Thursday, January 31, 2008
Strolling to Rivendell
I resisted joining the growing number of homeschooling moms I know who energetically took up Eowyn' Challenge. I'm not fooling myself, I'll never be a shield maiden of Rohan. I'm just a hobbit wife. But....I found I couldn't resist and marked out some mileage in the neighborhood. I just ambled across the Brandywine Bridge and hope to someday make it to the last homely house and hear the elves sing. And maybe pick up some housekeeping tips.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
I've Been Tagged!!!
I've been tagged by my best kindred spirit friend Kathryn for the 123 meme. I've been looking forward to my first meme for a long time and this is a good one to start with.
The rules are as follows:
1. Pick up the nearest book and open to page 123 (that would be the nearest book with at least 123 pages!)
2. Find the fifth sentence.
3. Post the next three sentences.
4. Tag 5 people.
Well as luck would have it the closest book to hand is Tremendous Trifles by G.K. Chesterton. Page 123 begins with the essay A Tragedy of Twopence and the sentences in question are :
"The crime was committed in solitude and without accomplices. Alone I did it. Let me,with the characteristic thirst of penitents to get the worst of the confession over, state it first of all in its most dreadful and indefensible form." I haven't read this one yet and have no clue what he is talking about but I can't wait to find out!
As I haven't been blogging long enough to be able to tag anyone yet I decided to tag all the guys I live with:
DH: from The Education of Henry Adams "Had the minister known Russell's determined effort to betray and ruin him in October, 1862, he could have scarcely used stronger expressions than he did in 1863. Russell must have been greatly annoyed by Sir Robert Collier's hint of collusion with the rebel agents in the Alabama case, but he hardened himself to hear the same innuendo repeated in nearly every note form the Legation. As time went on, Russell was compelled, though slowly, to treat the American minister as serious." hmmm
Sam: From With Fire and Sword "Who is the ambassador here?" he repeated.
"I am the ambassador," said Skshetuski, proudly.
"Thou?"
Adam: The Jungle Book ""Get hence quickly or the priest will turn thee into a wolf again. Shoot, Buldeo, shoot!"
The old Tower musket went off with a bang, and a young buffalo bellowed in pain."
Joe: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (he wasn't actually reading this--it was just closest to him) "" See how my sword weeps for the poor King's death. O, may such purple tears be alway shed from those that wish the downfall of our house! If any spark of life be yet remaining , down, down to hell and say I sent thee thither--he stabs again--I that have neither pity, love, nor fear." from Richard, Duke of York
Kenny: The Red Fairy Book "The man thought the witch was really his wife, and he did not know that his wife was the sheep; so he went home with her, glad at heart because his sheep was found. When they were safe at home the witch said to the man, 'Look here, old man, we must really kill that sheep lest it run away to the wood again.' The man, who was peaceable quit sort of fellow, made no objections, but simply said,"Good, let us do so.' "
So there you have it. We liked Joe's the best. If you are reading this consider yourself tagged!
The rules are as follows:
1. Pick up the nearest book and open to page 123 (that would be the nearest book with at least 123 pages!)
2. Find the fifth sentence.
3. Post the next three sentences.
4. Tag 5 people.
Well as luck would have it the closest book to hand is Tremendous Trifles by G.K. Chesterton. Page 123 begins with the essay A Tragedy of Twopence and the sentences in question are :
"The crime was committed in solitude and without accomplices. Alone I did it. Let me,with the characteristic thirst of penitents to get the worst of the confession over, state it first of all in its most dreadful and indefensible form." I haven't read this one yet and have no clue what he is talking about but I can't wait to find out!
As I haven't been blogging long enough to be able to tag anyone yet I decided to tag all the guys I live with:
DH: from The Education of Henry Adams "Had the minister known Russell's determined effort to betray and ruin him in October, 1862, he could have scarcely used stronger expressions than he did in 1863. Russell must have been greatly annoyed by Sir Robert Collier's hint of collusion with the rebel agents in the Alabama case, but he hardened himself to hear the same innuendo repeated in nearly every note form the Legation. As time went on, Russell was compelled, though slowly, to treat the American minister as serious." hmmm
Sam: From With Fire and Sword "Who is the ambassador here?" he repeated.
"I am the ambassador," said Skshetuski, proudly.
"Thou?"
Adam: The Jungle Book ""Get hence quickly or the priest will turn thee into a wolf again. Shoot, Buldeo, shoot!"
The old Tower musket went off with a bang, and a young buffalo bellowed in pain."
