count.

Another part of the paradigm shift that came with unschooling, for me, was a huge change in the way I saw holidays, and the part I and my family played in the celebrations....

And then it occurred to me that that was the problem. I had assigned us all roles in a staged production, very much the way I had been assigned a role in my mother's staged productions. Just as families and individuals all over the country assign themselves and their loved ones a role in the production of their holiday....

It's obvious in the ads urging us to hurry-up-and-shop-the time-is-running-out-it's-our-biggest-sale-on-all-the-must-have-items-pay-later-with-our-handy-layawy-or store-credit-card-buy-NOW-to-make-it-a-merry-Christmas-and-outwit-Santa-Claus.

Slowly, though, I began to reclaim Christmas, for us, in a way that was meaningful and magical, to us.

First, we stepped away from most of the family gatherings, and gifts purchased only out of a sense of duty or obligation, to have something to offer. We prefer instead to offer ourselves and gifts up sincerely, and not to pretend feelings that we don't have, or to spend money we don't have, either.

We began saying yes to more of the children's requests throughout the year. Now, in our third Christmas of unschooling, both children know that, although we have never had a lot in the way of discretionary income, if we can find a way for our budget to provide something they desire, we will. They are willing to own many items purchased at thrift stores, garage sales, or used on Ebay, and to have older models of most things. Jeremiah has been willing to work odd jobs to earn money for a major purpose our budget couldn't support. Both children have saved their allowances for months in order to use that money on a large purchase they'd been planning for....things like games systems and fancy Halloween costumes with all the props.

We had intended, by doing this, to fill them up with the certainty of our positive regard, to help balance the gulf of ability to get things for yourself that exists between adults and children. In the same way that they are welcome to help themselves to whatever foods they want, to use whatever electronic media they wish, to sleep when and where they choose, we were giving them power in their own lives, and letting them know that we believe in their ability to choose for themselves.

As a by-product of our increased generosity, there seems to be a lessening, every year, of the focus on what they will receive, as well as an increased understanding of what is involved in fulfilling their wishes. Jeremiah was very helpful, this year, by sending me links to the specific items he wanted. He knew what things cost and what was a good deal, and he expressed concern about the fact that his list amounted to more money than he was personally comfortable with (although we have spent more, every other year, even with the few surprises we added this year).

Annalise was willing, this year, to wait a month or two for a very special gift she decided she wanted only a few weeks before Christmas. She made a detailed list of what she would like, but didn't expect to get everything on that list.

This year, Jeremiah is 10, and Annalise is 7.

And our Christmas is truly about them, and us, and spreading love and kindness outward into the world, and about acknowledging our personal passions and gifts, and sharing them, giving them back to the world freely and joyfully. It's about magic - not magic defined by expectation or obligation, but by us.

I've realized that, with two minimalists in the family, less is definitely more, for us. Too many things to look at and listen to, for all of us, are disquieting. A few choice items, carefully placed, with space between, allow room to enjoy the holiday flavor, or the comfort of everyday life. Everyone can be part of the decorating, or not, as they wish.

We like our holidays simple and without fuss. We love spending time with friends, like during our trip to New Jersey to celebrate with our friends, the Woodman family. Cookie decorating parties and ice skating, and even a bit of thrift store holiday shopping for me. Coffee, kitchen floor art, Nerf battles,conversation, and easy companionship for all ; or when our friends Mary, Elsie (10), and Christopher (8) came to visit. Mary indulged her passion for gift-wrapping, and we chatted while she helped me cross something off my to-do list, and the four children played, read together, and even made a smoothie.

Rather than exerting ourselves in a deep cleaning, we aim for an acceptable-for-all-of-us degree of tidy, with ongoing deep-cleaning projects throughout the winter months. So our tree was lovingly set up and adorned upon a bare plywood floor - reflooring is slated to begin within the next few weeks, when the proper combination of time and creative impulse strikes me. The floor was clean, and we laid an Asian-style runner carpet diagonally across it, but didn't fuss about the floor.....largely because we no longer invite the type of guest who would judge our home on its unfinished and imperfect bits rather than its atmosphere of love, learning, joy, and peaceful coexistence.

The tree and the decorations become a canvas for all of us to play with, or not, as we wish. I'm one of four people who live here; I have one of four opinions here of what looks beautiful. Learning to make room for the other three opinions to be expressed hasn't been easy, especially with my just-so holiday upbringing, and it's meant that. sometimes, I sit back and just let things happen; just let them be, without any attempt to control or direct them.

By reclaiming our holidays, by making them truly what we want them to be, we've given them a luster and life they didn't have, in those Supposed-To days. Instead of all those rushing-around errands, going to places where the energy and dynamics are more disturbing than joyous, by living all through the year sharing our gifts with one another and the wider world, we simply do as we feel, each of us moving through the weeks before Christmas in our own way, at our own pace, yet together, too.

This isn't intended to say that anyone else should live their holidays the way we do. We are ourselves; no one else is. What is perfectly suited to us might be wholly unworkable, or downright unpleasant, for others. Many people, some of whom we love dearly, do not celebrate Christmas at all. None of these specifics apply to their lives.

What I am suggesting is that if Christmas celebrations (or any other aspect of your life, really), causes a ratcheting-up of tension, perhaps that's a sign that your idea of what that part of your living is Supposed To be has gotten in the way of living that part of life in a way that's meaningful and fulfilling to you.

I wish everyone - whether I know you or not; whether we get along or not, a joyous Everyday. =D

Cousin Cameron Turns 11!

2011-12-18T15:30:00.001-05:00

One of the highlights of the beginning of summer, for us, is Cameron's birthday. You see, Cameron has two grown brothers and a much younger little sister, and he's just 14 months older than Jeremiah. The boys have been best friends since they were 2 and 3, and Cam fits in with our family so well that we invite him to spend several days with us at least twice a year. When he's with us, it's kind of like Miah and Lise have a big brother to look up to, and kind of like they're just all equals...

Cameron also loves to learn as much as Miah and Lise do, and loves going to the state museum and the YMCA with us, both things he doesn't get as many chances to do at home. He's willing to try other museums and attractions, too, and he's really, REALLY funny!

Since his birthday falls just after the end of his school year, his party also always signals the beginning of the time when we will have LOTS of Cam access, just as Jeremiah's signals the return to Cam's school schedule....

And when we're together, during those wonderful summer months, school things fall away, and the children become as they were meant to be - just themselves, without the impositions school forces upon them....

And that is a beautiful, brilliant, messy, awesome and inspiring thing to be a part of!

Enjoy!!!

Halloween in New Jersey - Oct. 28-31, 2011

2011-12-18T00:49:00.000-05:00

It is amazing to have so much chosen family scattered across several states (and counting!). It can also be hard, especially when the friends you really want to see live a hefty four hour commute from home.....

