Family

Family

Monday, March 30, 2009

A Review of True Beauty: Cultivating Christ-Centered Father-Daughter Relationships by Vision Forum

From the cover, "God's Word speaks volumes to the relationship between fathers and daughters. His most sacred duty is her protection and preservation from childhood to virtuous womanhood. In these powerful messages given at the 2008 Father and Daughter Discipleship Retreat, speakers Doug Phillips, Scott Brown, Geoffrey Botkin and daughters Anna Sophia and Elizabeth Botkin illustrate elements of this important priority as they explore such topics as how to build the father-daughter bond, true feminine beauty, the Proverbs 31 woman, how to transition from beautiful girlhood to noble womanhood, and how to prepare daughters for marriage. Other highlights include a look at examples of godly, dominion-oriented womanhood from the young pioneer girls fo the nineteenth century, as well as the importance of the thirteenth year in a girl's life."

I have always been encouraged and challenged when listening to the many Vision Forum cassetes, cds and dvds that we own and this time was no exception. As always these speakers encouraged me as a mom to become that which we want our daughters to become. So many times I am disheartened to see selfishness and discontent displayed in any of my three daughters lives, but I am forced to realize that I am simply looking at a mirror. They are reflecting what they see in me, their mother. It is terrible to realize that my own weaknesses so many times are the same ones that bother me so much in my daughters' lives. How blessed they are to have a caring father who recognizes sin and can gently and patiently correct them.

All of the messages were very good, but a couple stuck out to me as especially interesting because they addressed a problem we are having in our home. The Botkin sisters discussed their role as sisters to both older and younger brothers and seem to encourage them in all of their endeavors while building up a great relationship with each other. We have one daughter with two older brothers, two younger brothers and two much older sisters. Sometimes I think she probably feels lost in the shuffle and acts out to be noticed. This message will hopefully be very helpful to her. I also greatly enjoyed Scott Brown's message on the Proverbs 31 Woman. What a great reminder of what God has in mind as a woman who truly follows the Lord.

I think this album of 4 cds with seven messages would be a great Father's Day gift for the father of daughters in your life. Check the Vision Forum link here on my blog for more information on this and many more great products.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Jordan's Writing-1st person story of a Renaissance artist

Jordan is an interesting character. He is a thinker and a writer and sometimes I am totally surprised by where his thoughts and writing are taking him. Jordan has been studying the Renaissance period specifically the church, some of the ruling families and some of the artists. I gave him an assignment to write a first-person account of a Renaissance artist who has been commissioned by a nobleman to produce a great work. As he was writing one day, he said he wanted to throw in some of the political and moral climate found during the time. Here is his story.

I, the Painter, had chosen the colors wisely. Red like blood, black like sin, green like sickness, and grey like scandal and secrecy. Perfect for my commissioner's painting. No royal gold or shiny silver, nor the purity of white would touch this canvas; I made sure of that. Only the stiffest brushes were suitable for this work.


My apprentices and fellow artists called me mad. Crazy. Maybe they're right. I let my apprentices go free for I do not know what will happen after tonight when my "Great Work" is unveiled.


Unveiled. Revealed. No secrets. Yes. And with the revelation of my painting, another revelation will take place. A secret well known, yet not spoken of. But that facade will crumble tonight. Unveiled.


The Duke is a ridiculous tyrant. All the nobles know it, but dare not overthrow him. As if the Duke, like some Jove of Roman myth, will hurl lightning in their faces. Dare not.


I must be crazy...I dare.


A servant came in and lit the candles. The Duke and Duchess would be here soon, along with the the Nobles-Who-Daren't. I am ready. I watch the flickering flame of the nearest candle casting its light around the room.


Light. Light reveals the hidden things. Light shows the scared children what their spooks and boggles really are, and they fear no longer. Light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not comprehend it. Light.


Tonight I will be a light.


The magnitude of it all hits me. If everything were shown as it really is, no lies, no veils, no secrecy, who could come away from the revelation entirely sane? Your home could be a hole. Your food could be poison. Youth could be old age. Your doctors could be murderers. Your enemies could be your friends. And your closest friend could be a monster. Nothing would be certain. Light would change things completely.


I laugh to myself. Here I am, a painter about to publish his work to the world, and I'm having a mental philosophical discussion with myself. Interesting.


The doors open. First the Duchess comes in, all done up in the latest fashion with her nose in the air. She would probably drown if she was outside in the rain. Next were her maidservants looking for the world like a group of fat chickens constantly clucking and pecking and eyeing every "rooster" that crosses their path.