Joe: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (he wasn't actually reading this--it was just closest to him) "" See how my sword weeps for the poor King's death. O, may such purple tears be alway shed from those that wish the downfall of our house! If any spark of life be yet remaining , down, down to hell and say I sent thee thither--he stabs again--I that have neither pity, love, nor fear." from Richard, Duke of York
Kenny: The Red Fairy Book "The man thought the witch was really his wife, and he did not know that his wife was the sheep; so he went home with her, glad at heart because his sheep was found. When they were safe at home the witch said to the man, 'Look here, old man, we must really kill that sheep lest it run away to the wood again.' The man, who was peaceable quit sort of fellow, made no objections, but simply said,"Good, let us do so.' "
So there you have it. We liked Joe's the best. If you are reading this consider yourself tagged!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Ocular Athletics
Writing has been a bit of a problem with my boys. I'm not good at thinking up exciting writing assignments and frankly, writing assignments were something I dreaded in school myself. But ocular athletics is something different! Sounds exciting and masculine! So we are implementing Ocular Athletics on Thursdays (we need a day or the day will always be tomorrow). Every Thursday we will try and come up with a "tremendous trifle" of our own and the best will be presented here. Today's entry was written by my college son last semester for his comp class but I thought it was a good one to get us started.
Glory of the Erie Art Museum
The Erie Art Museum contains enough pieces of beautiful artwork to let visitors lose themselves for hours. When I visited last month, there were brightly colored paintings that provoked both thoughts and senses. Some held gorgeous scenery, or breathtaking sunsets, or peaceful waterfalls, and others offered touching imagery of affection. There were exquisite woodcarvings with ugly, nonhuman faces and semiprecious stones for eyes. And there were gracefully flowing glass vases that played with the light and cast it over the room in broken sparkles. But the most spectacular art piece to be seen there, I believe, would have to be the museum itself.
The museum was built in the 1830's in the Greek Revival style. Huge, granite columns at the top of white, marble stairs give the building the illusion of being the vast crown to a great mountain; even the somewhat larger buildings on either side of the museum do not damage the effect. The scale of the design gives a near-complete view of the building, from wherever on State Street the observer stands. That also makes the building seem much larger than it actually is.
Originally built as a bank, the Erie Art Museum is a grandiose reminder of an era when aesthetics mattered. It compares favorably with the Erie County Courthouse. The courthouse is a beautiful and ornate building, also designed in the Greek Revival style. It is even fancier, larger, and more impressive than the museum, but bears an essential flaw. It has been meddled with, modernized and changed. The very being of the old building has been tampered with. Two great wings of splendid Corinthian architecture flank a squat and ugly box. The very part of the courthouse that is the midpoint of the frontal view, has all the charm and beauty of a prison detention center. It boggles my mind that people could even think of putting so hideous an addition into such classic glory.
The architects gave the museum perfect symmetry, though, which has not been changed; every window, fireplace, door and column is mirrored. Even the two inch thick, iron studded vault door has its duplicate. The ceiling puts me in mind of an island; the brass colored center is a volcanic mountain, covered and growing with trees. Foaming waves run in lines from the island, spreading and growing, to eventually crash against the distant shores that are walls.
The large, marble fireplaces present a different vision. When I look at them my imagination takes me to a cold, winter day. In my vision I am not in a museum, but in a private home. A fire is roaring in the grate, though it does little to warm the drafty house. I stand in front of the flames, resplendent in a sharp, wool coat; the kind of coat with double rows of buttons, epaulettes and golden tracery. In my hands is a steaming mug of hot tea. A mug of tea may not seem to complete the image I am trying to portray, but it is actually the most important element; I would sooner go without the epaulettes than the tea. Despite the bizarreness of this image I find it heartwarming.
I love being in magnificent old buildings like the Erie Art Museum. They transport me through time, and make me feel as though I am part if something great and important. In these buildings I am a rich nobleman, or a British general recently returned form successful conquest in India (hence the epaulettes). I might be royalty, perhaps a troubled and tormented soul like Hamlet, or maybe even a king. These are some of the roles the Erie Art Museum lets me live.
It is not the architecture of the museum itself that I think is so great, it is what the architecture does to me. It does not take a great deal for my imagination to soar, it only needs the right stimulant. The Erie Art Museum is definitely the right stimulant, sparking off my mind and letting me fly. And so it is the greatest art piece to be found there.
Glory of the Erie Art Museum
The Erie Art Museum contains enough pieces of beautiful artwork to let visitors lose themselves for hours. When I visited last month, there were brightly colored paintings that provoked both thoughts and senses. Some held gorgeous scenery, or breathtaking sunsets, or peaceful waterfalls, and others offered touching imagery of affection. There were exquisite woodcarvings with ugly, nonhuman faces and semiprecious stones for eyes. And there were gracefully flowing glass vases that played with the light and cast it over the room in broken sparkles. But the most spectacular art piece to be seen there, I believe, would have to be the museum itself.
The museum was built in the 1830's in the Greek Revival style. Huge, granite columns at the top of white, marble stairs give the building the illusion of being the vast crown to a great mountain; even the somewhat larger buildings on either side of the museum do not damage the effect. The scale of the design gives a near-complete view of the building, from wherever on State Street the observer stands. That also makes the building seem much larger than it actually is.