More and more, we are planning road trips to Massachusetts and New Jersey, where we have friends we connect deeply with, but who are too far for spur-of-the moment adventures....

At NEUC, Gabriella Woodman and Annalise hatched a plan to get together again at Halloween, so that they could trick or treat together. Since our rather rural area requires driving, and since that had lost its charm for the kids, Jim and I decided that he could manage without the car so that the kids and I could travel to New Jersey ( we don't mind long drives,Sylvia is an awesome hostess with a big house, and Jim would rather ride his motorcycle, so it all works out beautifully.

So we packed our bags and some favorite toys (Annalise) and games (Jeremiah), and headed out......arriving many hours later, because I have a rare knack for getting lost, which of course leads to all sorts of adventure along the way to pretty much anywhere.....

And we were greeted, with loving open arms, a warm, cozy house, and the type of deep and easy friendship that simply picks up right where it left off the last time, only better.

This stands, as so many things in my life so happily do, in bright and glorious contrast to the way things were within my own family of origin.

We arrived at the Woodman's at around 9pm...we had planned to be there somewhere around 4ish. As I was trying to unravel the unintentional tangles I had put into our route, we didn't take time to call and explain our delay....we were simply focused on making it safely to our destination.

Sylvia called just as we were getting into her town, and she and the kids chatted and confirmed the last few turns for me.

In less than five minutes from our arrival, Jeremiah, 10, and Harry, age 5, were playing a Nerf gun war with Sylvia's husband, Jim, and Annalise and Gabriella, both 7, were dangling stuffed animals from the stairs and creating loveliness at the kitchen-floor art studio.

And I was seated comfortably at the pleasantly life-strewn kitchen table, with a cup of coffee just the way I like it, an ibuprofen for my throbbing right knee (it has begun not liking long drives, and will tell me so), and a tall glass of cold water.

Over the next days, there was bread making, pizza making, French toast, pancake, and sausage making, Nerf gun warring, games playing, baby and stuffed animal and snow play, swinging and hanging, walking, trips to the thrift store and farmer's market and Halo Dairy. There was an art class at an Audubon nature center for Annalise and Gabriella, and a karate class party for Harry and Jeremiah.

There was talk, and laughter, arguments, and making up. The girls took a lot of baths in the magnificent claw foot tub, under a Van Gogh print, and made it there spa. The boys explored Wii games, Jeremiah's new 3DS, Plants vs. Zombies......Phineas and Ferb, Spongebob, Horseland, Powerpuff Girls and Fred 2 were enjoyed by some or all of us., I browsed the lending library, and finally read some John Holt books: Learning All the Time, and How Children Learn.
Annalise began reading in earnest, staring intently at the game boxes on the shelf. Some or all of us played Sorry!, Battleship, and belly-laugh inducing rounds of Banangrams (this was a new game for the children and I, and we were all hooked!).

We were having such a good time, in fact, that I only took a few pictures during the weekend.....

This trip brought into clear focus a part of what has kept me, over the last several years if not longer, from feeling comfortable, welcome, or at home in the house I grew up in, and where my parents still live.

I am reminded of a specific event - Christmas Eve, three years ago. My parents had called to ask (well, it was a thinly veiled command, really) us to come down (we live just up the road), so that we could hang our stockings. Jim and I had been protesting for years that we didn't need stockings, but the traditionhad eon out, so far.

I prefer making personalized gifts to shopping in crowded stores, and had gotten my first laptop computer just a few weeks before. Since my parents weren't online, and I take a great many digital photographs in the course of our living, I thought I would make DVDs of some of the best shots.

It was a fantastic idea, but, as I had never before done anything like this solo, and the computer was still very new to me, there was a pretty steep learning curve for the project, and what I thought might take a week or two of pulling and editing pictures, captioning, and burning, became a PROJECT that consumed all the time I could give it and clamored for more, more, more.....

When I ran out of DVDs (which were also taking hours a piece to burn; something else I hadn't anticipated....) on Christmas Eve, Jim took the kids out to the store to buy more.

So Jim went. but, at 7 and 4, the kids were not nearly as easy to get quickly through a store, and, if they had been home, I would very likely have gotten next to nothing of the project tended to.....

The kids being with Jim, though, meant that things would be slower on that end of things.....and they were.

By the time we made it to my parents' house with the freshly burned DVD, we were running 3 hours late. I was frazzled in the way I think only mothers who are trying to be everything to everyone, all at once and perfectly, can be frazzled.

What I needed was to be welcomed inside, met with Christmas cheer and the warmth of my loving family.

What I got was a frosty reception, and the definite feeling that, because we were running late, we were no longer welcome. It didn't seem to matter that the purpose of the visit was ostensibly to hang stockings and exchange gifts. Our gifts were barely glanced at.

My mother barely cracked a smile, even at the children. and her responses were either grunts or sighs, acerbic, or nonexistent.

It was days later when I found out, through my father, that, although we had spoken on the phone twice during the time I was finishing the project, and although she had said it was all right that we were running late, she was actually furious about it, because they had had other things to do, and we were holding them up.

It wasn't a pleasant visit, and, the next year, I did not go with Jim and the kids for the Christmas visit.

I understand that my mother and father had other plans,. and our delays posed an inconvenience. I had even asked my mother if she still wanted us to come, due to the lateness, and she had insisted that she did.

It would have been simpler for me, if we'd waited, because I would have had plenty of time to finish the project in a leisurely and enjoyable way, and it would have given more time for the many things I still needed to tend to to make Jeremiah and Annalise's Christmas magical. Truthfully, I hadn't been eager to go, wanting the time to have a mellow evening with my own family, and the joy of being all together.

But I had wanted to please my mother, and so we had gone....

And been snared by her passive-aggressive, "I don't really care whether you're here or not," reception.

I have come to a place in my life where I choose, without anger or guilt, to be where I am truly wanted. Where people know that I do my best to keep my commitments, and that life with children is by nature unpredictable. Where things not falling into line is not seen as disrespect, but as something we've all experienced from time to time.

Where I am welcomed, even when I'm late and frazzled, with love and kindness and acceptance.....

Now I leave you with the end of that wonderful weekend with the Woodmans' - trick- or treating! =D

Northeast Unschooling Conference and Tropical Storm Irene - August 26-28, 2011

2011-12-17T02:41:00.000-05:00

August 26, 2011 found Jeremiah, Annalise, and I returning to the Sheraton Colonial Hotel in Wakefield, Massachusetts, for our second trip to the Northeast Unschooling Conference (NEUC).

We set our plans in motion in February, before we had any idea that there would be a hurricane bearing down on the upper portions of the Eastern Seaboard during our visit....