After them comes the Nobles-Who-Daren't. I can see in their faces years of fear and feigned reverence for the Duke and I pity them. Men should not fear what need not be feared.


Next, the Duke.


Fat. White. Sickeningly beautiful hands with long fingernails. A smooth, seemingly innocent face. A flashy smile of white, straight teeth as he greets me and the nobles. Oh, how well evil disguises itself! But look closer.


A finger aside the nose as he winks at his personal favorite among his wife's maidservants. She giggles and blushes. The Duchess pays no heed; she too has a special friend among the nobles. The whole scene is enough to make one sick. But I am used to it. Living in this household for as long as I have has educated me in the art of being a noble. I mentally listed three rules the Duke seems to follow:


Never let morality or God get in your way.


Power, power, all for power, and when you lose power get power!


Religion is to be used to get the populace to like you, but it is never to be taken seriously.


Ingenious, is it not? Yes, if your goal is to be a tyrant.


They are all seated. Now is my moment. I stand. My hands are shaking with excitement.


"My ladies, noblemen, and Most Esteemed Duke," I say, laying my hand on the silk veil that hides the painting from view, "I present to you my latest work. I call it 'The Duke'."


I pull away the veil. I revel in the look in the Duke's eyes as they take in my masterpiece.


"Yes," I say, "Look well upon it. Look well, you king with a crown of paper. Look, you. Behold yourself as you really are. See, and admit it is a goodly likeness."


As they sit in stupefied shock, I turn and look at my work. There is the Duke. Two horns stand out from his forehead. A slim, forked tongue is snaking out from between his lips. In the background, mountains are dwarfed by his shadow.


The Painted Duke's face is a sickly shade of green. Beneath his feet lay the nobles, armed for war, but their faces depict defeat. The Duchess stands to the Duke's right, but the Duchess's maidservant stands to his left. The Duke and the maidservant are holding hands.


The real Duke jolts out of his seats, his face red with fury.


"I paid you to paint a portrait of ME, not Satan!" he screams. His scream sounds like the whining of a pig.


"You and Satan are one and the same." I answer calmly. Then I turn to the nobles. "See? This is a painting of what you already knew! The Duke is a pig! You have always had the power to overthrow him, but you dared not. Why do you fear him? Why do you fear this...this weakling?"


"That's not a good painting of me," whines the maidservant.


"Silence, you Jezebel!" yells the Duchess, putting aside all thought of propriety and leaping at the maidservant.


A noble leaps up. Bertolli. The only noble the Duke ever fully trusted. He draws his knife from his belt. "My lord, Duke," he shouts over the noise of the fighting women, "It seems your rule has been living on borrowed time. You are free to leave now."


The Duke looks puzzled for a moment. Then he attempts to regain some sense of authority. "You too, Bertolli?"


"Me too."


The Duke looks stoic for a moment. Then he turns and walks out of the room, followed by the Duchess and the maidservant, both sobbing.


Thus ends the Duke.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

John Adams--The Movie

I read David McCullough's John Adams book several years ago and was eagerly awaiting the release of the movie put out by HBO. Normally we wouldn't watch anything on or from HBO, but McCullough actually worked on the production of this movie, so we thought we would check it out. And boy is it good!

I have to warn you that in the first installment there is a scene of a "tar and feathering" where the victim is stripped. The nude scene is from afar and passes quickly, but it is there. Note that when you get to the waterfront and the mob gets out of control that you might want to pass over this scene. In the next to last installment there is a scene that is pretty graphic when the Adams' daughter is having an operation for breast cancer. The breast is shown, briefly, but be aware so that you can send your hubby and children out for that scene. Jeff and I prewatched it as we had been forewarned and he just stayed away from the tv, but within hearing distance during that scene. There is also a scene of Ben Franklin in the tub with his lady friend in France. She is dressed...he is not. A few words are thrown in that are in keeping with the times and Adams uses the word "bast..." as an expletive once. With the exceptions of the nude scenes, we have allowed our older children to watch all of the movie. The younger ones have seen all but the last two installments.

The movie stays very true to the book. I think the movie and the book should be required viewing and reading for all American citizens! Ok, not doable, but definitely our homeschooled students.

It is beautiful to see the love and adoration that John and Abigail had for each other. The sacrifices that their family made due to the absence of John during the Revolution and later the absence of both John and Abigail during their years overseas acting as an ambassador for our fledgling nation are immense.

