She's an unqualified success.

My eight-year-old wanted to play with a neighbour kid, also homeschooled. The other child's mom called out to us, "She has to do three sheets first before she can play."

My daughter came back in the house and said to me, "Sheets?"

"Worksheets," I said. "She has to do three worksheets before she's allowed to play."

"Oh."

Pause.

"What's a worksheet?"

This is how I felt.

How We Learn

I thought it was time to introduce you to one of my favourite speakers - Sir Ken Robinson, a writer I have long considered almost a mentor as I navigate these waters of parenting and alternative education. I know most of you won't click on an embedded video...I usually don't, myself. But this one is so very worth your time. I haven't quite figured out why, but I cry every time I listen to it...usually right around "Somebody else might have put her on medication and told her to calm down." Please comment and tell me what you think.

My Yesterday

The last few days we have enjoyed intermittent - very intermittent - sunshine. It's not enough to really warm things up, and the hailstorms punctuating the afternoon kept the air downright chilly, but it's enough to make me think there's hope yet.

I bought this pulsatilla plant several years ago - five, maybe? - and would love to find more one day. I haven't seen any for sale since, though I haven't looked too hard. I kept thinking it might spread, or self-seed, or something. (It hasn't.)

School is nearly finished for the year. We have two weeks or so left. The lightning-swift passage of time never ceases to amaze and unnerve me.

Philosophy 401 - Advanced Childrearing.

Unschooling from Luke Bessey on Vimeo.

And speaking of school...

I want this so, so, so, so, so, so, so badly.

Click it - I can't show you a picture here: wrong format.

Seven days in the laundry room makes one weak

I think today I will spend knitting. The rains have begun, so it's a lovely dark, wet day with chilly floors and a sleepy dog, and I am working on Elijah for my sister's son. I think I might do some spinning, too, and maybe a little cross-stitch. I'll just stop by for a half hour and visit with all my projects, see where everybody's at.

When it comes to doling out the relaxation, I think I am more owed than owing. See how my laundry room looks?

I put a gallon of paint on the wall. Unfortunately, I need another gallon to deal with the other half of the room, so my photos all resolutely face the one direction.



This room is also my 'school room' and though some people on this earth have lovely school rooms with lots of coordinated colours and tasteful wicker baskets in cubbies, I am stuck in the wretched teal laundry room, with some kind of weird rubber floor and no practical (or beautiful) storage options.

But we work with what we have, so I'm slowly transforming this space to be more hospitable. We need to WANT to be in there.

More updates will come. My next priority (after today's binge of laziness) will be getting a roll-end of carpet for the laundryschoolroom. It'll make a big difference.

When I started homeschooling (FOUR years ago, good grief) I resisted all pretense to formality. I didn't like the preoccupation that other HS mothers had with their schoolrooms. It felt like playing, to me - like they were more interested in lining up pretty glass jars with paintbrushes in, than they were in facilitating their children's natural tendency towards discovery.

It was a 'baby' and 'bathwater' thing.

Now, with Charlotte starting Grade Four, I've noticed a few things. Firstly, the higher the grade, the more organisation you need. The simple fact is, there is more to cover. The time commitment is greater, the content is more demanding, the child is more inquisitive and both deserves and can handle more detailed information. A kindergartner can be given an important lesson just by handing them scissors and coloured paper, and reading them "One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish". It doesn't keep a nine year-old nearly as busy.

Secondly, the dark, cold, chaotic laundry room just doesn't have the right vibe. The feng shui of the place practically pushes you out of the door physically. It's like a WalMart - the second you walk in, your hips start to hurt, your feet cramp, the fluorescents make your eyelids twitch and you get an irritable headache. That's not good enough for my kids.

Lastly, we keep thinking of it as the 'laundry room'. That is just plain bad prioritising. It can't be 'the laundry room where school happens', it has to be 'the schoolroom where laundry happens'.

So I'm making a schoolroom. It has a map of the world, it has an art line. It has a dictionary and a thesaurus, and a guinea pig. It will have a globe, soon, and a magnetic calendar. It has a weather chart, a planisphere, several compasses and a protractor.