But, a little more than a week before the conference was due to begin, we learned that Hurricane Irene was headed toward Boston, and was also likely to affect our home in Saratoga County, New York, although we are generally not in a hurricane zone.

These facts kept us debating whether to do as we'd planned, or cancel our trip. We watched a lot of weather reports, on assorted channels, and did a lot of talking about the options. At one point, Annalise felt she didn't want to go, but that she would really, really feel sad about missing the conference.

Ultimately, we decided we would go, with the understanding that we would leave if anyone felt too uncomfortable with the weather situation as it evolved. The storm was not predicted to reach us before Sunday morning, so we felt that we would regret not going at all. I would pay close attention to the weather, and they could, too, if they wanted, and I would share with them if they wanted me to.

And so we went, on a beautiful Thursday morning. It was impossible to believe an enormous storm was only days away from us.

We settled into the hotel - with me implementing a few systems to keep myself from losing my cool, as I did a few times last year and the kids alternately amusing themselves with the cable channels we don't get; checking out the hotel, the raffle items and Instant Gratification Table, meeting up with friends; and checking out the vendor tables, funshops, activity rooms, and where their friends' rooms were.

We spent time, over the next days, in the Art Room, the Toy Room, and the computer Kiosk in the lobby. Jeremiah enjoyed ample quantities of Cartoon Network. Annalise sampled funshops on Perler beads, fairy wand and gnome making, graham cracker houses, and others I've since forgotten. We all had time to talk and play with friends; Annalise was taken out to lunch by her friend Gabriella and her family, and both children had a tour of the Unschool Bus.

Friday night found us at the talent show, where Annalise performed an equestrienne show with her stick unicorn, Sea Breeze, and where I sang solo before an audience for the first time, with the accompaniment of the talented and generous Julian Baptista. Jeremiah was an enthusiastic spectator.

All the while, I was watching the weather reports, mostly after the children went to sleep, or when I was in the room and they weren't. All hope that the storm would veer out to sea vanished, and, in the wee hours, we were all uncomfortable enough to decide to leave early. As the sole driver, I chose 10pm Saturday night - time enough to enjoy Saturday activities and free time, say goodbye to friends (the Woodman family left at noon; making it easier to say goodbye ourselves, later), and yet still have a fair safety margin in which to get home, unpacked, and settled in for the duration.

So, in odd moments beginning at about 2am Saturday, I began packing up our things and moving them out to the car. I've found it's easier for me to do most things in short bursts to avoid overwhelm.

I also made it a point to attend those talks I had most wanted to get to, and to give myself permission to take time to stop and chat with friends along the way, to avoid a case of the martyr syndrome uglies that are so common in my family of origin, and which still trip me up far more often than I would like.

I attended a talk by Peter Gray, acircle chat on tweens hosted by Kelly Lovejoy, and an excellent panel discussion with grown unschoolers Idzie Desmarais, Chelsea LaPorte, and Julian Baptista..

We don't prefer our hotel rooms to be cleaned during our stay, and the Sheraton, which is making efforts to lower its carbon footprint, gives us a voucher for doing without. Last year, we ordered room service. This year, we decided to eat in the lounge restaurant, which is cozy and quiet.

Lise finished quickly and wanted to go catch the end of the concert and the beginning of the dance. Jeremiah and I, preferring to linger a little longer, did just that. Then he had a bit of time to help me check out of the room - just as some Air National Guardsmen were checking in, for potential disaster relief, which further spurred our urge to get on the road - and say his goodbyes.

Jeremiah went ahead to the car - he was tired and wanted to settle in for the four hour drive home - and I went back inside to gather Annalise from the dance floor. Saying goodbye was hard; she had been with a group of friends all dancing together. Last year, it would have been hard to deal with her hesitancy, and to understand that, much as she didn't want to be there when the storm came, she still needed more time to separate than the rest of us did.

This year, I was able to give her the fifteen minutes or so she needed without stressing myself out over it, and, later, when we stopped for gas and rest rooms, I was also able to say yes to a few small souvenirs and snacks, without feeling I had to rush the children along....

We made it home at about 3am. The Mass Turnpike had waived its tolls, in the hopes that it would speed people home. (The New York Thruway, though, did not). It was windy and raining, but not npleasantly so, and we were able to get the car unloaded and everything inside, if not unpacked....

We woke Jim upon coming in, and we were all tired, and slept within an hour or two.

As I slept, I could hear the wind and rain strengthening, and we woke to a bona fide storm. Irene had blown herself into a more submissive, but still powerful, tropical storm.

We kept our windows open to the fresh, rain-laden wind, which carried hints of far places upon it. And, since the storm was not posing a threat to us, I took some commemorative photos.....

Sunnyside Gardens and Liberty Ridge Farm - October 2011

2011-12-15T18:14:00.000-05:00

When I began recording bits of our lives here, I had this grandiose idea that it would be all neatly organized, chronological, expertly laid out, and - well perfect.

And it is perfect - a perfect representation of our ever-changing, swirly, flowy, messy, creative, just-as-it-is life. The kids are not posed or perfectly dressed - often, they look like vagabonds, caught in the act of whatever act they happened to be in the middle of.

Anyone who knows us knows that they each have their own style, and it's not going to be featured in Vogue this month.....

And anyone who knows us also knows the one thing Annalise and Jeremiah wear more often than anything else - those big, bright, beautiful grins, smiles, dimples, and sparkling eyes...

The eyes of people who are, the vast majority of the time, loving the life they live, and living a life they love.

I've begun to notice that I'm wearing smiles and sparkles more these days, too. So is Jim.

I used to worry about the rumpled and mismatchedness of us. And now I don't.

It may not be your style, and that's OK. It is our style. We each wear clothing for ourselves. We each have our own style, preferences, and needs.

As you see us, so we are. Not fancy, not terribly concerned with how we looks from the outside in, because we are all living from the inside out kinds of lives....

So here we are again. on recent trips we took with our homeschool group, the Live and Learn Homeschool Co-op....

First, we visited Sunnyside Gardens, where we toured fanciful art displays, fall produce and flowers, a model train track, carnivorous and succulent plants; sampled delicious baked goods; and lingered in the Butterfly House......

The next week found our group at Liberty Ridge Farm, exploring farm displays, the laws of physics, and many physical activities - pedal cars, giant hamster wheels, a jumping pillow, a corn crib, and more...

So, as I deepen in my own acceptance of our life as it is, and let go of striving for some level of perfection that is not and cannot be a part of our free-spirited, passionate, engaged, joyful, brimming-over lives, I realize that this blog as as much a living record of our lives as we are.....