There is also an interview with the author on the last dvd. It is remarkable and well worth watching. One thing that stuck with me is the love shared between McCullough and his wife seemed very much like that between the Adams. I will watch the last dvd with Jordan tonight and copy down one of my favorite quotes from McCullough to get it right, but it is either "The work is the reward" or "The reward is the work". Jeff says either way it is true.

Adams was the first president to live in the White House. In his first letter to Abigail from there in late 1800, Adams wrote: "I pray Heaven to bestow the best of Blessings on this House and all that shall hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof." These lines are carved in the mantlepiece of the State Dining Room at the White House.

The movie closes with many other quotes from John and Abigail, but this last one makes you wonder if Adams could see what is going on in America today if he would think the sacrifice was worth it. How far we have come!!

"No, Posterity--you will never know how much it cost us to preserve your freedom. I hope that you will make a good use of it. If you do not, I will repent in heaven that I ever took half the pains to preserve it." John Adams

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Dis-com-bob-u-late

Discombobulate-to throw into a state of confusion.

I think I live in a perpetual state of discombobulation. Every couple of weeks or so I try my hardest to get our lives in order...make lesson plans, cook for the freezer, make menu plans, stock up on groceries, assign chores, keep the laundry mountain from erupting...all the steps that one would think of to keep life orderly, even for a large family.

But it doesn't work out that way. No. It. Doesn't. We have interruptions. Most are good, but get us sidetracked. Last fall, it was the birth of my seventh child. In the late winter of last year it was the surprise pregnancy. This spring, it seems to be anything and everything. We have had precious friends move away...and we joyfully helped pack and load (ok, just the guys and baby girl) and had a going away dinner. We had two weeks of stomach virus. We had visitors. We had our second grandson. Jordan started a job that takes him away from home half the day....and I had only a 16 hour warning. What about my lesson plans? He still has to do school, but now he starts earlier and does homework at night. But you see...I had made a SCHEDULE out for Devin, Jordan, Aaron and Kaelan for each hour of the day just a few weeks ago. This was not on MY schedule or in MY plans. But God's plans seem to be different. God is working on us.

Jeff's work away from home has greatly increased the last year. Now, it seems there are some exciting developments with his work that will require more time, more creativity and probably, more stress. His home business keeps him very busy...at least 2 hours a day...sometimes more. He also has other activities as well such as the symphony and tons of home and homesteading projects that are awaiting time and funds.

But I will count it all joy. At least we are busy. Our family is growing. We have friends. The stomach virus is gone. My husband has several jobs that he enjoys. My son now has a job where he is learning things that he can use in his own business one day...and he is getting paid well for it. These two baby boys born to us within the last six months are healthy. And beautiful...as are the rest of my children. God is faithful. I will chose to be like Paul. "Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever STATE I am, to be content." Philippians 4: 11

Even if it's in a state of discombobulation.

P.S. Please remember to pray for Stellan and the whole MckMama family.

Stop and Pray!

Prayers for Stellan


Baby Stellan is not doing well at all. Please stop what you are doing and pray for this sweet baby boy. Click on the link above to get more details straight from MckMama. I am taking his situation hard. I think the combination of having a baby boy just a few weeks older than Stellan and still having some raging hormones and having a new grandson born just last week is making this situation very close to my heart. Mamas, go hold those babies as you pray!!

Monday, March 23, 2009

Please Pray for Baby Stellan!

Baby Stellan of My Charming Kids is in the hospital in serious trouble. Please pray for him and his mom. To check out his story, click the link below to his mom's blog.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Another Great Sale from Vision Forum!

Vision Forum has another great sale starting today on some dvds that I have been wanting to add to my home library. These dvds teach how to make bread, soap and candles. All are quaint old-timey activities that we have done in the past, but I always like to learn new ways to do things. Soap, candles and bread always make great gifts, so get the dvds and add these skills to your homemaking curriculum!! They are also including a couple of great books that will be great additions to your library and mine during the "difficult economic times" that we are in. Click on the box below to get more information.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

New Addition!!



We are proud to announce the birth of Elisha Jeffrey Phillips, born yesterday, March 18, 2009, to our daughter and son-in-law, Lauren and James Phillips. Eli is a big boy weighing 9 pounds 14 ounces and measuring 21 3/4 inches long. He was very alert and loving his new-found freedom in stretching out his long body...even his toes. He and Lauren are both doing very well...as is James who couldn't stop grinning ear-to-ear. Baby Eli is welcomed to the family by his big brother, Chase, 20 months, 4 Chamblee uncles, 3 Chamblee aunts, 4 Phillips aunts and 8 Phillips uncles and two sets of proud grandparents.