Originally built as a bank, the Erie Art Museum is a grandiose reminder of an era when aesthetics mattered. It compares favorably with the Erie County Courthouse. The courthouse is a beautiful and ornate building, also designed in the Greek Revival style. It is even fancier, larger, and more impressive than the museum, but bears an essential flaw. It has been meddled with, modernized and changed. The very being of the old building has been tampered with. Two great wings of splendid Corinthian architecture flank a squat and ugly box. The very part of the courthouse that is the midpoint of the frontal view, has all the charm and beauty of a prison detention center. It boggles my mind that people could even think of putting so hideous an addition into such classic glory.
The architects gave the museum perfect symmetry, though, which has not been changed; every window, fireplace, door and column is mirrored. Even the two inch thick, iron studded vault door has its duplicate. The ceiling puts me in mind of an island; the brass colored center is a volcanic mountain, covered and growing with trees. Foaming waves run in lines from the island, spreading and growing, to eventually crash against the distant shores that are walls.
The large, marble fireplaces present a different vision. When I look at them my imagination takes me to a cold, winter day. In my vision I am not in a museum, but in a private home. A fire is roaring in the grate, though it does little to warm the drafty house. I stand in front of the flames, resplendent in a sharp, wool coat; the kind of coat with double rows of buttons, epaulettes and golden tracery. In my hands is a steaming mug of hot tea. A mug of tea may not seem to complete the image I am trying to portray, but it is actually the most important element; I would sooner go without the epaulettes than the tea. Despite the bizarreness of this image I find it heartwarming.
I love being in magnificent old buildings like the Erie Art Museum. They transport me through time, and make me feel as though I am part if something great and important. In these buildings I am a rich nobleman, or a British general recently returned form successful conquest in India (hence the epaulettes). I might be royalty, perhaps a troubled and tormented soul like Hamlet, or maybe even a king. These are some of the roles the Erie Art Museum lets me live.
It is not the architecture of the museum itself that I think is so great, it is what the architecture does to me. It does not take a great deal for my imagination to soar, it only needs the right stimulant. The Erie Art Museum is definitely the right stimulant, sparking off my mind and letting me fly. And so it is the greatest art piece to be found there.
Winter Therapy
I've been a little distracted, nervous, jittery, emotional, over my daughter's recent move to Washington. She's doing fine and I'm doing better thanks to my two favorite winter therapies--bread making and snow shoveling. Over the years I have resisted getting a bread maker because I enjoy kneading bread. I have poured a lot of anxiety into bread dough! Snow shoveling is also great! I'm too,well not brittle yet but definitly not so bendy any more, so skiing and sledding tend to hurt at the end of the day and I never was coordinated enought to ice skate. But I love to shovel snow! I like being out in the fresh air, I like the sounds of the shovel swishing through the snow and I love cold, clear January days! I once complained to my brother about the summer heat and mugginess one June evening and he comented that he loved the long days of sunshine so much and they were so fleeting that he didn't mind the heat. It occured to me yesterday that the same is true of crystal clear January evenings with the sky a delicate mauve and dramatic rose colored and with the snow crunching under foot and your breath freezing as you exhale! It is stunning and beautiful and actually relaxing! I slept really well last night.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The title
I've been homeschooling for 17 years now. My oldest left for college six years ago and is now an emergency room nurse, the next oldest just graduated (magna cum laude, with a double major, a semester early)and moved away to start life in the big city. She's our delightful over acheiver. Next my oldest son started college last fall so that leaves me and the three littlest boys at home keeping the torch lit and holding the fort for the older ones to come home to occasionally. We are managing well but sometimes it is a little sad. We all remember (well maybe not the youngest) the days when the house was full to bursting and the table hardly contained us all. So half of my children are out trying to conquer the world while we remain and and are holding the home front.
New Year's Resolutions
Okay, it's a little late but still January. I made two resolutions this year. One was to lose 36 lbs. (A meager 3 pounds a month, this blog is not about that.) The other resolution was to read as many of G.K. Chesterton's writings as possible. I didn't intend to start a blog. I read a lot of blogs. I enjoy blogs, but I never thought I had much to contribute as a blogger myself. However, GKC has inspired me. In th epreface to Tremendous Trifles he exhorts his readers to be "Ocular Athletes"---"Let us exercise the eye until it learns to see the startling facts that run across the landscape as plain as a painted fence." It struck me that is just what all bloggers do and my fellow homeschooling moms do so well. I think Chesterton would be delighted.
So this is my place for exercising my eyes, to remark on our painted fences. Oh, and to do memes. I love memes!
So this is my place for exercising my eyes, to remark on our painted fences. Oh, and to do memes. I love memes!
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