So the posts might not be perfectly edited or laid out. My themes and headers may be behind or ahead of the seasons. I might post from winter one day, and summer the next. There will be typos.....there will be mistakes.

And there will be joy, and peace in the writing.....

I accept us, as we are, in this moment..........and I delight in and value this part of our living.

Namaste

Weekend in New Jersey.....Cookies and Art and Ice Skating, Oh My!

2011-12-14T02:46:00.001-05:00

This past weekend (December 10-12, 2011), Jeremiah, Annalise and I traveled to New Jersey to visit with our friends the Woodman family.

This purpose of the visit was to attend the annual Cookie Decorating Party, which was Sunday afternoon. I enjoyed being able to help clean up and get ready for the party, and the children enjoyed a visit with dear friends.

Annalise and Gabriella, both 7, enjoyed playing with stuffed animals, fashion shows, copious artistic creations, sleepovers, stories, Powerpuff Girls and Horseland, walks around the block, and a trip to the store.

Jeremiah, 10, and Harry, 5 and a half, enjoyed Kirby's Epic Yarns, Swordfighter, and other Wii games, Pokemon Black (The Movie), Nerf gun Battles, board games, Phineas and Ferb, and the treadmill.

The Cookie Decorating Party was full of new wonderful people to meet, children of all ages, sweet cookies and savory accompaniments, cider and hot cocoa and homebrewed beer, play and laughter and conversation and carols, and the tickling of the keys of the baby grand in the living room.....

The time passed in a whirl of activity.....

When we realized that Jim could ride his motorcycle to his regular Monday workout, we had the opportunity to accept Sylvia's invitation to join in for her homeschool group's ice skating day at a local rink. The kids decided that they would love to go, and so we did.....

Jeremiah had been skating once before, when he was 3, and had immediately taken to it. He enjoyed reacquainting himself, but was tired from several late nights, early mornings, and busy days, so skated for about 20 minutes.

Annalise had never been on ice skates before. Balance, however, is definitely something she has an affinity for. After I helped her securely into her rented skates and she put on pads and a helmet for safety, she asked me to guide her down the ramp to the ice...and then, along with Gabriella and new friend Paige, she was off. Within minutes, with two friends to give her tips and help her up when she fell, she was off in the center of the rink. She found a rhythm, learned a bit about how to fall, a bit about how to get up, that others are usually eager to help a beginner, to do a figure eights and a slow spin and how to catch her balance and to stop - and that she loves to skate.

She stayed on the ice until it was time for the Zamboni, and then we watched through the window, learning what, exactly, is done to refresh the ice.

I'm adding a video here, of Lise skating, spinning, falling and recovering....I just figured out how to do this here, and I am excited to share a more kinetic and articulate version of this kinetic and articulate girl, in a way still shots never could....

After skating, we began our four hour journey home, with warm, full hearts and stories to tell, and memories to cherish.....

Season of Change - and of Catching Up

2011-12-09T15:07:00.001-05:00

Again, we are deep into fall, and the season of transition as we move from outdoor pursuits to indoor comforts. Life has been busy with rearranging and repurposing rooms; adding a couch; cleaning, organizing, and purging outgrown and unwanted items from our lives; making sure everyone has the clothing they need to be warm and cozy in the winter months - both kids have grown inches since last fall; preparing for the upcoming holidays; dealing with the fallout of yet more chaos from my family of origin, in the form of another visit from Child Protective Services to address invented claims that the children "aren't in school and there is no alternative education being provided" and that "there is dog urine and excrement all over the house", and yet more illegal demands made by the school superintendent of our local school district, who is charged with reviewing homeschoolers' paperwork for compliance to New York State's convoluted homeschool laws ; and, of course, visits to far-flung friends, area farms, museums, and events; my learning my new little Lenovo netbook.....

So, while I've been intending to get back to this blog and post some of the many, many wonderful pictures I have of our travels and activities, the intention hasn't come at a time when I also had the means, time, and energy to devote to it -until now.

Happily, with my sweet new computing machine, and the end of fall settling that has occurred in the past week or two, and with the children becoming far more capable and independent in the activities of their day-to-day lives, I am finding myself with some bits of time not claimed by the urgency of other things.

Since our computer was filed with computer glitches and weirdnesses, there are still spring and summer photos aplenty wandering in limbo in several places. One of my personal goals for the next weeks or months is to track them all down, edit them, and prepare them for sharing, because there are times when pictures say so much more about our lives and ourselves, and far more eloquently, than any words ever could...

The first album is our our trip to Philadelphia on July 28 - the camera batteries died just before we realized our car had been towed - the City of Brotherly Love isn't very loving, or even forgiving, in the parking department. I'd thought I did what I needed to, by reading the sign carefully and buying a parking stub - but apparently not. Jeremiah, Annalise and I had a long walk back to and around the Independence Hall area, until we could find a helpful security guard - R. Reilly - who helped us call the impound yard and hail a cab.

We got a bonus trip to the docks, where we saw a massive cargo ship, and the oddness of Targets and Home Depots butted up against strip joints and adult movie theatres......everything, I imagine, that a sailor would want on reaching port. Then we went through the lengthy process of reclaiming our trusty Dodge Intrepid - at the impound yard where, apparently, a reality series called Parking Lot Wars is filmed....

The next album is from our trip to visit our friends Sylvia, Jim, Gabriella, and Harry Woodman. By "our", I mean Jeremiah, Annalise, and I, because most of our travels happen over weekends, and chefs don't very many weekends off...

There will be more photos to come, as I hunt down, edit, and arrange. I also hope to edit the many typos in these captions......and maybe to get through the summer pictures before winter gets here!

» Reclaim personal freedom in the US by ending compulsory schooling

2011-12-03T21:18:00.000-05:00

» Reclaim personal freedom in the US by ending compulsory schooling

A concise article that says it like it is.....I'll hopefully be coming back here to comment on this, but wanted to share it here, just as it is, for now....

Wolves in Westerlo!

2011-10-16T22:27:00.000-04:00

Last Sunday, a friend posted a link on Facebook that caught my eye and immediately made me think of Annalise, who, at 7, is a passionate lover of wild animals.

A group called Mission: Wolf would be bringing wolves to a park an hour and a quarter from our home. The ticket price was affordable, and there was a 7pm show that wouldn't interfere with any other plans.

So I told Annalise that she and I would be going on a mother-daughter adventure, and, on a full-moon Monday night, I got to witness Annalise meeting her first live wolves, Magpie and Zeab, as well as Magpie's wolf-dog hybrid mate, Abraham.

We learned about the many differences between wolves and dogs - differences in character, anatomy, body language, and reactions, and the number of wolf-dog crosses and wolves that die shortly after being adopted as pets.