Monday, March 16, 2009

The Finished Product--Aaron's Pony Express Story

Today I woke up at six o’clock. John was making breakfast in the fireplace. I’ve lived here ever since I joined the Pony Express and each day is the same: eat breakfast, saddle a pony, grab the mochilla, and I’m on my way to the next station fifteen miles away. But my work is never boring. No way! Some of the time I have to outrun bands of Indians and sometime I get stuck in a blizzard. The wind howling around feels like a knife on my face. That is much easier to bear than out running the Indians. Our grain-fed ponies are supposed to be faster than their grass-fed ones.

Anyway to get back to the story, John, my partner, was making breakfast. “Good mornin’, Will,” he said cheerfully. “ Ready to ride again?” he asked.

“I guess so,” I said. It was my fourth week there and I was finally getting used to it.

After breakfast I went to the corral and chose a brown sorrel. John brought out the mochilla, the leather pouches that hold the mail, and put it on the saddle.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Will,” he said. “It’s fifteen miles to the next station,” he stated, handing me my colt revolver.

“ Don’t worry,” I said. “ I’ve done this before.”

“Yes,” John broke in, “ but today you are passing through Blackfoot territory.”

“ I know,” I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice, “but you yourself said that if I looked around, rode fast, and shot straight I would be all right.”

“Yes, I know,” said John, “ but I just wanted to remind you.”

“Okay,” I said and galloped away. I rode for about thirty minutes when I heard a deafening war cry. I looked behind me and saw a sight that sickened me. A band of Blackfeet Indians were riding at top speed. Each of them were painted with war paint and had a spear in his hand. I didn’t take time to notice anything else. I dug my heels in the horse’s sides and ran off.

As I was running I checked to see that my revolver was loaded and ready to shoot. Looking up I could see the Indians gaining on me. I thought my horse could out- run any Indian horse! What could the problem be? I soon discovered that my horse was missing a shoe.

I did the only thing I could do. I led my horse over to a large rock and hid him behind it. I climbed up the rock and steadied myself, took my revolver out of my belt and took aim. The shot rang out. An Indian fell off his horse, obviously dead. The attackers still came on. I took aim again and shot. Another fell to the ground but he appeared to be only wounded.

They were very close now. I began to shoot rapidly. Three more fell to the ground before I was surrounded. Nothing could save me now. They forced me to climb down the rock. Two Blackfeet warriors shoved me to the ground. They bound my hands behind my back with a piece of rope. The warrior that I had wounded staggered forward holding his leg. Yelling furiously, he picked up a heavy stick and before anyone could stop him, he raised it above his head and brought it down fast. That is all I remember.

When I came out of my unconsciousness I realized that I was in a tepee. I was tied to a pole. My head was aching terribly and hurt every time I moved it. The buffalo skin hanging over the doorway was lifted and two warriors came in. They untied me and shoved me out of the teepee.

There was an angry crowd of people outside. The warriors took me behind the tepee where we met another crowd of warriors and braves. They all stood in two rows and they were all holding clubs. I could only guess what they were about to do.

I was going to run the gauntlet! I knew enough about it to be very scared. I had to run between two lines of men while they reached out and hit me with the clubs. The chief came forward and spoke to the crowd and pointed to me. An uproar went up from the crowd as two men pushed me to the front of the line. There was nothing for me to do except run through and hope for the best.

Taking a deep breath, I ran forward as fast as I could go. The heavy blows from the clubs were too much to bear. I collapsed to the ground, but after a few seconds got up knowing I would surely die if I stayed there. The pain increased as I ran
along. The savages were hitting with all their might. It seemed as if the line of Indians would never end. It felt like every bone in my body was broken.

At last I burst out of the long line, falling to the ground. I had survived within an inch of my life. The chief came forward and motioned for the braves to lift me up. He stared at me for awhile as if wondering what to do with me. Finally, he grunted and released me. They gave me my horse back while I made sure they had left the mochilla on. Everything was in good condition. Except me.

Painfully, I swung up in my saddle and went on my way. I still had to get the mail to the next express station.

When I finally arrived, the station master took me in and made me lie down on a cot. “I’ll bring a doctor right away,” he said.

