the boys finally woke up around 8:15, and by 9:00 we were in the car, on our way to pick them up. when we arrive at the post office, the postal worker warned me that one of the packages looked a little “bad.”  this meant that there was a lot more dead bees on the bottom of that package than the other one. you can tell the difference in the two pictures above – the bottom photo is the stronger hive (less dead bees).

the boys and i sprayed the cages with sugar water every 45 minutes or so. the buzz would “hush” when they were sprayed and after 10 minutes or so, the buzzing would be loud again. our beekeeping book says, “Listen well. The humming will subside and your bees will sound more contented as they feed. Volume will change with hive conditions, but the sweet and low tone of that contented sound is a delight to the beekeeper’s ears. Try to memorize it.”

when kenny got home from work, we got our hives ready. the frames we put in already have old “drawn comb” on them (from our previous beekeeping days), and the new bees will clean them up  and open them up so the queen can lay eggs in them, the workers will feed the larvae and the hives will grow more and more bees.

the apiary from which we ordered the bees will be sending a replacement hive (we just have to pay shipping) in a few weeks. so we’ll know whether or not we have to merge it into the weaker one, or just start a whole new hive. in two weeks, we should begin to see active growth.

now, our busy work begins. i’m off to Sam’s in the morning to get a 50 lb. bag of white sugar. we’ll be making sugar syrup (one part sugar to one part water) to help the bees in their building. they’ll begin to find pollen sources, but this time of year, the beekeeper has to help the bee out. wintered bees will be busy carrying out dead bees and all of their winter excrement, and new bees (like ours) will be busy building comb and tending to the queen.

so excited to see these hives get higher and busy…and looking forward to a full harvest!

It was pure meyhem but a lot of fun!

Our last co-op class was a month ago, so it’s been about 4 weeks since I’ve seen the students I had in my class and I have to admit that I’ve missed them!  It was great to see all those little faces again (I tutored the 4-year-old class).  Each class got to share their memory work on stage. My class did a few history sentences and in true form, when I prompted them for the sentence, for instance, “Tell Me about the Declaration of Independence?” … the students kind of mumbled their answer quietly yelling out key words here and there, like “Continental Congress” and “Philadelphia” and “Colonists.” It really was adorable.  The kids knew their stuff, they just didn’t like saying it very loudly. The next class to get up (ages 5) were able to speak their answers clearly and perfectly.

I think the first year of Classical Conversations for 4-year-old’s is purely a practice year. It’s absolutely true that a 4-year-old is able to memorize and do rote memory work. It’s also true that a 4-year-old is able to speak in front of others. But it takes practice and confidence to build the latter.  I saw huge growth in the public speaking area in my students from last fall until this spring. Some were able to speak from the start, and some needed a bit of time, coaxing, and encouragement to come out of their shells and exercise their voice out loud as the center of attention.

We have decided to take at least a year off of Classical Conversations, and do the curriculum at home next year. I told a few of the families at the banquet that we weren’t returning, and I didn’t expect the surprised and sad reactions from the families I told. I was a bit choked up to hear them tell me to “change my mind,” to “please keep in touch.”  What an honor to be seen as someone instrumental in their kids’ lives.  I know I appreciated all the time my boys’ tutors put into their classes…  I can’t think about it for too long as I really am sad about that aspect of our decision to take the year off. I’d love to be able to stay with my students as they progress through the 6 years of Foundations and see how they grow and mature, learn and experience all the great things there are to learn.

But as all families know, your own kids are the focus of your homeschool. So stay tuned for blog posts on “Year Five of Homeschooling the Smith Boys”  in the coming year. I’m already feverishly planning our fall semester, and I’m quite excited about what is in store for the boys and for me!

The CC campus, 2011-2012

The boys playing their tin whistles.

the older boys had a cub scout overnight this past weekend, and i decided at the last minute to join them (since other families were camping, and it wasn’t just a scout camping night).

we arrived friday evening around 6:00 and immediately pitched our tent. we have a new 8-person tent that is easy to put up, and the boys helped kenny so i could snap pictures. the boy scouts were busy starting a fire while we pitched camp, and then the boys found the rope swing, which kept them and their friends busy for at least the next three hours. until the marshmallows were opened. kenny and i didn’t leave the camp fire from 7:00 until 10:30 as the temperature was dropping rapidly.