We learned about the effects of wolves or the lack of wolves on an ecosystem, and how the animals who once ran for a living because of wolves (deer, elk, moose), are now standing still, and, as a result, overgrazing their feeding grounds, with dire results to the overall health of their species.

We learned about Mission:Wolf, located in Colorado, where wolves and wolf crosses habituated to humans and unable to fend for themselves in the true wild, can still live a free wolf life on protected acreage.

And we witnessed the beauty and grace of the three goodwill ambassadors as they relaxed, surrounded by humans, yet unconcerned and unaffected by us.

They did not behave like dogs, looking to the humans around them before acting. Magpie scent-marked a rag to announce herself as alpha female; Abraham followed and marked exactly where she had, claiming alpha male status. Zeab, the large, rangy 18 month old pup (wolves mature at around 3 years), climbed onto a table to get face to face with some of his Mission:Wolf human companions.

Humans held their leashes, but not their minds, nor their hearts.

May we always live in a world where the wild things are!

Wolves in Westerlo......Annalise and I Have an Adventure

2011-10-15T04:26:00.000-04:00

Unschoolers Rock the Campground III - Plymouth, MA July 14-17, 2011

2011-10-09T03:39:00.003-04:00

I haven't posted here in a while. Life keeps happening, and a joyfully busy summer, punctuated by sometimes unpleasantly startling new revelations and revolutions, is being followed by an autumn's worth of transistions and tangly plot twists.....

I'm not ready to write about it all just yet....still needing time to deal with things in the moment, and to process other things, and take action on a few others.

But, in the meantime, I updated my Picasa program and can FINALLY give my beloved photos the lovin' they deserve, with a sleek, responsive, and FAST set of tools!

So a season's worth of captured moments can now be shared, at a time when the images may say more than my words might, and when these images can help to clarify the deepening understanding.....

I hope you enjoy these bits and pieces of our lives as they were, through the late spring to early fall...

Since we were camping in Plymouth, we took the opportunity to visit Plymouth proper and the Plimoth Plantation living history museum while Jim was with us on Sunday. Last year, the kids and I toured the Mayflower II and looked at a rock with 1620 stamped on it. This year, with all of us together, we explored a Pilgrim settlement, watched artisans at work, and experienced a native Wampanoag settlement....

Unschoolers Rock the Campground.....album in progress

2011-07-25T05:21:00.000-04:00

Something new...

2011-06-23T01:01:00.002-04:00

Creating Hyperlinks

This is my very first hyperlink attempt. I've been wanting to learn how to do this for about a year, now, and, if it works, I will know how. Perhaps, I will learn more code as time goes on....

On Boredom.....

2011-06-05T18:16:00.006-04:00

I think maybe what people are saying when they complain of boredom is that they don't realize that they and they alone are responsible for their self-entertainment. They are waiting, perhaps, for someone else to come along and tell them what they should do next. They are sunk in ennui, without truly realiing that this is a feeling-state, and internal, and they are the only ones who can take the inititiative to move beyond it to discover what would fire up their passions, get their juices flowing, and allow them to feed off the marrow of life....

There is very little boredom here. In general, if either of the kids claims they are bored, I know that it means they are fatigued (as they are today, because we were camping with fellow unschoolers in Massachusetts last weekend, had a trip to the ocean, came home late Monday; they had a trip to the grocery store with Jim on Tuesday; co-op playground play at Clifton Commons for a good chunk of Thursday; and spent many hours of yesterday at Marla Briggs' unschooling BBQ - with the Unschool Bus! - where they swang on an indoor swing, trampolined, and swam the hours away till nearly midnight).

They aren't, today, bored so much as they are worn out and needing downtime to recover and process. We've already watched and discussed D-day newsreels, one Allied and part of a German one (D-day anniversary is tomorrow; good to know); Lise and I have weeded and looked at the remains of a baby rabbit Margot the Manx left as a gift on the front lawn; discussed everyone's needs for privacy; how fast the Earth rotates at the equator; made plans to go to next week's Waterford Harbor Farmer's Market, and I have personally done some cleaning up (tidying car from yesterday, living room and playroom, starting and folding laundry, readying kitchen to start cleaning, unpacking most of yesterday's stuff, stripping our bed).

Lise is in her room, watching Bolt, playing with Coffee (her baby doll), stuffed animals, and model horses. Jeremiah is just coming out of his room, where he was watching FlipNotes on his Dsi. He's planning to start a FlipNote club, and has plots for FlipNote stories for his invented Pokemon, Gemtra, and a storyline he's named True Soul. Before he starts the club, he's going to research around the Hatena website to see if there is anything else like it.

Jeremiah is not quite 10 years old, and Annalise will be 7 in a bit more than a month. Watching them is inspiring! It's so clear to me that they are so seldom bored, and so capable of creating rich and varied lives based hugely on activities of their own choosing, precisely because they have never developed the habit of waiting around for someone else to tell them what to do next.

They own their own lives, these two children who have never been to school, who decide for themselves what, when, and where they will eat, how, where, and when they will sleep, who don't need permission to visit the bathroom, remove clothing, or begin a new project.

And so their lives flow in a very natural way - periods of intense activity followed by days of rest, where, on the surface of things, it may look like they are lazily playing games or watching TV all day. But, as Doctor Freedman said on M*A*S*H, "But beneath. Ah, Sigmund - beneath.....". There is so much going on within the depths of these children. I find it in their art, in their play, in the conversations they have between themselves, with me, with Jim, and with others of all ages.

They own their lives. They know what they like and what they do not. They know that their own personal need to spend hours on physical activity, games, daydreaming, nature exploration, art, or anything else will be respected. They know that they can stay up all night, or get up early and work odd jobs to earn a few extra dollars.

They have goals that are their own, and they are willing to go to great lengths to accomplish them. They are familiar with getting stuck, and needing to pull back, do something else, and regroup. They have the freedom to decide, at any point along the journey, that the goal is no longer worth the effort of attaining it.

They own their lives, and are very seldom bored. When they are, they know that they can change it by going within themselves and deciding what would please them, in this moment.

I think there are many, many, adults who could learn something from observing how these children go about the business of conducting their lives. For certain, it isn't a lesson most of us learned (or could learn) in school.

A Thought.....

2011-05-23T16:28:00.000-04:00

It took me a long, long time to realize that most people in this world are so deeply wounded that they can only feel okay about themselves by trying to make someone else seem or feel less than.

~This above all: to thine own self be true. Thus it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst be false to any man.~ Shakespeare

These days, *I* choose my family. And my family is overflowing with people who inspire me, make me laugh, make me want to be better, who see my beauty and share their own, and who find value in my presence.

Just because I share DNA and life history with someone doesn't make them family. And those who see me only as a means to their own ends aren't likely to see me at all, after a while.