And it will have math, and spelling tests, and hand cramps from writing, and it will have lying-on-the-carpet (when we get one), and listening-to-audiobooks-while-painting, and playing-with-the-guinea-pig, and lying-around-knitting.

So it won't be a place of constriction, or a monument to the mainstream, and it doesn't make me a martinet, or my children droids.

I think I can handle it.

Get (Ab)used to it.

I've had a lot of mail and comments about my last post. It's been amazing...thank you so much for that.

I had an email exchange with someone yesterday, prompted by "Carborundum", and it led me to think more deeply about children's experience in traditional school. Normally I wouldn't carry on about any subject two days in a row, but in this case there really is more to say.

Often (like, very often), when people confront me about socialisation, they say things like “kids have to know how to deal with bullies...if they are never exposed to bullying and negative situations like that, they won’t be used to it.”

I always wonder whether they are even hearing themselves. “Getting used to bullies”, translated, is “suffer through it, and learn to avoid them”. What kind of society do we have, when we willingly and daily expose our children to damage, just so that they get used to being exposed to damage?

Because it serves no other end – once school is over, the need to tolerate bullies is obsolete. If it comes up in the workplace, it’s called “harassment” and it’s illegal. On the street from a stranger, it’s called “assault” and it’s illegal. In your home from your partner it’s called “domestic violence” and....it’s illegal.

Scenario:
A 6-year-old girl comes home from Grade One in tears. Mean boy is bothering her. Next morning, she has a stomach ache. Mom says, "You can't just stay home - you've got to learn to deal with it." A month later, girl is throwing up every morning and crying all the way to school. Mom says "I told her to ignore him - he's only doing it for attention. [Laughing] I told her it's the way boys show they like you. Anyway I talked to her teacher: she's going to try to put them into different groups." Two years later, the girl is 8. The boy is still in her class. He hasn't changed, but she doesn't complain about him much anymore. She has started odd behaviours, though: mostly playing her girl friends off against one another, and pushing some of the younger kids around.

Scenario:
A 7-year-old boy with a life-threatening anaphylactic peanut allergy is on the playground at lunch. A group of older boys approach, hands in pockets. They pull their hands out and begin to throw pebbles at him, yelling at him that what they are throwing are peanuts. "You're gonna die!!" The boy's friend, panicked, tries to block the 'peanuts' with his body, crying to his friend "RUN!" The principal, when notified, advises that he avoid those boys in future. Later that year, there is a girl who has never liked the boy. Her parents think "peanut-free" infringes on their child's rights. They send peanut butter to school with her. She walks down the hallway outside his classroom after lunch, with her PB-smeared fingers trailing along the wall.

Five years and many incidents later, the parents decide to homeschool the child for his own safety. Now he's 13 years old. It has been 18 months since he was removed from that school. He still remembers, with an edge of panic, that day with the pebbles.

Scenario:
Mr HalfSoledBoots and I are walking downtown in Victoria. We are on a crosswalk when an SUV nearly hits us. It passes so close that Mr HSB reaches out and slaps his hand, hard, on the back window. The SUV screeches to a halt. Five young men pour out of it. One of them, huge and staring, shoves my husband into a parking meter while roaring a stream of profanity. He rears back, fists clenched, and spits into my husband's face. His friends pull him away and they take off.

A cyclist walks up to us, leading his bike. "I saw the whole thing," he says. "Next time try not to get in their way."

No. He says "I've called the police. I'll be your witness."

The young man is charged with assault. We identify him in a photo lineup. He goes before a judge.

Scenario:
My friend, aged 25. Married to a bully. A year or so after the wedding, he starts to push her around. Nothing major at first. (The punching comes later.) She tells me about it. What is my response?
"Ignore him."
"I guess he must really like you."
"He's just trying to get a reaction."
"Don't give him the satisfaction."
"Stay out of his way."
"Try not to be alone with him."

No.

What makes school the exception? Why don't the rules apply there, too? We tell toddlers to respect others, not to snatch, not to yell, not to hit, not to make mean faces. Adults are expected to know that. But in a school? ignore them. Next year they'll move to middle school. Try to stay near the teacher. They're just trying to get a rise out of you. Don't go out of sight of the playground monitor. Stay together.

