New quarter

Some of the ingredients of our back-to-school-ish morning...

• Math Mammoth (this curriculum is more spiral than linear and I felt compelled to start assessing their skills going back to Grade 2 to cover our bases...for anyone who saw "Grade 2" on the cover of the book and freaked).  after doing a bit of research and thinking and discussing, Cap and I have decided not to buy a general curriculum for Gem, at this time.  we're going to continue developing content ourselves for everything but Math and Foreign Language (we're using Math Mammoth and Rosetta Stone for those).  we're going to plow through the Grades 2, 3, 4, Intro to Fractions, Multiplication 1, Multiplication 2, Division 1 and Multiplication and Division 3 books (yep, that's a lot of material) at a more rigorous pace this quarter (compared to last year).  as we approach the end of November/December, we will see where we are and assess whether we want to explore a different Math curriculum.  if the kids were attending our local public schools, Sag would be going into fifth grade this month, Gem into sixth.  we'd like to get them in the ballpark of "caught up" as would be reflected in their functional day-to-day needs, as well as, would be reflected on a standardized academic test.  while, of course, not having their natural curiosity in topics of mathematics, or the general process of learning, be diminished.

• snacks.  so key with us.  the scrumptious Macintosh apples and wheat-free tamari almonds helped carry us through to lunch.  and, my coffee juice.  very important (today's brew is Peet's Ethiopian left in our kitchen by Mary and Nate).

• tools at the ready: a clean table, sharp pencils (and our trusty excellent pencil sharpener---not photographed), eraser, good quality ruler that has its own place for simple retrieval and clean up, and my laptop.

• Thich Nhat Hanh.  we started our work session by sitting and reading/hearing the following insight:

"Your true home is in the here and now.  It is not limited by time, space, nationality, or race.  Your true home is not an abstract idea; it is something you can touch and live in every moment.  With mindfulness and concentration, the energies of the Buddha, you can find your true home in the full relaxation of your mind and body in the present moment."

I think we may incorporate these weekly.  A peaceful way to provide food for thought and living.  Something to chew on, with time, as the week progresses.

Peace and love.

The ties that bind

Many of these are rooted in the sense for me...

I love weather days like today.  A chilly bite to the breeze, cloudy and windy and then sunny and bright.  Where in the world is it like this year round?

Normally, raspberries freak me out a bit.  I put one in my mouth and it feels all wrong.  I taste a smell when I eat a raspberry.  These berries were so velvety ripe and delicious that I got over my initial sensory dissonance and ate half of them in seconds.

I've been a bit worried about this bush.  It looks sparse and sickly compared to years past.  The blossoms are stunning in cloudy light.  That magenta...I love.

I could have sworn the tulip tree blossoms had already fallen.  Maybe this is a second harvest?

My mom likes thee flowers and I always think of her when I see them.  Pretty purple lovelies.

Sometimes the ties that bind come to me in the way someone uses words to weave a "sense"...as in common sense...living sense...emotional sense...universal sense...

From the maiden issue of Taproot:

Hold onto what is good

even if it is a handful of earth.

Hold onto what you believe,

even if it is a tree which stands by itself.

Hold onto what you must do

even if it is a long way from here.

Hold onto life

even when it is easier to let go.

Hold onto my hand

even when I have gone away from you.

---Pueblo verse

Peace and love.

Stardust, we are

This never gets old.

Pause

Oh my goodness.  YES.  Words to live by.

"Everything is practice..."

Loved today's post from Zen Habits.

Peace and love.

Romantic mysteries

Sharing this via Facebook, from my SIL, Amy.  One of those things that, to me, makes so much sense that I'm surprised I haven't thought of it this way before.

Words, truth, story

Loved this so much I'm subscribing to his blog again.  Loved this so much I'm subscribing to her blog again.  And thus, my Google Reader expands.  Time to trim soon.

Yes

"I know we live in a highly scheduled world where every nanosecond is charted and often critiqued by others and ourselves. Ours is a results-based society and we oftentimes create a frenzy of “must-dos” and “must haves” that complicate a life that was intended to be a peaceful unfolding of possibilities, lessons and blessings."