When the doctor walked in he felt of me to see if I had any broken bones. It turned out that I had two broken ribs, a broken shoulder blade, and a dislocated hip. He asked me what had happened. I told him the whole story. He said he didn’t know how I survived. He put splints and bandages on my wounds and said with a couple of days rest I would feel better, but it would be a long time before I would fully recover.

Likely, I wouldn’t be riding in the Pony Express any more, but I was grateful I was able to ride at all. I would be leaving for home soon in California. I will always remember riding for the Pony Express.

Stop the Clock, Please!

Can someone please tell me where the time goes? Our days seem to be flying by so quickly and then our weeks and months fly by as well. Last week was a whirlwind of activity with piano lessons and dentist appointments on Tuesday, three sets of visitors on Wednesday, enrichment classes, choir and helping friends load up for a move on Thursday. I just called a time-out on Friday and we just loafed and played all day. Then Jeff, Caedmon and I bought groceries and stopped for dinner that evening. Saturday we had a quick clean up and mall run, then Jeff and middle children again helped our friends load up, before they all, along with three other families came here for a send-off dinner. Yesterday, Jeff and I both took naps with the little boys and then we were invited to some friends house for an impromptu time of food and fellowship. We were out way too late (having too much fun) and I wound up with some grouchy kids this morning. We covered the basics in school today and had my dryer repaired so now I can wash and dry umpteen loads of laundry tonight. Oh, and did I mention "we" have a baby due this week? Ok, not "we" as in the house, but my oldest daughter, Lauren, just missed her due date yesterday. She is miserable but trying to patiently await the arrival of their second baby boy. Jeff and I will be heading to the hospital with Caedmon, of course, to be a support for her and James during her labor. Praying that all will go well. I keep thinking that life will slow down one day, but so far "one day" has eluded us.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Vision Forum's Spring Sale




Check out Vision Forum's spring sale that is going on right now. Many of you know how much our family enjoys the character-building, family-building, God-honoring products that are available through The Vision Forum. Now is a good time to stock up on birthday and Christmas gifts at some great prices. Just click on the above banner to take a look!!!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Kaelan's Pony Express Story and more on our new writing method

Yesterday I posted Aaron's somewhat edited Pony Express story. He has already corrected the misspelled words and most of the punctuation. We need to go back and look at comma usage and when to make new paragraphs. The whole story is one paragraph, but that's ok...we're learning and that will be our topic for this week

Kaelan's unedited story is below. There are several obvious misspelled words, run-on sentences, and punctuation errors that we need to work on. Most of the spelling we worked on last week, but she added more to the story yesterday which included more misspelled words. I hope to have these things addressed this week and our final versions completed by Friday. I think they have enjoyed this assignment so far. They certainly have an imagination!


Yesterday I woke up in the loft in St. Joseph. It was a cold winter dawn. I got up shivering to see if it was still snowing, it was. I got dressed in a hurry, I had to eat my breakfast fast. The Pony Express would be here soon. George is never late. I’d have to tell my stable boy to get my horse ready. Hmmmm....the mush never tasted better. The maid said “Mr. Park! George is here! hurry now, your horse is out frount.” I grabed my gun and hat and dashed out the door. I jumped on my horse and galloped down the rode. I wouldn’t be back for three days. I urged my horse thru the snow. We had to get there before dark. Good thing I left early. Finaly we were in a town. Ten more miles. Wer’e in a long valley. Bang! “Ow!! My arm!” Blood gushed out. Oh...I wish I didn’t yell. If I didn’t get out of here fast a band of injuns wold be on me fast. “Come on Thunder! We gotta get outta here!” As soon as she heard “get out of here” she ran so fast I could hardly stay on the saddle. Wait a minute. We’re here all ready? Hurray! I went right to the station. I opened the door fell right on the floor sound asleep. Boy was I exhosed. When I woke up, the doc was rapping my arm up. He said the bullet went straite thru. He said to stay in bed a couple of days. I said “Sure thing doc, I planned on doing that anyway.” He just busted out laphing. The next day when I woke up, the doc was putting more stuff to stop the pain. He said when I felt less dizzy, I could get up. The cook fixed a good breakfast of fried corn mush, cofee, eggs and cornbread. It never tasted better. The cook said I slept for to days. I said my thanks, got out of bed and ran out the door before anyone could stop me. I had heard Indians on the war path. They’re cries didn’t sound pleasant. I told the boys to get my horse ready fast. When they we’re done, I jumped on my horse fast. We galloped toward the sound of cries. One of the braves shot my hat off. Way too close. There were lots of other men so the battle did not last long. I was rideing back home to the station hopeing I’d be in time for a nice hot bread ‘n’ rabbit stew. I was hoping that the cook would have a nice apple pie for dessert. Mmm,mmm. One mile till home. My horse broke into a gallop. I started whistling “Yankee Doodle!” “Wow!” said I. My horse an’ I were already there. I told my horse to go striaght to the staiyion. Soon as we got there, I jumped off Thunder, ran in the house, to my surprise, the cook, Matilda, had put the food on the table and was eating. She stopped eating and looked at me as if I were a ghost. “Land sakes Jim! You scared the liven’ daylights outta me!” Giggeling, I went to wash my hands. I came back in sat down to eat, and started a conversation like a gentleman.