As a parent who has chosen alternative education, the burden of proof is on me. People want evidence, constantly, that homeschool is effective. I have to prove that my kids are just as good at math as their mainstream peers. I have to prove that they can speak articulately, print neatly, make eye contact, and are getting at least 20 minutes of exercise per day. I am expected to be proud and relieved (and the worst part is I am proud and relieved) when someone gives me a surprised compliment: "Oh my goodness! Your kids are so well-behaved!" Or once, at a party, after several minutes spent quizzing her (I was not present): "Your little girl already knows all her colours...good job."

I want the burden of proof to be on the mainstream for a change. I want proof that children in their system are well socialised. I'd like schools to have to prove that their environment is loving, supportive, intolerant of violence and hatred. And that the people coming out of it are articulate, polite, egalitarian, responsible, thoughtful, erudite, and well-rounded.

I want the public system to prove, using real, valuable benchmarks, and real, concrete, personal examples, that it is worthy of being given your children for 30 hours a week.

I suspect I'll be waiting a while.

Carborundum

I was at a party tonight. It was a craft thing. I was sitting next to a woman who, when she heard that I homeschool, had this to say.

Challengingly: "Oh, so you don't send them to real school."

Well, no.

"How old are they?"

Eight and five.

"Oh, five, so she's not in school then."

Yes, she's in Kindergarten, we homeschool.

Dismissively: "Kindergarten! Hmph. Homeschool kindergarten. So you don't send her to real school, like."

Pause...No, we do kindergarten at home.

"I don't know what you'd do for kindergarten at home."

Well, you'd be surprised. The ministry likes it, anyway.

"I don't approve, as you can see. [I'm thinking, of kindergarten? of the ministry?] I'm an old schoolteacher from way back. [Oh. Of homeschool.] And here's why. It's the socialisation, you see. Those children, those home children, when they go to real school they don't know how to behave. Ask any teacher, they'll tell you those children who are kept at home..."they don't know how to play", they'll say, when they go to real school."

Feeling my face turn red as my needle-felting increases in speed and ferocity.


I didn't make a verbal response. There were so many things to choose from. I could have gone with any of these.

1. I'm interested in your definition of socialisation. Do you mean that my children will not be aware of the proper pecking order among a barely-supervised and potentially harmful gang of 30 children, all the same age? Because Thank God.

2. When you say "don't know how to play", I'm wondering whether you mean that a child who is put in a concrete box to do worksheets for six hours a day, and periodically released to run among 75 or 100 other 6-9 year olds on large, plastic, specially-built gym structures...that this child knows how to play? And that my child, whose time is largely her own and is expected to fill it with reading, games, puzzles, outside explorations, conversations with her family and friends of various ages - and yes, TV - doesn't know how to......what? have fun? Get all the way across the monkeybars? Or, do you mean that she doesn't know how to manage the dynamic of love-hate friendship politics, rule following, and peer aggression on the playground? See item 1.

3. Homeschooled or not, my children are obviously far better socialised than you are, since neither of them would dream of saying something so rude to a total stranger at a party.

4. Get back, bitch.

But I said nothing because I realised something she didn't: that I was at a Christmas party, in someone else's house, making a felted angel and polite conversation with people who weren't sure of my first name. So I smiled at someone else, willed the angry flush away, and took the high road.

I had plenty of time to think about this exchange during the couple of hours I was there. I didn't have much to say...I was in a new place with a new group of people, after all. I wasn't there to be a loudmouth, to defend my family choices, or to proselytise for alternative education. It certainly wouldn't be me who made the hostess feel awkward and uncomfortable by holding a hostile and defensive conversation at her Christmas party.

I thought about my own experience at school. I remembered how often I dodged into the K-1 cloakroom or the girls' bathroom, or the dark and deserted equipment room, to avoid someone mean, whose voice I could hear coming down the hall. I remembered days of boredom and repetition. I remembered certain years, certain grades when I didn't think I'd make it out alive, and others marked by happy friendships....well, friendships I remember as being happy.

I went through the system, and I came out of it okay. I'd say, though, that I got educated despite school, rather than because of it.