the low on friday night: 28 degrees farenheit. that’s FOUR degrees below freezing.
the last time i camped, we did not have an air mattress. this time, kenny packed our queen air mattress (for my sake, i’m sure!). i was looking forward to sleeping on cushy air this night! unfortunately, when we got to our tent at 10:30, we noticed that our air mattress had a hole in it, and it was already nearly deflated.  time to put on my “happy camper” face and just get through the night. we were all armed with mummy bags that were rated to 20 degrees, i changed my clothes to warmer clothes and put on wool socks. the boys hunkered down into their bags and fell asleep and slept most of the night (a few bathroom breaks here and there). i found out right away that mummy bags make me claustrophobic. that’s not good when any exposed skin inside the tent immediately started to freeze. it was either claustrophobia, or freeze. i guess i chose the latter, as i froze all night long.

what got me through the night was thinking and then praying for all those who were having more uncomfortable nights than me. occassionally i thought about how katniss could survive the lows temps without a sleeping bag in the arena, and then i realized that was fictional. then i was thankful that at least the boys were sleeping soundly.  the night could have been so much worse, even though i was the coldest i’ve ever been, and you know how i don’t like to be even a little bit chilly!
when 5:30 rolled around, i think i had about an hour of sleep total for the night. kenny woke up and i told him it was already 5:30 – time to get up!  problem was, neither of us wanted to get out of our sleeping bags. i sat up and covered my head and he finally put on layers and started his camp stove for coffee. fifteen minutes later, he handed me a travel mug full of camp coffee: it was the best cup of coffee i ever had!  better than seattles best, better than caribou. i drank it inside my sleeping bag in a sitting position. i finally got warm enough to change into my clothes and met him at the campfire where he was heating up more water for the boys’ oatmeal.

i then drove home. i know, i’m such a wimp!  i waited to make sure there was a roaring fire for the boys to warm up at, since they weren’t starting off warm. rowan didn’t leave the fire, and the other two boys didn’t have much energy for the morning activities either. i drove back to pick them up at noon and we were all home, showered and thawing out by 1:00 pm. the fireplace, the hot shower, our warm pajamas all day long was a welcome treat after such a cold overnight.

the bottom line is: the boys had a great time. friday night at the campfire, eating s’mores and roasting marshmallows, playing with their friends on the jungle gym and rope swing kept them busy and warm. saturday morning wasn’t very fun for them, but it wasn’t enough to keep them from camping again! they’re excited for their next camping trip already!

i knew i had to take it easy, and not do any form of exercise until my toe felt much better.

eight days after the injury, i was back at the track and ran a full mile before stopping to walk. i know that’s peanuts to the majority of you reading, but it was encouraging to me. this morning, after a cup of black coffee, and a few almonds (for energy) i went back out and clocked a mile and a half. that’s half of a 5k!

what i learned from the toe injury: “i don’t feel like it” will never be an excuse not to run. i will run every opportunity i have. because i can.  when you have a real reason for not running, all you want to do is run. “i don’t feel like it” is an excuse, not a reason.

so get out there – pound that pavement! dance your run!

a month ago, kenny and i started talking about butchering one of them any way. if we continue to keep the female sheep born to the meat sheep (suffolks are bred for their meat), we will have more animals than we can handle. then we’ll just become “that stinky farm that has more poop than animals,” we’ll end up on the local news as animal hoarders and we won’t be keeping to our original farming plans…our “Constitution” as it were: to grow our own meat.

we ran our idea past the boys and it was unanimous: Poppy would be be the sacrificial lamb this year (normally we wouldn’t name the animals that are planned for future butchering…or normally they’re names are “chops” or “dinner” or “shank”, etc).

a butcher (meat processor?) who lives a mere 1.5 miles from us picked up Poppy this morning. i felt a mixture of sadness (because we were there when she was born) and relief (we are fulfilling her purpose). the boys wanted to be awake to see her go. they watched from their bedroom window.

it’s traditional to have a leg of lamb for Passover supper. we’ll have our roasted leg of lamb on Easter Sunday. because the ultimate sacrifical Lamb conquered death forever. for all of us.

so now…i will have a freezer full of chops, ground lamb, and another leg. i don’t like lamb meat. i like spinning their wool.

so she acted and did shows like Our Town and The Crucible…then onto Electra, Two Gentlemen of Verona, and The Three Sisters. Then Lysistrata (and is still heart-broken over not getting a role in Dancing at Lughnasa). Finally, she graduated college and moved to London where she saw great theater in the land of “theatre.” And when she mvoed back home to the States decided to try to audition again.

and it was no good.

she gave up after a few shows where the theater companies were anything but friendly, and the roles were always given to company donors, and she lost her love of being on the stage, but never for creating. she found a love of directing high school shows and even a community show or two.

and then she met him. he acted. and sang. and played piano. and didn’t care that the girl didn’t like to sing. he married her despite her flaws and even got her to sing one day. in front of PEOPLE! in church. they left their love of the stage on the back burner for several years as they began their family, getting involved in small creative roles here and there. but never on a stage or in a theater.  their three darling boys had a penchant for soccer and running and swimming, so years of sports teams were on the horizon for this girl and boy (now “mom and dad”).

