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Just after this photo, I took a short video of the pupa wriggling to stretch its cremaster to hook into the silk button on the underside of the container, and then it squirmed free of its old skin. For 8-14 days, the pupa will hang upside down, waiting for Divine programming to transform it into a beautiful Monarch butterfly.

Bob Bennett Houseconcert

Kidding. I was KIDDING!

It was a joke. Of course she's lovely. And thin. Did I mention thin? And I collect pottery. Lots of it. I have pieces from all over the world. I actually have stolen some from Chris's house. Repeatedly. She hasn't discovered it yet. And besides, she and I have virtual "best friends" pinky rings. And on Fridays, we call each other to see what the other will be wearing so we can match. So there. :-P

I'd say ecletic is more accurate...

I took this quiz a year ago, and the results are still the same today.


Salvador Dali Melting clocks are not a problem in
your reality. You are an unschooler. You will
tolerate a textbook, but only as a last resort.
Mud is your friend. You prefer hands-on
everything. If your school had an anthem, it
would be Dont Worry, Be Happy. Visit my blog:
http://www.GuiltFreeHomeschooling.blogspot.com


What Type of Homeschooler Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

The Socialization Study

For years, I have been saying that a study needs to be done to debunk the myths that many homeschooling opponents have about "The Socialization Issue." To me, the solution is simple. Put a few dozen kids in a room from different educational backgrounds and see if the homeschooling opponents can tell them apart. This comment came as a response to my suggestion of just such a study after Mr. Dave Arnold shared his criticism of homeschooling via the NEA website and Natalie's blog. On the website Family Times - The Why of Homeschooling, there's a snippet of information about a study done where they placed a bunch of kids in a room and videotaped them; the videos were viewed by trained counselors. The results?

"In 1992, Larry Shyers of the University of Florida defended a doctoral dissertation in which he challenged the notion that youngsters at home 'lag' in social development. In his study, 8- to 10-year-old children were videotaped at play. Their behavior was observed by trained counselors who did not know which children attended conventional schools and which were homeschooled. The study found no significant difference between the two groups of children in self-concept or assertiveness, which was measured by social development tests. But the videotapes showed that youngsters taught at home by their parents had fewer behavior problems."

I think it's time for a bigger and better and, more importantly, WIDELY PUBLISHED study.

Anyone?

Swimmer's Ear and a Sensitive Mind

It's amazing to me how one little thing that happens in my day--indeed, a miniscule thing that occurs in my life--can set my sensitive mind into overactive mode.

My dear daughter Bard, who is fifteen and a half today, awoke yesterday morning with an ache in her ear. Since she's been swimming quite a bit lately, I began to research the ever-wonderful web for information on swimmer's ear. After reading a few sites, I determined that, no, it was definitely not swimmer's ear. Tomorrow, I said, I'll run to the health food store and pick up some garlic willow oil and we'll get rid of this painful ear infection.

"I don't like putting things in my ear," she protested.

"That's not true," I countered.

"Yes, it certainly is," she responded.

"Well, it wasn't true when you were three and you shoved that plastic pull string from the little toy phone directly into your eardrum, causing me a severe panic attack. I'm pretty sure you damaged your eardrum with that thing. You had a thing about putting things in your orafices. That was just shortly after the sponge up the nose incident."

"I didn't like doing that," Bard retorted.

"I disagree. I think you sincerely liked the idea of sticking something into your ear which is why you did it. I think you adored the idea right up until the moment of impact with your little eardrum."

She did what she normally does when I make sense. She rolled her eyes.

This morning, dear Bard awoke with more intense pain in her ear, a pain that was radiating down her jaw. And then there was the pesky problem of not being able to hear with that ear.

I called the doctor and after only five minutes of waiting for a receptionist, I was able to make an appointment. And, miracles never ceasing, I was able to score an appointment with my doc of preference for this very day. Sah-WEET!

There are days when the doctor's office gods look down on me and smile. I wish, for the sake of comedy, that I could say today was not one of them. But then again, that's a banal joke, so I'll not take that line any further.

Today, the doctor's office gods looked down on me, waved a happy little, "It's nice to see you!" wave and grinned from ear to ear. Not Bard's ear, though. That would hurt.

When I say that I found favor in the eyes of the doctor's office gods, I mean that I walked right up to the registration desk with my insurance card in hand, on time, and didn't have to sign a single thing. No paperwork, no arrival time list, nothing. And as Bard and I seated ourselves, I found a magazine that was worth reading, Kids Discover issue on bees. And as I opened the magazine, I was amazed to find that I was not able to get beyond the first page because Bard's name was called. Our nurse was friendly, commented about the fact that today was Bard's 15 1/2 day and would she be getting her temps? (Yes, that was next, I replied) and Bard was thrilled to find that she is taller than she thought she was. We were taken to our room, where Bard's complaints were actually heard, and then we were left to enjoy the rest of our magazine, which I had the forethought to carry along with me into the examination room.

But, wonder of wonders, the doctor's office gods showered their love upon me, and we were only able to read through about half of the magazine before Dr. B arrived in the room, all smiles and pleasant conversation, and diagnosed dear Bard with swimmer's ear faster than you can say, "Hi! I'm doctor B!"