Serious.Life.Magazine is out today!

I read several articles this morning that I think you will enjoy. Take a moment to look through and find some great inspiration.



Serious.Life Magazine

Monday, March 9, 2009

Aaron's Pony Express Story

Today I woke up at six o’clock. John was making breakfast in the fireplace. I’ve lived here ever since I joined the Pony Express and each day is the same: eat breakfast, saddle a pony, grab the mochilla, and I’m on my way to the next station fifteen miles away. But my work is never boring. No way! Some of the time I have to outrun bands of Indians and sometimes I get stuck in a blizzard. The wind howling around feeling like a knife on my face is much easier to bear than out-running the Indians. Our grain-fed ponies are supposed to be faster than their grassfed ones. Anyway to get back to the story, John, my partner, was making breakfast. “Good mornin’, Will,” he said cheerfully. “ Ready to ride again?” he asked. “ I guess so,” I said. It was my fourth week there and I was just getting used to it. After breakfast I went to the corral and chose a brown sorrel. John brought out the mochilla and put it on the saddle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Will,” he said. “It’s fifteen miles to the next station,” he stated, handing me my colt revolver. “ Don’t worry,” I said. “ I’ve done this before.” “Yes,” John broke in, “ but today you are passing through Blackfoot territory.” “ I know,” I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice, “but you yourself said that if I looked around, rode fast, and shot straight I would be all right.” “Yes, I know,” said John, “ but I just wanted to remind you.” “Okay,” I said and galloped away. I rode for about thirty minutes when I heard a deafening war cry. I looked behind me and saw a sight that sickened me. A band of Blackfeet Indians were riding at top speed. Each of them were painted with war paint and had a spear in his hand. I didn’t take time to notice anything else. I dug my heels in the horse’s sides and ran off. As I was running, I checked to see that my revolver was loaded and ready to shoot. As I looked up I could see the Indians gaining on me. I thought my horse could out-run any Indian horse! I knew there wasn’t anything wrong with my horse. I soon discovered that my horse was missing a shoe. I did the only thing I could do. I led my horse over to a large rock and hid him behind it. I climbed up the rock and steadied myself, took my revolver out of my belt and took aim. The shot rang out. An Indian fell off his horse, obviously dead. The attackers still came on. I took aim again and shot. Another fell to the ground but he appeared to be wounded. They were very close now. I began to shoot rapidly. Three more fell to the ground before I was surrounded. Nothing could save me now. They forced me to climb down the rock. Two Blackfeet warriors shoved me to the ground. They bound my hands behind my back with a piece of rope. The warrior that I had wounded staggered forward holding his leg. Yelling furiously, he picked up a heavy stick and before anyone could stop him, he raised it above his head and brought it down fast. That is all I remember. When I came out of my unconsciousness I
realized that I was in a tepee. I was tied to a pole. My head was aching terribly and hurt every time I moved it. The curtain hanging over the doorway was lifted and two warriors came in. They untied me and shoved me out of the teepee. There was an angry crowd of people outside. The warriors took me behind the tepee where we met another crowd of warriors and braves. They all stood in two rows and the were all holding clubs. I could only guess what they were about to do. I was going to run the gauntlet! I knew enough about it to be very scared. I had to run through the lines of men on either side while they reached out and hit me with the clubs. The chief came forward and spoke to the crowd and pointed to me. An uproar went up from the crowd as two men pushed me to the front of the line. There was nothing for me to do except run through and hope for the best. Taking a deep breath, I ran forward as fast as I could go. The heavy blows from the clubs were too much to bear. I collapsed to the ground, but after a few seconds got up knowing I would surely die if I stayed there. The pain increased as I ran along. The savages were hitting with all their might. It seemed as if the line of Indians would never end. It felt like every bone in my body was broken. At last I burst out of the long line, falling to the ground. I had survived within an inch of my life. The chief came forward and motioned for the braves to lift me up. He stared at me for awhile as if wondering what to do with me. Finally, he grunted and released me. They gave me my horse back while I made sure they had left the mochilla on. Everything was in good condition. Except me. Painfully, I swung up in my saddle and went on my way. I still had to get the mail to the next express station. When I finally arrived, the station master took me in and made me lie down on a cot. “I’ll bring a doctor right away,” he said. When the doctor walked in he felt of me to see if I had any broken bones. It turned out that I had two broken ribs, broken shoulder blade, and a dislocated foot. He asked me what had happened. I told him the whole story. He said he didn’t know how I survived. He put splints and bandages on my wounds and said with a couple of days rest I would feel better, but it would be a long time before I would fully recover. Likely, I wouldn’t be riding in the Pony Express any more, but I was grateful I was able to ride at all. I would be leaving for home soon in California. I will always remember riding for the Pony Express.