but then one day, the boys started making plays and magic shows and songs with motions for their mom and dad. and mom and dad wondered if there was a way to introduce them to…the stage.

and then…a miracle!  (sorry, not really a miracle, but it’s a line in my favorite movie, Amadeus, when Solierie’s father begins to choke and ends up dying and he describes that as a miracle….i know it is horrible but it was a funny moment in the film) an open invitation to be in a local musical!

the mom and dad didn’t tell the boys that musical was called Cinderella (because really they had no idea who Cinderella was any way). and the boys grew to love their time rehearsing, and when the time came for the show to go on, the boys became enamored with the performance, the audience, the laughter and clapping, and friends backstage, and lots of cards and candy, and time spent with each other for hours on end.

~~~~~

we were proud as punch for the work that rowan and sawyer put into their first ever musical but come on…the stage parents of the younger cast need to be appreciated too. i mean i heard some stage parents lost toenails during the grueling week of tech rehearsals!  :)  i wouldn’t trade last week for almost anything. it was crazy, with late nights and way too much fast food, but it was a great experience for all of us.

the company members of Sing Hosanna! (the community who put this show on) were so great. we’ve never worked with such a big group of great people before. from the youngest of the young ensemble, to the parents who put in hours of supervising, to the show’s principle roles, everyone was so great to work with. i was so happy seeing kenny on the piano again. he works hard providing for his family, but i know he loves music so much. i was so glad for his creative outlet during this show (and i love seeing him in an orchestra pit!)

sawyer asked if we could start a new musical this week. i think we’re all appreciating the break, although we’re all experiencing a small amount of “let down.”  fortunately we had a big play date after our co-op yesterday to keep us from moping about.  and finally…i’m putting a full home-cooked meal on the table for dinner tonight!

Sawyer, Rowan, Anthony and Chesna:

Practicing the waltz before the show (with one of Cinderella’s stepsisters who helped the kids so much with their choreography):

Makeup! (Rowan was worried he had to put it on himself. I was relieved to find they didn’t have to!):

The Closing Number with fairy Godmother:

so this morning, we all slept in (yep, until 7:15!!!) and made pancakes and (turkey) bacon and eggs. then we all sat around and read, played the piano. around 9:30 kenny and i decided to take my spinning wheel to a local woodworker who specializes in antique spinning wheels. it was going to be a nice country drive, so we packed some snacks and headed out around 10:30.

on the way up north, we saw the most spectacular thing in a spring-budding tree. a bald eagle, perched directly over the road. we turned around to let the boys see it and to snap a few photos. it didn’t like us sitting right under him, so he took off right in front of us – a HUGE, lovely bird (click to enlarge).

we arrived in mercer at Nashannock Woods a few minutes later and were greeted by the friendliest, sweetest puppy-dog (and we aren’t dog people!) and a very kind woodworker named Chris. we brought in our wheel and were entertained by josie the dog while chris examined the wheel. his wood working shop was filled with antique wood – tables, chairs, spinning wheels, bowls, hutches.

after only 5 minutes of looking at the wheel he told us it was 150 years old, made in canada. it doesn’t need that much work – just a new bobbin and an adjustment to the “mother-of-all” and the pedal. spinning wheels are his specialty and his shop is full of different ones.

i’m so excited to pick it up in a few weeks and start practicing on some roving i’ve been saving up for when the wheel is fixed.

we hope to have the sheep shorn in the next few weeks and i’m getting the wool fleeces professionally cleaned (because…ewww!). i’ll card and rove them and then put the old spinning wheel to the test.

stay tuned for some more daisy-and-violet handspun skein.

instead of succinct answers that hinted at the truth and that used to satisfy him, i am now finding myself not even able to come up with an answer that might be even a little truthful. so i tell him, “i don’t know.”

i think it’s important for parents to be able to admit they don’t know all the answers. even to their little kids’ questions. i am okay with the fact that i don’t know the answer about lava and electricity.

i’m glad, at least, that they still come to us with questions. recently, rowan and sawyer asked me what hell was. perhaps if you’re a christian reading this, you are wondering why our 7- and 8-year-olds have not yet heard about hell.

because we don’t believe they need to know about it. and we think they need to know about Jesus and His command to love others and that is so much more important than to scare them into a false sense of security about “asking jesus into their hearts” so that they can stay out of hell.

there are blog posts and articles and even books written these days about the large exodus of young people (that definition doesn’t include me any more!) from the church. a lot of these authors believe they know exactly why.

Ken Ham and the fundamentalist side states that it’s because the Church isn’t teaching apologetics enough to its children.

This study at the Christian Post suggests several reasons, among them that the Church is anti-science and judgemental of those who have doubts or struggles with their faith.

