Our 2019-2020 School Year

And then there was one...

With Andy graduating this past May, and Josh and Sarah attending the local public high school, Elizabeth is the sole child at home. This school year will be my 7th consecutive year homeschooling (my 9th year total). This year will take some getting used to as I have gone from homeschooling four kiddos up until last year, then last year I had three kiddos, and this upcoming one just one kiddo. The dynamic will be so different. I am looking forward to spending this next year or two just focused on Elizabeth at home. She needs that time with me. I have some fun field trips in mind that we will take this year too.

Here is a look at the textbooks Elizabeth and I will be using this year...

Math:

Science:

History:

Geography:

Grammar:

Writing:

Spelling:

Latin:

Health:

Logic: 

More

Windows open, I hear the sounds of all that is alive around me.  I steal a quiet moment to come to this space to write while children are away from the home, still laying in bed, or otherwise occupied. The cool snap we have been blessed with these last few days is set to end today and I hope to savor its beautiful release from the heat that is promised to come all that I can. The house is clean and organized, there are groceries in the refrigerator, and the cabinets are well supplied; laundry has been kept up with, too. I feel content in this moment in my role as a keeper of the home. 

Sometimes the green-eyed monster finds me, and I wish for more. More vacations, more money in my bank account, more opportunities for the kids, more date-nights for me and the hubby, more cool stuff for the house, more...

But then days like today will string themselves together, and the quiet voice within will gently remind me that I do have more...more love, more freedom, more time with my kiddos, more opportunity to shape and mold them, more time to savor these moments...

I have more of what really matters in this life. For today, I am content with that.

Summer Days

Cicadas make their presence known. A heat wave has subsided taking the humidity with it. As soon as it was comfortable to do so windows were thrown open and the whole house seemed to sigh a breath of relief. Yesterday and today the wind has made its way into the house bringing with it the smells of summer - fresh cut grass, flowers, and rich dirt. A full heart rests in my chest as I breath deeply fully aware of how wonderful these days are.

School books ordered have arrived for the child learning at home with me again this year. School supplies have been purchased for the children heading off to public school in a couple of weeks. The house is a mixture of emotions - excitement, nervousness, anticipation, a bit of fear, and of course, hope.

Sadness and pride co-mingle in my heart. I always miss my people when they go off into the world on their own. Being all together, a complete 6, is what makes me feel most whole. Growing up requires leaving, this I understand, but the practice is much harder for me to embrace than the concept of it. Watching them go, I count down the time until we are all together again; watching them go fills me with a pride that no godly person would approve of, but I cannot help it. All four of them are such good people; such beautiful, wonderful human beings - and I played a role in that, how can I not beam with pride?

These summer days will slip on by; soon fall will be upon us. I do not wish to pause the time and make it last longer, I only wish to be fully present in the time I have before me. If I can master this then the time I do have should be time enough.

Those Country Roads

Meandering down the country roads that will take me from my house to the high school to pick up a son from soccer, I cannot help but see the ghosts of lives abandoned in search of a better life beyond the reaches of what farming could ever hope to bring them. Farm after farm sits silent among fields no longer sown or plowed. Animals that must have once lived out their lives on these pastures can no longer be found. In many of these places, Mother Nature has taken over what man first took from her when he plowed the fields to begin with; vines and tree saplings begin their decent up silos leaning in disrepair. Farmhouses that once held families trying to live off of this land look skeletal as roofs have caved in and window panes have long been shattered. 

I wonder about the lives that these families led. What was it that finally broke them and led them to seek a life elsewhere, something that promised to be better than the lives they were currently leading? What was it like for them to sell their animals, to foreclose on the farm, to look behind them one last time as they drove in their car down the lane from their home to the country roads that would lead them to the city and beyond? 

The drive haunts me; yet I find a beauty in the places that once held farmers and their livelihoods that I cannot ignore. The places that once held human life  now contain the beginnings of new life - of new forests and fields. I drive slowly down these country roads to hear the birds chirping and to see the animals stand and inspect me as I slowly drive past. Being in this country makes me feel like I am intruding on the lands of the animals. 

There is a peace I feel in the country. A feeling of simplicity, not to be confused with easiness. I do not try and fool myself into believing that a country life is an easy life. If I need any convincing of this fact I need look no further than the abandoned farms that dot the roadside. Maybe I am pulling the wool over my own eyes, but I always get the feeling when I drive through this part of town that there is a honesty that is required of country living; a bare bones kinda life where no b.s. or pretense survives. Perhaps that is just me projecting what I hope to see in the shadows of all that shows itself to me as I make my way down the road moving from one farmer's imploded dream to another. 

Long after I have moved away from Indiana I will carry the photographs that my mind has taken of these country roads and the farms left behind. Just like the farmers and their families, all that will remain are the echoes of my presence left in the wind to be devoured and consumed by Mother Nature; to be forgotten until someone else comes through looking for the ghosts of all that gets left behind.