Not that it didn't teach me a few things. It taught me to fear the disapproval of others. It taught me that if a perceived authority figure questions my choices, I probably made a serious mistake. It taught me all kinds of interesting things about how wrong I look, how unacceptable I am physically, and that my role as a female is largely concerned with escaping the notice of predators. The list of things I learned that I am no good at.....well, let's just say it's long.

A lot of my life afterwards has been about recovery. Many of the choices I make now, as a parent, are about protecting my children from that early harm which I feel left permanent marks on me. My choices for their education are a reflection of my philosophy, and all the things I've learned and taught in the last 30 years.

I sat there tonight, quietly listening to bits of other conversations, and doing my felted angel craft. I started with two pipe cleaners, the same as everyone else, and hunted through the shared bag of coloured wool to make the body and robe of my angel.

The only one with purple butterfly wings.

The only one with black hair.

The only one with brown skin.

The only one that was completely different.

Hither, Yon.

Well, as Sam Gamgee said, I’m back.

For the last 16 days I was in the untractable wilderness of Southern Ontario – viewing corn farmers in their native habitat.

Also the more common sprawlus urbanissimus.

We had some serious fun in Ontario, mostly staying between London and Toronto, with a one-day frolic to Niagara Falls. My kind father-in-law rented us a car for us to use, and we put 2,000 kilometers on it! Yeah!

We are museum people, so we did quite a lot of that. The Royal Ontario Museum:

Biodiversity (very interactive, kids loved the foxes’ tunnel system)

Dinosaurs (“thank you Mummy, but I have seen quite enough bones”):

and a King Cobra (“Look scared baby!”)

We loved the “Stairway of Marvels” or whatever they’re calling it – spent quite a bit of time at the toy soldiers:

and the ROM had the Dead Sea Scrolls while we were there, which was cool if you’re a religious person but otherwise, you can probably give it a miss. Especially if you have young children, because look what will happen to them by the end.

We spent a couple of days in St Jacob’s, which is amazing and lovely, but has gotten a little commercial since I was last there 13 years ago. The farmers’ market is worth going to, on Thursdays and Saturdays, when the Mennonite farmers bring their quilts, jam, bread, sausages, and all manner of good things to sell. Here is the parking lot:

And while in St Jacob’s we visited the Maple Syrup Museum of Ontario – yeah baby!

I like this picture, a cross-section of a sugar bush maple, taps clearly visible.

We saw the Toronto Zoo, where we sat in the underwater viewing area while the polar bears were being fed:

 

…and the kids got to ride a camel.

The London Children’s Museum was a big hit, especially the “Street Where I Live” exhibit, where kids could put on real firefighter’s gear, carry a Canada Post mailbag, and get a glimpse of the possible drudgery coming their way…if you don’t study hard, kids.

     

And we learned about one of Canada’s heroes…the indomitable Laura Secord, venerated here not far from Brock’s Monument.

     

There are dozens more pictures, but I’ll spare you.

I did a bunch of knitting while I was there, but can’t show you any of it as it’s all for Christmas (three months from yesterday, if you’re wondering).

How have YOU been?

Potager

I had a bad day today. But I am making a pot of soup for supper: turkey vegetable noodle, a consolation. Biscuits will happen later, and these two things together are almost certainly going to make the world right again.

I would like to have had some homemade bread with it, but maybe that will be for tomorrow. There’ll be leftover soup, of course, and it’s nice to know lunch is taken care of. I do have to remember to bash up the dough tonight, though.

I was poking through my spice cupboard looking for little glass jars of dried whatnot for the soup, when I realised that back in May, I invested in some 2” pots of various things…

what need have I of dried herbs in July? Forethought provides.

Lovage, winter savoury, English thyme, rosemary, purple sage.

Thanks Mum for planting the bush beans.

___________________________________

I keep forgetting to tell you about an absolutely charming series I discovered: they are by Shire Books. Wonderfully no-nonsense books of information about quite specific subjects, they are replete with history and facts, and amazingly concise. I have “Baking and Bakeries”and “Spinning and Spinning Wheels”, but I long to get “The Woollen Industry”, “Flax and Linen”, “Markets and Marketplaces of Britain”, “Evacuees of the Second World War”……oh, just all of them. I’m trying to scheme how I could get the government to pay for them, seeing as they would be for school.