i’d like to offer my own suggestion. what if young people are leaving the Church because they were told that the Church has all the answers. and when they are faced with problems that were brushed under the carpet in their home church, or told their “problem” was a Big Bad sin, or told that to question their faith/a certain interpretation of scripture was sinful, they felt duped.

since when is the Church supposed to have all the answers?  the Church is supposed to commune together, take care of its widows and poor, love each other no matter their “sin.” it’s not supposed to be the place where all the answers of our faith are answered. what if, instead, it was a safe haven for all those questions we have?

parents don’t have all the answers for their children as they raise, love, and nuture them. the Church should be there to love its members and its community, not claim to have an answer for all of their questions or problems.

so when my sons asked me about hell the other day, i didn’t lie. i know what people think of hell. i know what people think the Bible says of hell. so i told them that. and i told them that i believed differently, but that i’m still learning. and then i went farther.

i told them not to worry about it or think about it. i told them that we’re to listen to Jesus’ words about taking care of each other, and loving each other, and then asked them what they think that is supposed to look like in our life. following the words of Jesus is entering the Kingdom of Heaven on earth.

the conversation changed and i admit that i engineered the direction because i don’t want to scare them into making a decision about trusting Jesus now, and then finding out the reason they originally trusted Him was…well…bunk.

so as we raise our boys to trust Jesus and follow His example and His commands, i hope they experience the Church as a fallible community willing to embrace them no matter what. because that’s what they’ll get from their parents.

Leap Day!  It was a bad, bad day. A boy waking feverish in the night, and then our laundry room ceiling leaked poured rain water all morning due to heavy rain and a very old roof. Kenny had just walked into his office when I called him, begging him to come home and fix the leak (really, the word “leak” is such an understatment!). He did. He took the morning off, stopped at Lowes to get some roofing supplies, and drove all the way home to fix the roof. In the pouring rain. I married a saint.

My Birthday! I turned 39 on march 7th. I’m very opposed to hiding your age. What does that tell people?  Why are women not supposed to reveal their age? Why can’t we stand proud and tall at the experience under our belts?  I turned 39, was spoile rotten by my four guys, and now I’m counting down the days until my 40th birthday next year!  I can’t wait!

Kenny surprised me with theatre tickets. He arranged for a babysitter last Tuesday, and off we went down town Pittsburgh for dinner and a show. Dinner was at Olive or Twist and the show was around the corner at the Pittsburgh Public Theater (The O’Reilly Theater) where we saw Freud’s Last Session.  It’s a two-man show, a hypothetical meeting of Sigmund Freud and C. S. Lewis. We both thought it was really well done, and gave both men equal footing in the argument.

My favorite C. S. Lewis line, at the end: “My idea of God changes over and over again. He changes it.”

It’s been a long, long time since we’ve been to a show. We’ve seen a few musicals here and there, but a straight show, in an intimate theater like the O’Reilly is something we haven’t done in years. It was so good to be back.

The theater bug has bitten.

Observing Lent has been a part of my life for the past 15 years. It was not a part of my childhood, so when, as an adult, I began observing it, it was as though I had been converted to a new way of celebrating Easter Sunday.

Growing up in a non-liturgical church, you get surprised by Easter Sunday especially if it falls smack dab in the middle of a sermon series, instead of at the end of the Lenten readings. No previous Sunday is spent in lenten devotion, crawling ever-so-slowly to the glorious Easter morning.

Lent has a way of slowly, gently, urging us forward to the huge celebration that is Easter Sunday: the crux of our faith, the party at which we celebrate the God-Man who conquered death. I can’t fathom celebrating Easter Sunday anymore without having symbolically walked with Jesus in the desert for the previous 40 days. Without having given something…anything…up for Lent.

On Ash Wednesday last week, my facebook and blog feeds were filled with status updates and blog posts about Lent. Many quoted what a priest says as you receive ashes, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return.” And many were links to other blog posts or reviews of books that suggest giving up for Lent isn’t necessary and were encouraged to change the age-old practice of fasting, prayer, and alms-giving to something like “adding something each day to strengthen your walk with Christ.”

The purpose of the 40-day observance of fasting is a reflection of Jesus’ time in the wilderness before he was crucified. How can I identify with Christ’s suffering (even a little) by not denying myself something?

There will not be a smithical blog series on my journey through Lent, or how The Smith household observed Lent. The Gospel reading for Ash Wednesday is taken from Matthew 6: “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you…”  It is not only polite, but fully encouraged by our Lord to not ask what others are giving up for Lent.

Sounding a trumpet and looking sullen and starved from fasting won’t help us realize that our only hope is in Jesus, not in our piety.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. ” Psalm 51:11