fa-so-la-la
Today I was late for class for the first time. I am now a bona fide college student.
August 30, 2007
John Adams catches military fever:
-------
"Oh, that I were a soldier! But I will be-- I am reading military books."
How Like Him.
"Oh, that I were a soldier! But I will be-- I am reading military books."
How Like Him.
August 29, 2007
Overheard in the Kitchen
Great Scot
I happened to overhear the following last night:
Spuddy Buddy: "[Beatrice] it would be cool to be a Viking."
Beatrice: "But they don't have any bathrooms."
Spuddy Buddy: "They have the whole ocean!"
Beatrice: "Ewwwwwwwww."
There is a man who understands Thoreau: "Simplify, simplify."
I happened to overhear the following last night:
Spuddy Buddy: "[Beatrice] it would be cool to be a Viking."
Beatrice: "But they don't have any bathrooms."
Spuddy Buddy: "They have the whole ocean!"
Beatrice: "Ewwwwwwwww."
There is a man who understands Thoreau: "Simplify, simplify."
August 24, 2007
In Which We Learn What Christopher Robin Does in the Mornings
fa-so-la-la
"What does Christopher Robin do in the mornings? He learns. He becomes Educated. He instigorates-- I think that was the word he mentioned, but I may be referring to something else-- he instigorates Knowledge."
What a week.
I very much wish I could have posted when I came home on the first day, last Thursday, but it simply Wasn't To Be. And since then life and homework have successfully confederated to make sure that I didn't post. But today I was sneaky and cunning and cleverly captured a stray 45 minutes to spend with you Gentle Readers.
I've always thought that one of the greatest misfortunes of the modern school calendar is that one must start school in the middle of the hottest weather all year. It simply isn't right. I mean, in picture books, children wear sweaters and caps to their first day of school; in the real world we start the school year off wearing as little clothing as we can in good conscience, because the great outdoors is by that time something akin to a pressure cooker. Maybe this doesn't bother some, but it deeply disturbs me. I always did want life to be like picture books.
Well, I couldn't wear a sweater to the first day of school, but I did other things to bring on the academic mood. For instance, I bought a lunchbox. A Hello Kitty lunchbox. And a black composition notebook-- you know, the kind you instantly think of when you think 'notebook?'-- and two Pink Pearl erasers. Now, technically, I didn't neeeeeed a black composition notebook, and there are erasers on the end of every pencil, but since when has life been all about practicalities such as those? What I says is, if buying a notebook and two erasers makes you feel like starting school, then do it, whether you have notebooks and erasers at home or not. (note: having used those erasers for a week now, I'm remembering why I love them so much. They work better than any other kind, much better than the one on the end of the pencil.)
Of course you've already read Mamadah's account of last Thursday. I am happy to report that she sent me off with only a reasonable amount of Motherly Anguish. I was so blessed by the prayers before I left. I try and remember now to pray every morning before I get out of my car on campus because of what a good beginning that was. As I drove to school that morning I kept trying to convince myself that it was actually happening. The reality of it finally kicked in when I found myself waiting in a hallway with 15 other people for my first class to begin. It was very strange. Sometimes, with things like this that you've planned for and thought about for a long time in advance, it's odd when it ceases to be something abstract in your head and on your calendar and instead becomes a campus and parking lots and books and classes, real things and real people all around you.
With one week down, I'm getting a better idea of what my classes are like. I think I'm going to enjoy my Government class-- it's been very interesting thus far. Algebra is boring and befuddling by turns as always. Rhetoric (basically freshman composition) has promise. We've had some interesting class discussions, and it'll be good to exert some discipline in writing. I just wish the essays in the textbook weren't so liberal. Bleh. Choir is shaping up nicely-- we're doing a Halloween concert, which, if not exactly what I would have wanted, will still be fun. But my favorite is voice. We had our first 'real' (as in not spent going over the syllabus) voice class today, and I'm really excited. I have a wonderful piece -- Oh Had I Jubal's Lyre, by Handel. It was a felicitous choice on the part of my teacher because I love the words, I love the way it sounds, and it suits my voice. I got to sing it with accompaniment for the first time today-- it was exhilarating! I can't wait to polish it.