In the end, none of us are better or worse. We are all flawed, and each of us is unique in the world. Each of us has our own path to follow, and all of us are going to die.

I would rather live my life joyfully and in a way that is deeply meaningful to *me* (since, after all, I am the one living it!), than to spend a moment worrying about those who would rather judge others than live *their* lives joyfully and in a way that is deeply meaningful to *them*.

I am sending you thoughts of peace, and the strength to feel your own worth, regardless of what others say about your value. You are the only one of you we have!

saving this to consider...

2011-05-22T17:36:00.001-04:00

http://www.facebook.com/notes/soul-meets-world/is-being-nice-a-stigma/10150186221707260?_rdr

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Jeremiah's 3rd Quarter Report.....

2011-05-20T21:26:00.061-04:00

Jeremiah has exceeded the compulsory educational requirements of New York State, as detailed in the Commissioner's Regulations, Section 100.10, for the 2010-2011 school year.

English Language Arts (ELA) -

READING-

Jeremiah continues to be a fluent reader, both orally and silently. He enjoys reading stories aloud to Annalise, and does so with great expressiveness.

He has become very interested, of late, in reading for research purposes. We've discussed cross-referencing what he's read, considering the intent of the source material to determine its reliability (i.e. - advertising is not nearly so reliable a source as Wikipedia, newspaper, or other reference sources). This has been particularly helpful as he begins to check online resources for services and items he's interested in. He is learning the art of discerning what facts he needs and how to find them.

Although he still reads fiction books for pleasure, Jeremiah now prefers reading nonfiction periodicals and online fan fiction for most of his pleasure reading.

Jeremiah has become quite adept at internet navigation, and is now able to fill out registration and order forms with no adult assistance. He reads and understands the rules and requirements of the various online accounts he subscribes to.

Jeremiah's level of comprehension is clearly demonstrated as he discusses what he has read, extrapolates and forms questions based upon it, incorporates it into his play and his plans, and utilizes what he has read to help him attain a personal goal.

WRITING AND SPELLING-

Jeremiah, who until several months ago avoided writing and spelling assiduously, has blossomed into a new level of competence.

He enjoys independent internet navigation, is able to complete registration and order forms, write notes, fill -in-the-blank stories, and is beginning to write short stories. He also continues to seek out the challenge of breaking codes, and is developing a systematic approach for his decoding efforts.

He copied a long portion (a handwritten page and a half) of a piece of fan fiction he was reading online, because he wanted to share the story with me.

Jeremiah still sometimes struggles with spelling, but is requiring steadily less help, and is now much more likely to ask for help when needed than to move on to something else, as he has done before.

Jeremiah is beginning to truly enjoy the ability to write functionally, to record thoughts or information to meet his own need to remember, reach a goal, or communicate with others.

His writing, when he is being careful, has become quite legible.

ENGLISH LANGUAGE USAGE-

Jeremiah is forming a more complex understanding of the English language. He is beginning to understand the need for punctuation, and how to apply that information when reading aloud.

His sentence structure is becoming far more mature, both verbally and in writing. His vocabulary continues to evolve, as well as his understanding of general rules of usage.

We have discussed English as a mongrel and still-evolving language, and Jeremiah enjoys learning the base roots and origins of words he already knows.

He continues to be confident and articulate within a wide scope of circumstances (talking to salespeople, chatting with friends, debating, telephone conversations).

Jeremiah is becoming both very fond of and increasingly adept at wordplay, especially puns. A favorite source for new puns, at the moment, is the Annoying Orange series of YouTube videos.

LIBRARY SKILLS -

Jeremiah has visited bookstores this quarter, independently selecting items to explore further and/or purchase.

He understands that various types of literature and other media are available through the library, and enjoys literature both on paper and via electronic sources. He is beginning to understand the purpose of the Dewey Decimal System and computer card catalog searches.

Jeremiah understands how to use the table of contents and index to find desired information, and is becoming increasingly adept at online searches of sites like Google and Wikipedia. He often conducts his own research on game systems, game play, upcoming events, and questions that come up in his day-to-day life.

Resources have included, but are not limited to:Free access to home library and visits to local book stores; reference materials; computer with Internet access; games, programs, and television programming; interaction with younger sister; discussion and wordplay; assorted media for writing and typing; parent facilitators.

Math-

Jeremiah continues to be passionately interested in mathematical concepts, both geometrically and numerically.

He enjoys building in two and three dimensions, and often builds structures using toothpicks and miniature marshmallows that feature geodesic bases. He makes great use of the strength of triangular, well-supported base units, configuring them in various ways to suit his particular goal. He was able to translate this skill to a Spaghetti and Marshmallows, a physics building game app.

This quarter, Jeremiah has asked for help in learning to calculate the perimeter of a rectangle, and also for assistance in understanding a word problem (the first he had encountered, although he has been adept at solving similar real-life problems for some time, now). Once he understood how to determine what is being asked, and what operations he would need to perform, he was easily able to calculate his answer.

Jeremiah has researched the cost of a game system he would like to purchase. It is beyond what our family budget can accommodate, at present, and he has decided to save the money for this major purchase. This has led to doing odd jobs for his grandparents, saving his allowance, contemplating entrepreneurial ventures (a lemonade stand, yard sale, selling art, selling unwanted items on Ebay)and balancing his desire to save with his desire to have money available for other incidental purchases.

Jeremiah has been increasingly able to perform calculations in his head. Now he is also beginning to see the benefit of written calculations, so that he can perform more complex operations. His strength in performing the four basic operations, as well as fractions and percentages, counting money and making change, and beginning algebra, have all improved markedly this quarter.

Jeremiah has had the opportunity to explore a scientific calculator. He enjoyed finding out what happened when different applications were attempted. He has also begun to enjoy number games.

Resources have included, but are not limited to: Computer with Internet access; games; money; manipulatives; abacus; educational programming; clocks, calendars, and charts; real-life applications; free access to home and public libraries; calculator; parent facilitators.

Sciences -

FLORA AND FAUNA-

Visit to Five Rivers Nature Center in Slingerlands, NY - Live and taxidermic specimens of NY Wildlife; NY bird wing display; live bird observatory; maple sugaring tour (life cycle of maple, tree identification by bark and branch, sugaring process, tools of the trade, photosynthesis); specimen discovery table (branches, seeds, bones, stones, feathers, etc., as well as a variety of magnification devices and an identification key). Jeremiah was especially interested in the percentages of waters and sugars in the sap, and in the drilling (he had the opportunity to use the drill himself) and boiling processes.

Visit to the Children's Museum of Science and Technology (CMOST) in Troy, NY - Touched and learned about live, freshly molted rat snake; other live fish, birds, mammals, and reptiles and their habitats.