Spinning and Spinning Wheels, by Eliza Leadbetter: from why wool must be spun, to how to work a spindle, to how to comb flax, to what a niddy-noddy is for.

Baking and Bakeries, by H G Muller: from Pompeii to Pillsbury, a fascinating look at the staff of life. This book is so cool – did you know that, in the 1830s, the main cause of lead poisoning was bread baked in an oven fired with old door and window frames painted with white lead paint? Or that the bread of the early 19th century might contain large amounts of plaster of Paris, white clay, alum, copper sulphate and bone dust?

Anyway, if you get a chance to take a look at this line, do pick it up. I think they’ve just released “Beach Huts and Bathing Machines” and “The Slave Trade”.

Finding out is so fun.

These are the things that keep me sane.

Three little things that happened today in the middle of an otherwise stupid and pointless 24 hours.



1.
My daughter said, excitedly, as she was going to bed, "I'm gonna take all these Usborne books to bed! Oh boy! I really want to learn lots! I've never felt so...." long pause during which Mr HSB and I looked at each other with quivering lips "...so LEARNY in my life!" (Hopefully one of those books was on vocab.)

2.

I was with a group of teacher-mothers, listening to a recorded lecture by an educational advisor, who said this:

"As homeschooling parents we expect the end results to be commiserate with the effort we've put in." Of course I burst out laughing and repeated merrily, "commiserate!" Everyone looked at me blankly. I considered saying "Uh....I think she meant commensurate," but realised I would sound at best pedantic, at worst intolerably stuck-up. So I just kept laughing to myself as people looked at me fearfully, as if they thought I might start jabbing fruit skewers into my wild hairdo.

3.

My five year old, playing on WebKinz World, shouted angrily, "If they don't give me my daily KinzCash, I'm going to wyatt!" I looked at the older one quizzically. She explained, "Oh, she said 'Riot'. We've been saying that a lot lately. It means go crazy with anger."


The moral of the story is: life can be craptastic, but as long as something strikes me funny, all is not lost.


Here endeth the lesson.

Doncha wish your teachers were stocked like me?

My sister said if I was having trouble coming up with blog fodder I should post something about homeschooling. Since I love it when people post pictures of their books, here is my main school book shelf (can't decide whether to type "school-book shelf" or "school bookshelf").



You see before you everything a Grade Two kid needs to know. Actually considerably more than a Grade Two kid needs to know, counting the other books that are here and there around the place, and the separate shelf of A/V stuff - DVDs and audiobooks. I figure we are set for a few years, barring the odd workbook and some different math texts.

Wow.

I can see that this poor little $70 Canadian Tire particle-board jobbie is having trouble coping with the Science and Socials. I think some actual wood might be in order for next year.

My friend, a primary teacher, laments the tendency of the lazy homeschool parent to simply "throw the book at the kid". I would contend that it mostly depends on which book and how many.

Grade Two Fine Arts

Ticking Over

_____________________________
"I hate it when I'm boring."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. So do I. I've been so boring lately."
- my friend and me, today.





I thought I'd show you what I'm working on lately, since I am philosophically exhausted today and find myself unable to competently review a book.

Charlotte's Christmas stocking continues. It was borne in upon me that there isn't much time left if I want this done by 25 December, and with the entire family (my side, that is) here for the day, it would be a shame if Charlotte's was the only sock left uncrossed. Even Emily has one - not as big and fancy as the others, nor personalised, but at least hers would blend in.



As you can see, I've made some progress on the toboggan - compare it to this picture from June 18 which was the last time I had anything new to show.



I have cast on a new sweater. Between the purple yarn and the pattern, I've decided to call this "Grape Jaali".

My first attempt at the back of this sweater didn't go so well. I knit the cabled strip for the hem, then turned it and picked up along the long edge to begin the body of the sweater. You're meant to fold the knitted strip in half lengthwise, and pick up through both layers at once. The instructions call for you to pick up almost 1:1 - that is, for every row, you pick up a stitch. Stitches are wider than rows are high, though, and by the time I had a bit (read, ten inches) knitted I could tell this was going nowhere. The stitches were packed in so tightly that they were almost gathered - and with the hem doubled, there wasn't enough stretch to block it out effectively. Also, it seemed like it was going to be too big for me.