Producer vs. Consumer

I have recently been convicted about having my children be producers rather than consumers. Occasionally I use worksheets to teach my children some of our KONOS topics and have also used preprinted lapbooks. Some of the lapbooks I have used have wound up not being my children's work, although they did all or most of the cutting and pasting, but have simply been fill in the blanks answered from the teacher pages. No actual learning required or needed. I have also used workbooks for teaching grammar and writing.

For years I have "known" that in order to write well one needs to write. I have known that, but not put it into practice. I always hated writing. Hated making outlines, rough drafts and then having to make footnotes, endnotes or whatever. Can you tell most of my writing was only for term papers? I don't remember any writing assignments that weren't except for the ever so dull book reports accompanied by dioramas in grade school. Ten years ago I purchased Marilyn Howshall's booklets entitled Wisdom's Way of Learning. It really encourage me to throw out the grammar worksheets and get my children writing about what they know or about what they are learning, making their own notebooks and becoming proficient in writing while learning about something that interests them. Of course, I had already read Ruth Beechik's book You CAN Teach Your Child Successfully and The Language Wars and knew that great writers did not come about by the study of grammar. But grammar is so easy to teach for this homeschool mom. Just copy the worksheets and have the children fill them in, teach a grammar song or two and bam, you are done. However, this wasn't getting my children to write. In fact, you might think I was torturing them when I suggested a report on jellyfish or Mt. Rushmore or any other topic.

These last couple of weeks I finally bit the bullet and put away the grammar worksheets. We have been doing copy work and dictation for a couple of weeks which is not difficult for them as we have done that in years past. Last week, though, my assignment for them was different. On Monday my lesson plans called for a journal entry from Kaelan and Aaron as if they were a Pony Express rider. The entry must not be less than one hand-written notebook page. Wednesday's assignment was a journal entry as if on the Oregon Trail and Friday's was the same except as if a participant in the Lewis and Clark Expedition. We have been reading aloud about each of these events and they have each devoured several books on each topic on their own. They had plenty of material on which to write.

My idea was to type as written each of their assignments leaving out capitalization and punctuation. They each wrote so much on the Pony Express that I dropped the other two assignments and we have been working on just the Pony Express assignment. With two having the stomach virus our time has been limited. Aaron and Kaelan both wrote about four pages each last Monday and declared them not finished! I got Aaron's typed up with no punctuation or capitalization and the incorrect spelling was left in. The misspelled words became spelling words for the week. He put in all the punctuation marks and capital letters and corrected the misspelled words on the typewritten page. Today he finished his story and I have completed the typed version. We still need to work on the paragraphs, but I am mighty pleased with his work.

Kaelan has completed her story as well. Last week we only worked on the misspelled words as she was sick for the last part of the week. I am very proud of both of them and want to let you all read what they have produced. I will post them later in seperate posts. This method takes more time on my part, but the outcome is much better than the many grammar worksheets that wound up in the trash each day.