Visit to the New York State Museum in Albany, NY- Mastodon exhibit and puzzle; live turtle and fish. Studied various insect mouth parts using a microscope. Birds and Animals of New York exhibits. Fossils and shells.

Attended Journey Through the Body at Colonie Center in Colonie, NY - Jeremiah explored models of lungs, heart, skeletal structure, ear, brain, and mouth, digestive/excretory system exhibit, and others. He especially enjoyed the machines that measured his EKG, pulse oximetry, and the number of germs on his hands before and after washing.

We cared for friends' flock of over 30 chickens while they were away for the weekend. Learned about diet, observed and discussed normal free-range chicken behavior, including mating, scratching, roosting, laying, and avoiding predators. We collected eggs and discussed fertilization.

Jeremiah enjoys National Geographic and PBS programming about animals and ecosystems. He also enjoys learning more about plants and animals through online sources, including games, videos, and other websites.

Jeremiah independently explored and observed a variety of flora and fauna. He enjoyed building habitats and mazes for a series of caterpillars, as well as bug-hunting and identification. We observed crows and a turkey vulture feeding on a deer carcass. We have also observed Canada geese and wild turkeys, as well as live deer.

Jeremiah has assisted with Mom's gardening plans, as well as independently planting wildflowers and observing the changes in flora as spring progressed.

TECHNOLOGY -

Visit to CMOST - Jeremiah enjoyed light play, a digital planetarium show on the history and future of the telescope ("Two Small Pieces of Glass"), wind turbine, and meteorological reporting.

Visit to NYS Museum - Jeremiah explored a microscope, printing press display, and A train displays.

During our visit to Journey Through the Body, Jeremiah and Annalise were invited to join a group of children who appeared live with anchorwoman Benita Zahn as she filmed for the 5pm WNYT broadcast. He observed cameras and monitors, lighting, teleprompter, crew moving various exhibits used as props, and other aspects of producing a television broadcast.

Through programming on PBS and practical play, Jeremiah increased his knowledge of gears and gearing, and about watts and other units of power. He built several electrical circuits using a kit he received as a holiday gift.

Jeremiah continues to be passionate about computer and gaming technology, which he is using for a steadily widening array of purposes. He has recently begun registering for online accounts, downloading games and programs of interest to him, creating FlipNotes animations, picture and sound morphing, and conducting personal research. He enjoys learning about how various forms of technology function, creating his own concepts for new technology, and exploring the potential of the technology he has access to.

CHEMISTRY AND SCIENTIFIC THEORY -

Observed and conducted activities involving combining substances to create reaction or a new product. Baking soda and vinegar fill a balloon; made goop and silly putty at CMOST, and play dough at our homeschool co-op. Jeremiah knew a surprising amount about the chemical reactions he observed and created at CMOST, from PBS programming he has enjoyed over the last several months. Continued exploring independently.

Looked at Periodic Table of the Elements app on Mom's tablet, and discussed several elements, what makes an element, some common compounds with which he is familiar (salt, water), and discussed chemical formulae.

Jeremiah continues to independently form hypotheses, and is becoming more adventurous in his attempts to test them. He is beginning to take notes and make charts of his activities, especially during game play.

ANATOMY -

We attended Journey Through the Body, where Jeremiah explored anatomy via giant models of the brain and heart; giant interactive displays of the mouth, intestines, and ear; bones, skeletons, and X-rays; digestive and excretory systems; and many other activities, discussions, and displays.

EARTH SCIENCE, MINERALOGY, AND ECOLOGY -

Jeremiah enjoyed the rock and mineral displays at the NYS Museum. He has enjoyed watching the changes in water flow and levels as spring progressed. We discussed the water table, and watched the spring water level reach into a planting hole.

We visited the Five Rivers Nature Center, learning about the maple sugaring process, and how weather and the health of the ecosystem affect the process.

Jeremiah continues to be interested in ecology. He is particularly interested in recycling technology, and the energy required to recycle various items.

WEATHER AND NATURAL FORCES -

Jeremiah continues to be interested in natural forces, especially magnetism and electricity, often exploring and experimenting with assorted aspects of harnessing these forces.

We explored online, and then went outside to observe and photograph the full perigee moon. We discussed the moon's orbit, and the meanings of apogee and perigee.

Resources have included, but are not limited to:Computer and Dsi with Internet access; frequent access to pets, other domesticated animals, and wildlife; various natural surroundings; museums, exhibits, and events; models and specimens; free access to home and public libraries; games and programming; access to assorted technological devices and components for building/inventing; tools, materials, time, and space for free experimentation; discussion and observation; parent facilitators.

Social Sciences-

GEOGRAPHY-

Jeremiah has explored both paper and online maps this quarter. We have checked several locations on the United States map. He is able to read a compass. We've discussed scales, and, briefly, latitude and longitude; and the international date line. He has begun creating maps of his own to indicate paths through virtual game worlds. He is becoming very interested in time zones, and the differences in time between locations.

Jeremiah had real-life experience with geography during a 3 day trip to New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Maps and supplemental directions were integral to our travel. Discussed mileage, learned more about reading road signs, and length of time to get from one destination to the next.

We had a houseguest from New Mexico, who brought with her a bit of tumbleweed from her desert home, and spoke of other creatures that are indigenous to her area.

NEW YORK/UNITED STATES/WORLD HISTORY-

During a visit to the New York State Museum, Jeremiah explored many aspects of New York state history. Exhibits visited included the A train, NY Metropolis (Holocaust refugees; tenement life and Millionaires' Row; Sesame Street; NY coastline; historic schoolroom; Empire State Building; prehistoric creatures; and Dutch Colonial era archaeological finds (mostly pottery). Briefly explored NY logging exhibit.

Jeremiah continues to be interested in current events, both locally and globally. He has followed reports of the natural disasters in Japan (including making a FlipNote for Hatena's Smiles for Japan campaign), and the local and national reports of flooding. Some discussion of the World Wars, the Holocaust, and the Vietnam and Korean Wars. He also enjoyed watching portions of a PBS special on Ireland, and an Arthur episode that featured the Amish. He was excited to learn that there are Amish settlements close enough that we can plan a visit in the future.

COMMUNITY, CULTURE, AND GOVERNMENT -

Jeremiah continues to visit many local establishments, and to develop relationships with staff and other visitors. He hosted his cousin, Cameron, age 10, for a several day sleepover visit.

He has become far more independent and helpful within his family and community this quarter. Through his own initiative, he has learned how to cook simple items on the stovetop and using the toaster oven; to use the washer and the dryer; pack his own lunch; rise and get himself ready to make an appointment; and has been far more helpful with general tidying and cleanup.