Ugly gathers.


I ripped, and began anew. This is the second try, and it's going much better. In case you're curious, I kept the cabled hem the same size, but picked up for the next size down - 126 stitches instead of 136 stitches. I also left the hem undoubled, and will whip-stitch it into place when I have blocked the piece to satisfaction.


Much neater.

And I have resurrected a five-year-old project, my very first attempt at quilting, with plans to finish this and hang it on my daughters' wall. It's not big enough for a bed and I don't have the wherewithal to make another umpteen blocks to MAKE it big enough. A wall hanging it shall be.



My favourite part of quilting is definitely the pressing, with the neat 1/4" seam allowances coming in a very, very close second.

I love miters.

I hope to buy the batting and backing, quilt this (hand-quilted, of course, with an electric needle) and finish it by the beginning of October. Doable, I think.

On the horizon is another sweater for Ruby, who this time will receive a nice thick pullover jumper in time for Christmas. Once I price the yarn, I can start that.

I'd also like to get some Latvian mittens knit this fall, but there are only so many hours in a day and I've got that pesky Ministry of Education insisting Charlotte gets educated...tchuh. Don't they know I've got STASH to deal with?

Plunge Right In

Erudite Mondays at HalfSoled Boots

Volume 4, Number 2

Planet Ocean

Laurent Ballista and Pierre Descamp

I saw the girls reading this (again) the other day, so I thought I'd peer over their shoulders and give you a little glimpse of this amazing book.

As a homeschooling mum I am always on the lookout for interesting resources. I don't really believe in limiting a child by their age level - that is, not giving them a book just because it is above their current comprehension or reading level. Content - that's another matter. I wouldn't hand Charlotte The Catcher in the Rye, for instance, or Dracula.

My kids have been glued to this book ever since it arrived, and they still haven't discovered everything in it. It's not directed to children, so the text is advanced and there is no attempt to make the science easier for young readers. This makes it a good challenge for the kids, and also means they get worn out fairly soon while reading it...there's a lot of information for a young mind to sort through.

The volume is over-sized, as a coffee-table book should be. The photographs are stunning - you can really count on National Geographic, can't you?

The coolest thing about this book are the photo captions. These contain the name of the animal, the location they were photographed, and the actual size. It's amazing to see some intimidating spiny crab with huge jaws, and then to read that the actual size is 5/8".

If you want to be smarter, read this book. Here is the chapter list:

The Ocean - That Great Unknown

The Undersea Prairies

The Polar Oceans

The Undersea Plains

The Undersea Forests

The Undersea Mountains

The Oases of the Open Ocean

The Coral Reefs

The Law of the Strongest

Adapting to Their Environment

The Love Life of Marine Animals

Living Together

The Indispensable Oceans

There is a heavy focus on sustainability in the face of the human population explosion, and the effects of human consumption on the world's ocean ecosystems. It doesn't hit you over the head, though - it shows you the breathtaking photos, tells you about symbiosis, describes the changing chemistry of water. You can't help but reach your own conclusions.

Every so often there is a two-page spread of text entitled "The Expert's Opinion", on such subjects as "Arctic Ecosystems", "Sustainable Fishing: The Great Challenge", "Coral Reefs: A Precious Asset in Peril", or "Tourism and Marine Biodiversity".

If you get a chance to look through this book, take it. It's a beautiful and challenging volume - in a jaded world there is still an entirely different, strange and wonderful planet to discover.

HalfSoledBoots Highly Specialised Book Rating System

Planet Ocean gets

Reread - Constantly

Given to Others - I won't let it out of my house but I push it on everyone who comes here

Bookplate - Yes

3/3

And they say homeschoolers are lazy.