"Sometimes you can clear it up without a prescription," he said, "but not this one. She has it pretty bad." Indeed, poor Bard was miserable, and I could see that the pain was increasing with every minute. "But in the future, you can use distilled white vinegar at the first sign of soreness."

"We've always used garlic oil for ear infections," I told him confidently. My children don't get ear infections often, but when they do, I've never seen an ear infection that alternating treatments of garlic oil and hydrogen peroxide won't clear up.

"Garlic oil really only works because you warm it up," he said. "Any sweet oil will make the ear feel better if you warm it up. The problem is that if there is any damage to the eardrum, you really don't want to put any oils or other substances in the ear. It could cause serious problems."

No garlic oil? Did he just say no garlic oil?

"And there are other things that people use that simply won't work for swimmer's ear or ear infections..."

While he was talking, I only half heard him because I was so focused on the fact that I'd been wrong about garlic oil all these years. How could it be? I'd used it with success! Repeatedly! They sell it in the health food stores! I've read it in my naturopathic books! I'd recommended it to others! I'd always had such wonderful success with garlic willow oil and...

"...and hydrogen peroxide. That just doesn't work, either. It's good to use to clean out the ear, but it won't kill the bacteria that causes infections..."

What? What did I just hear? Did he just say that peroxide, that wonderful cure-all that I store in my pantry by the gallons, doesn't work to fight ear infections? Peroxide works on EVERYTHING! It's a dadblammed miracle worker! Once, when we had a pony with proud flesh, I was able to conquer the infection with very strong doses of peroxide and herbal salves.

"Excuse me," I said. "Did you say that peroxide doesn't...doesn't work?"

"No, it doesn't," replied Dr. B. "It might clean out the ear, but it won't kill the bacteria. If you want to treat an ear problem before it gets out of hand, use plain white distilled vinegar, and..."

Vinegar. Okay, I learned something there. And under normal circumstances, I'd be thrilled that my doc was offering information about home remedies. But here I was, The Mother, sitting in front of my fifteen and a half year old child, realizing that I actually did not know everything there was to know about raising children. Shock! Dismay! Mental chaos ensued!

Because while Dr. B was talking about how most ear infections are viral anyway, and they'll run their course whether they're treated or not and will simply get better on their own (his reasoning for why the garlic oil worked), and while he was saying that there's no way of knowing whether an ear infection is bacterial or viral and they, unfortunately, prescribe antibiotics for all ear infections, I was still thinking about garlic oil and hydrogen peroxide.

And how I'd been wrong.

What else am I wrong about? I wondered. What else have I skipped along blissfully believing, placing my loved ones in harm's way?

What about my educational choices? And my lifestyle choices? And my disciplinary choices? What about my religious beliefs and my worldview? What about all those times I thought I'd won an argument? What about all the other paradigms, assumptions and philosophies I'd adopted?

The doctor's office gods were still smiling as I paid my twenty dollar co-pay and picked up Bard's prescription. There were people still in the waiting room who had been there when we'd arrived. I wondered what they'd done to anger the doctor's office gods. Maybe they pulled a page out of one of the waiting room magazines or tapped on the side of the aquarium or signed the registration sheet stating they'd arrived five minutes earlier than they actually had just to try to fool the doctor's office gods into believing they hadn't been three minutes late. Or something.

But that sensitive mind of mine just couldn't get out of active mode. And now, I'm left wondering; first garlic oil and hydrogen peroxide, next...what? Hershey's Kisses aren't really a nutritious part of a complete breakfast? Black really isn't my color? My husband doesn't really believe that my butt's not too big?

Maybe the doctor's office gods weren't really smiling down on me after all.

Maybe they were laughing AT me.

I hope that doesn't make them angry that I said that.

Up On Aden's Hill

Aden's Hill
by Thicket Dweller

There's a peace too big to photograph
There's a sky too blue to paint
There's a life that's greener than the fields along
That dusty lane.

There's a laugher that comes ringing
Even through the winter's chill
There's a thrill that comes from flying
'Cross the snow that once lay still
Up on Aden's hill.
Up on Aden's hill.

You can see across the pastures
Beyond the houses plain and white
You can see beyond the future
When the stars burst forth at night
You can see the red-tailed hawk fly
soaring, shrieking high and shrill
You can see as far as eyes allow or 'till you
Get your fill
Up on Aden's hill
Up on Aden's hill.

There are places that are higher
There are grasses just as green
But the view from here is the clearest
I have ever seen.

It's a love that can move mountains
And can chase away my fears
It's a passion that can calm my rage and
Wipe away my tears.
It's a love that gives me eagle's wings
And makes the hateful voices still
It's a love that I can see in everything from Aden's hill
From up on Aden's hill...

This is a poem I wrote after a visit from a friend; we had taken a walk to the top of a neighbor's hill and the view, seeing it as though through my friend's eyes, was new and beautiful and completely breathtaking. This is one of my favorite poems that I've written. I hope you enjoy it, too

The big kids grab their loot.

It's PINATA TIME!

Sweetheart looking mighty sweet.

The lovely, talented, intelligent and entertaining Miss Bard.

Sweetheart looking slightly demented.

Bo playing lovely music (funky effect courtesy of moi).

My handsome and talented husband, Bo.

Daddy and The Baby.