Jeremiah has begun doing odd jobs for his grandparents on a weekly basis. He rises on his own, and prepares himself. He exhibits a strong work ethic and willingness to learn and try new things.

Jeremiah continues to have and maintain friendships within our homeschool co-ops, with cousins and long-term friends, and to be able to forge temporary friendships with other children he encounters. He is particularly kind to Annalise, and tolerant of and kind to younger children, including toddlers. He is also increasingly comfortable speaking to older children and adults, and has a range of adult friends, as well.

Jeremiah continues to be very interested in laws, particularly copyright, trademark, and patent laws. He enjoys watching shows that deal with various aspects of the legal system, particularly court television shows, from which he has learned a great deal about the judicial system.

We have discussed the role of the President, and that there are various bodies of government that work together to govern. We have also discussed the Articles of Confederation and the Constitution, and how these relate to the current revolutionary climate in the Middle East.

Resources have included, but are not limited to:Opportunities to travel various roads and trails by car, bike, or on foot; free access to home and public libraries; visits to programs, exhibits, and museums; computer with Internet access; current events; games and programming; discussion; parent facilitators.

Arts-

Jeremiah has had a resurgence of interest in drawing and painting this quarter. He has explored various animal subjects, and created an animated Pokemon character he named "Gemtra", and for whom he is creating a storyline to be told through a series of FlipNote animations.

We have explored pottery at the New York State Museum, as well as discussing various exhibits and their artistic elements.

Jeremiah frequently posts and edits FlipNotes on the DSi, as well as exploring photography and photo morphing and editing. He has spent considerable time perusing the FlipNotes of other system users, as well as watching and critiquing Youtube Teen Titans fan videos.

Jeremiah has also written the beginning pages of a paper book, and a series of maps, charts, and other art relating to Pokemon.

Our family, along with several others from our homeschool groups, attended a free Palace Theater screening of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. We explored and discussed the architecture and marquee, watched and voted in a costume contest, and Jeremiah thoroughly delighted in the movie itself.

Resources have included, but are not limited to: Computer with Internet access; games and programming; exploration of environmental and performance art; ample materials and free time for artistic exploration in a wide range of styles and media; free access to home library; materials for building and dramatic play; activities and exhibits; parent facilitators.

******

Music-

Jeremiah has enjoyed improvisational composition on piano. He recorded himself with his DSi, and permitted me to record him using my camera, as well. he also enjoyed exploring guitar and piano apps on Mom's tablet.

He has also developed a strong interest in several songs he found on FlipNotes and YouTube. He has spent considerable time practicing the vocals, with the goal of replicating them perfectly.

He has watched friends from co-op playing acoustic and electric guitars.

Jeremiah and Annalise played Donkey Konga, perfecting their ability to play the bongo drums to assorted songs, especially the Pokemon theme. Jeremiah shows a strong sense of rhythm.

Jeremiah continues to enjoy a range of music on television, radio, and through online sources.

Resources have included, but are not limited to: Recorded performances; access to sheet music and instruments; television and radio programming; computer with internet access; free access to home library, including music; materials for invented instruments; discussion; parent facilitators.

**********

Foreign Language Arts (FLA)-

Jeremiah enjoyed learning words and phrases in French, Japanese, and Spanish this quarter. He also enjoyed tracing Japanese characters on Mom's tablet. He reports learning more Japanese independently using various features and games on his DSi, and he and Annalise enjoy trying to translate Japanese words, phrases, and songs they hear while watching Japanese anime films (Ponyo, Teen Titans, Magical DoReMi, and others).

We discussed word origins, and the assorted and varied sources English emerged from, and how many words sound similar in several languages with Latin as their root.

Resources have included, but are not limited to: Computer with Internet access; free access to home library; exposure to written and spoken languages via programming, games, online, and environmental sources; discussion; subtitles and dictionaries; parent facilitators.

Health -

Safety (Traffic and Bicycle Safety and Regulations, Fire Safety, Fire and Arson Prevention; and Other Safety Issues as Needed) -

Jeremiah has had ample opportunities to practice pedestrian traffic safety during family walks on Albany streets, independent walks and walks (with Annalise and independently) on our rural road, and while crossing parking areas.

Jeremiah continues to learn about vehicular safety, with an increasing emphasis on safe driving practices such as obeying traffic signage (stop, yield, merge, lane closures); right of way, merging safely, paying attention to other drivers and potential dangers, and obeying speed limits.

We have discussed how to escape a car that becomes submerged, and the reasons behind the steps he would take (rolling down windows, unbuckling, and swimming in the direction of the bubbles. This became particularly relevant when a local family died in a submerged car, with the exception of a 10 year old boy who enacted the precise practices we had discussed.

We have discussed our home fire escape plans, and discussed several aspects of fire safety (feeling doors for warmth, staying below the level of smoke, and what to do if clothes catch fire), as well as different types of fire and the basics of fire extinguisher operation.

General Health Issues -

Jeremiah explored many aspects of health during our visit to Journey Through the Body. He had his EKG and pulse oximetry read; checked for germs on his hands before and after washing; learned about the amounts of fats and sugars in various food items; components of a healthy body; and many ways to care for his body and its internal and external systems.

At home, we have discussed nutrition and portion sizes; nutritional values and components of favorite foods; and the balance between food intake and exercise.

Physical exercise of various varieties continues to be an important facet of Jeremiah's day to day life.

Resources have included, but are not limited to: Events, and activities; woodstove; opportunities to travel various roads and trails by car, bike, or on foot; computer with Internet access; games and programming; discussion; indoor and outdoor play spaces; environmental sources; parent facilitators.

Physical Education-

Jeremiah indulged in various physical activities this quarter, including but not limited to the following:

Snow shoveling, climbing, digging, and sculpting

Roller skating (first time - Jeremiah really took to this activity, and by the end of our session, he was skating and steering slowly but capably, and able to extend his arms, close his eyes, and meditate while skating!).

Bicycling (on road, driveway, and grass).

Running and nature hikes.

Designed own workouts with 3 and 5 pound free weights

Exercise ball balancing

Basketball

Gardening

Frisbee and assorted ball play

Tag, hide and seek, and other running games

Dancing and mock fighting with sister and friends

Balancing and stunts

Playground equipment, bounce houses, and trampoline play

Swimming - focus on underwater swimming, distance swimming (25 meters), treading water, and diving practice.

Resources have included, but are by no means limited to:Indoor and outdoor play spaces; programming; excursions into nature; activities and events; group and individual exercise and play; discussion; programming and games; parent facilitators.

Attendance-

February 2011: 145 hours Year to Date: 1046 hours

March 2011: 132 hours Year to Date: 1183 hours

April 2011: 123 hours Year to Date: 1306 hours