So just to give you an example of what the BC government wants to know (i.e., wants me to demonstrate on paper) about the effectiveness of my daughter's education, get an eyeful of this. These are just a few outcomes, by the way, in one area (of 12) of one subject - specifically, Language Arts: Writing and Responding, Purposes. (There are other outcomes in this area, and twelve areas in the subject. And there are eight subjects.)

create imaginative writing and representations, often modelled on those they have read, heard, or viewed, featuring - ideas represented through sentences and images that generally connect to a topic - developing sentence fluency by using simple sentences, dialogue, phrases, and poetic language - developing word choice by attempting to use new and descriptive words - developing voice by showing some evidence of individuality - an organization that generally follows a form presented or modelled by the teacher; stories include a beginning, middle, and end


create straightforward informational writing and representations, using prompts to elicit ideas and knowledge, featuring - ideas represented through words, sentences, and images that connect to a topic - developing sentence fluency by using simple sentences, patterns, labels, and captions - developing word choice by beginning to use content-specific vocabulary and some detail - developing voice by showing how they think and feel about a topic - an organization that follows a form modelled by the teacher, such as a list, web, chart, cluster, or other graphic organizer

create straightforward personal writing and representations that express simple ideas, feelings, likes, and dislikes, featuring - ideas represented through words, sentences, and images that connect to a topic - developing sentence fluency by using simple sentences that relate to each other - developing word choice by attempting to use descriptive words and interesting details - developing voice by showing some evidence of individuality - an organization that follows a form or text presented or modelled by the teacher, such as a list, card, or letter



Okay, first of all? Judging by the criteria above, the asshats who wrote these outcomes don't even have a Grade One education, because to finish Grade One you apparently have to have "sentence fluency", and use "straightforward information writing". Neither of those things are apparent in the outcomes as listed above: therefore, or as they used to say back in Clearihue B, quod erat demonstrandum, they must not have finished Grade One.


Second, SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME. My brain hurts from devising worksheets targetted at satisfying multiple outcomes for eight subjects. I've been at it all day, and off-and-on for the last three days, on very little sleep. My little one is sick and is spending half the night coughing and whimpering.


Third, want to see what I had for dinner last night? (Mr HalfsoledBoots had Mini Wheats and the kids had homemade macaroni and cheese.)






I firmly believe there is no trouble so great that it cannot be helped - however slightly - by a piccolo of Henckell. The cool round grapes, Saltspring Island garlic-rosemary chevre, roasted onion & garlic jam, and fresh baguette didn't hurt either.



Anyway, back to being the principal, the teacher, the janitor, the librarian, the burly woman with a whistle who runs PE, the school nurse, the Board, and the Parent Advisory Council. See you on the other side.

Progress for Its Own Sake

Sometimes I feel like I’m climbing a mountain.

The Aran is coming along slowly, since there has been a lot else going on to distract me.

Here in BC, the government is quite amenable to homeschoolers, even providing us with funding to teach our children at home. The hoop we have to jump for the funding is, we have to submit a portfolio full of samples of the child’s work three times yearly, to assure the Ministry that we are meeting the same education outcomes which they are (or rather CLAIM TO BE) teaching public school children. It’s portfolio time now, so I am madly scanning Provincial Learning Outcomes, throwing together worksheets for Charlotte to complete, and sorting all this information into a binder. It takes a lot of time, particularly for a free-form educator like me, who covers most of the material either by contextual reading, or verbally in discussion form, rather than by rote with worksheets for the child to fill out.

It’s not that my system is a bad one. Charlotte is obviously learning a lot, albeit above her grade level. (One of my concocted worksheets has the question “What is the term used to refer to animals who are most active during twilight (i.e., dusk and dawn)?” C. correctly answered “crepuscular”.) It’s just that it doesn’t result in stacks of completed papers with red check marks, and endless lists of addition and subtraction problems. This makes portfolios awfully time-consuming. But, hey: a thousand dollars per year per child is worth it.

And then there is the common cold, which is making my life a living hell for the second time in a month. Both the kids have it, so I’ve not had much sleep lately, getting up every few hours to blow noses, get drinks of water, doses of Dimetapp, more pillows. It all makes the knitting harder.

But, Mum and I went to Winners yesterday, and I came away with this:

I’ve been looking for YEARS for nice Christmas ornament storage, and was quite chuffed to see these beautiful boxes. There are two trays of compartments, each holding twenty ornaments (more, if they’re small). There is also extra room between the layers, and under the lid, for flat things such as tinsel garland. It was $20…I think I’ll be back for at least two more, for my children’s ornament collections.


Speaking of which, isn't it about time I put a countdown banner up?