For the full piece by "Shirley" from "Community" (whose episode last night was nothing short of brilliant and breathtaking!) go here.

Piver on discipline

I really dig her.  Read here.

Thoreau

  image pulled from web.

"We live but a fraction of our life. Why do we not let on the flood, raise the gates, and set all our wheels in motion? He that hath ears to hear, let him hear."    -Henry David Thoreau

I came across this Thoreau quote today and fell into a memory.  Sent spiraling with a smile.  I dig this guy.

Addendum

Then your sister-in-law posts this on Facebook and you think, thank you Universe, this makes much more sense (than the book I finished this morning).  And, see what I would have missed if I curtailed my time online?  :-p

Some choice excerpts (the author's name is Susan Piver):

Marriage is a commitment to share love, have sex and try to stay together with this one person, right? Well maybe, but I couldn't promise to do these things. I knew I couldn't say, "I do" to love--feelings change, and keep changing. I also knew I couldn't say yes to wanting to have sex with him for the rest of my life--desire is unpredictable. And ask him to commit to me? Which me? I couldn't commit to remaining the same me. So if you can't say yes to love, sex, or remaining the one each fell in love with, what are you agreeing to when you commit to a relationship?

I said yes to the unfolding, impenetrable arc of uncertainty. I guess I thought that finding love was an endpoint, that some kind of search was over and I would find home. We would leap over the threshold together into whatever we imagined our ideal cottage to be. But really we stepped through a crazy looking glass. No matter how hard we tried, how madly in love we were, or how skillfully we planned our life together, there was complete uncertainty about what the connection would feel like from day to day. I could give all the love I had (with great joy) and get back a blank stare. I could wake up as my crankiest, most sullen and narcissistic self, roll over, and greet the face of unconditional acceptance. Or not. It's like the weather: you can try to read the signs and guess about atmospheric conditions, but really there's no telling.
 
As far as I can see, the relationship never stabilizes, ever. In which case you can't actually promise each other anything. This is how it works. I have no idea why.

I wish I had known that when you live with someone for a long time, there is continuous, mind-blowing irritation. (Okay, I did know this, but I forgot.) Often the irritation arises when you try to replace your actual partner with who you wish he or she was, because they always figure out a way to tell you how unlike your projection they really are. Once you pick yourself up, that gives you yet another opportunity to choose between who this person is and who you sort of hoped he or she was. No matter how many times I prompt my husband with the correct lines for his role, he does not get into character. This irritates me. We have to throw away the script and just begin to improvise. You're playing you and I'm playing me. Go.

I didn't really understand that love does not arise, abide, or dissolve in connection with any particular feeling. It has almost nothing to do with feeling. (Nor does it seem to be a gesture, a commitment to stay, becoming best friends, or anything else I might have thought.) Love has become a container in which we live. Through time, riding mysterious waves of passion, aggression, and ignorance (and boredom), I think we began to live within love itself. At least I did. Each time I have opened up, extended myself, accepted what was being offered to me, stepped beyond my comfort zone to embrace him, the structure has been reinforced. I no longer have any idea if I love my husband or not. I can't imagine what the feelings I have for him could be called. I've even given up trying to love him. Our relationship is what gives us love, not the other way around. This is how it is.
 
And here's something else I've learned about a relationship: Okay, so it's not what you think it's going to be, the feelings are always changing, and you're going to have to say goodbye someday. But when you find your true love, there is something inside that simply and inexplicably says hello to him. Yes to him. Of course to him. Certainly. Obviously it's you. There is no choice. I do.

Laughing

It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia makes me laugh.  Takes me out with bursts of breath shaking my body and mind and when I return to my senses I am grounded in renewed equilibrium. 

I can't believe it's taken me so long to give this show a whirl.

Coincidentally in my Inbox this morning:

Laughter is mental, laughter is emotional, laughter is physical, and laughter is spiritual. Laughter helps us find balance. If we get too angry, laughter will turn that emotion in a balanced direction. If we have a mental picture of someone who is too strong, laughter will help ease the tension. If the body is stressed, laughter will release natural relaxants into our muscles and our nervous system. Laughter often changes our attitude. We need to lighten up and laugh more.