Menu Monday

Monday
breakfast-blueberry muffins
lunch-pizza quesidillas, apples
dinner-creole chicken, rice, green beans

Tuesday
breakfast-granola with fruit
lunch-leftovers
dinner-chicken spaghetti, corn on the cob, rolls, salad

Wednesday
breakfast-waffles, bacon
lunch-leftovers
dinner-hamburgers, baked potatoes, apples

Thursday
breakfast-hot cereal with fruit
lunch-garlic chicken wraps, pretzels, apples and grapes
dinner-roast beef, rice and gravy, butter beans, bread

Friday
breakfast-pancakes
lunch-leftovers
dinner-turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberry casserole

Saturday
breakfast-biscuits, sausage, eggs, grits
lunch-turkey sandwiches, chips, fruit
dinner-sesame turkey salad, hummus, flatbread

Sunday
breakfast-cinnamon rolls
lunch-church (taking dessert)
dinner-turkey salad sandwiches, fruit, chips

Friday, March 6, 2009

Unwelcome Guest--Chapter Two

Our guest--unwelcome as he is--has returned. This time he has invaded Kaelan's body. I am praying that he leaves soon and doesn't infect anyone else. I did receive a phone call from a sweet friend whom we were with for a few hours yesterday afternoon. She suspects her son may have the flu. I pray not. The stomach virus would be a much better guest than the flu.

Kaelan doesn't appear to be as sick as Jack was at this point, but he had one sick episode and then was fine until two days later. When an unwelcome guest comes to a large family, it has a tendency to stay awhile. I have so many posts that I am eager to write, but I think I need to sanitize my home. As much as possible.

'Til later....

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Relief

I think our unwelcome guest has departed. Jackson seems to be much better today. He is up and about and getting into lots of trouble. I think he is trying to make up for his two days of inactivity!! What is it about 4 year old boys? So precious, but so much work....God is definitely working on me through Jackson. But when he looks at me with those big eyes, I almost cry-- he is so precious. Just look at his picture in my sidebar, doesn't it just make you melt?

Right now he is trying to find batteries for his lantern. It takes 4 "d" sized batteries. He has a pack of AA, 2 D, and a B. Surely, if you combine those it would work...Onto a flashlight now...He is so fast! Earlier he was cutting up paper trying to make a castle and now the blankets that have been on the couch for the last two days are all over the den and school room in various tent making positions. He's back!!!

We are frantically getting math, Bible, logic and some reading done before heading into town for piano lessons, library visit, dentist and orthodontist appointments and hopefully a quick stop at Kroger. We go to town two days a week and I try to pack everything possible into those trips!! I LIKE staying at home...Makes my day more orderly!!

Jackson will be staying at home with Devin....I don't take children out if they have been vomiting or had fever in the last 24 hours. Don't like to spread whatever we have and hope others do the same.

This post is so random...reflection of my morning, I suppose. Off to check a math test.

After I posted this, I looked to see what Jackson was into now. He has Jordan's book of ALL the Chronicles of Narnia and is sitting down for a long read. I don't know if I will ever get him still enough to really teach him to read! Maybe it has pictures.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Unwelcome Guest

We have a very unwelcome guest in our home right now. I hope he doesn't intend on camping out here all week. We simply have too much to do. Jackson complained of headache Thursday morning, but after a dose of Tylenol he was fine....until we were on our way home from our many Thursday afternoon activities and then he threw up in the truck...just an hour before we were to join our pastor's family for dinner.

He stayed in pajamas and watched movies all day Friday, but felt fine and wasn't sick anymore. Saturday, Jeff took most of the children on a fishing excursion with the B daddy and children. Jackson was still feeling pretty good. However, Sunday morning he said he didn't feel too good, but we went on to church. He slept most of the service and then....when we got home...he threw up....and has been throwing up every few hours since..

Daddy usually handles the clean up, but Jordan is a mighty fine substitute!! He is really developing a servant's heart.

Praying Jackson is well soon and that none of the rest of us gets it.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Menu

Monday-

breakfast--blueberry muffins and fried mush (leftover grits)
lunch-pizza rollup, salad
supper-baked chicken, glazed carrots, butterbeans

Tuesday-
breakfast-baked oatmeals, frozen pancakes or biscuits
lunch-soft tacos, salad
supper-baked spaghetti, salad, garlic bread

Wednesday-
breakfast-waffles, cinnamon apples
lunch-leftovers
supper-hamburgers, oven fries

Thursday-
breakfast-muffins or toast, eggs
lunch-chicken wraps, chips
supper-spicy orange chicken, wild rice, green beans, rolls

Friday-
breakfast-pancakes, bacon
lunch-leftovers or vegetable soup
supper-sweet potatoes, stewed potatoes, purple hull peas, squash, turnips, corn bread

Saturday-
breakfast-biscuits, eggs, grits
lunch-vegetable soup, corn bread
supper-turkey enchiladas, tacos, refried beans, salad

Sunday-
breakfast-cinnamon rolls
lunch-church
supper-leftovers
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