The last week has been one long whirl. I've had to think through things that I'll probably never think much about again-- where to park, the quickest walk from each class to the next, how to use the lounge computers, how to budget time so's to not arrive late for things (I'm discovering that everything takes longer than I think it will), and, oh yes-- how to open a locker. An amusing and protracted little episode, that. Involved 3 days, at least 3 dozen failed attempts, a few bangs on the door, and a trip to the Info Depot wherein I swallowed my pride and asked the guy working there how to, um, open a locker. I felt rather silly. I mean, school children do it every day. But then, the beehive doesn't have any lockers, so how would I know you have to turn the knob around to zero a few times before the combination?
This is part of what makes starting college so vivid and strange for me. I have absolutely no school experience. None. For most people, it's college itself that's new. For me it's not only that, it's institutional schooling in the first place. It's strange to be away from home for hours every day. I happen to like being home a lot; I've spent most of my life there. What an odd departure from the past to get up every morning and leave.
I feel very triumphant tonight. It looks as if I made it through the first week in one piece. I haven't lost anything, I haven't wrecked poor faithful old Elwood, I've stayed on top of my homework, I haven't been late for anything, I've looked both ways before crossing every street, I've figured out a whole bunch of stuff, and I've enjoyed all of it. It's been a good beginning, and for that I'm thankful.
Some transitions are so abrupt. From Wednesday to Thursday life changed completely and permanently-- it will never be like it was again. An era has passed. Life gets bigger and bigger, and I feel very old and very young at the same time. But I think I'm going to like this era too.
But enough of that. I must go read about Visual Rhetoric and Search For Truth through Mature Reasoning and Inquiry.
What a week.
I very much wish I could have posted when I came home on the first day, last Thursday, but it simply Wasn't To Be. And since then life and homework have successfully confederated to make sure that I didn't post. But today I was sneaky and cunning and cleverly captured a stray 45 minutes to spend with you Gentle Readers.
I've always thought that one of the greatest misfortunes of the modern school calendar is that one must start school in the middle of the hottest weather all year. It simply isn't right. I mean, in picture books, children wear sweaters and caps to their first day of school; in the real world we start the school year off wearing as little clothing as we can in good conscience, because the great outdoors is by that time something akin to a pressure cooker. Maybe this doesn't bother some, but it deeply disturbs me. I always did want life to be like picture books.
Well, I couldn't wear a sweater to the first day of school, but I did other things to bring on the academic mood. For instance, I bought a lunchbox. A Hello Kitty lunchbox. And a black composition notebook-- you know, the kind you instantly think of when you think 'notebook?'-- and two Pink Pearl erasers. Now, technically, I didn't neeeeeed a black composition notebook, and there are erasers on the end of every pencil, but since when has life been all about practicalities such as those? What I says is, if buying a notebook and two erasers makes you feel like starting school, then do it, whether you have notebooks and erasers at home or not. (note: having used those erasers for a week now, I'm remembering why I love them so much. They work better than any other kind, much better than the one on the end of the pencil.)
Of course you've already read Mamadah's account of last Thursday. I am happy to report that she sent me off with only a reasonable amount of Motherly Anguish. I was so blessed by the prayers before I left. I try and remember now to pray every morning before I get out of my car on campus because of what a good beginning that was. As I drove to school that morning I kept trying to convince myself that it was actually happening. The reality of it finally kicked in when I found myself waiting in a hallway with 15 other people for my first class to begin. It was very strange. Sometimes, with things like this that you've planned for and thought about for a long time in advance, it's odd when it ceases to be something abstract in your head and on your calendar and instead becomes a campus and parking lots and books and classes, real things and real people all around you.
With one week down, I'm getting a better idea of what my classes are like. I think I'm going to enjoy my Government class-- it's been very interesting thus far. Algebra is boring and befuddling by turns as always. Rhetoric (basically freshman composition) has promise. We've had some interesting class discussions, and it'll be good to exert some discipline in writing. I just wish the essays in the textbook weren't so liberal. Bleh. Choir is shaping up nicely-- we're doing a Halloween concert, which, if not exactly what I would have wanted, will still be fun. But my favorite is voice. We had our first 'real' (as in not spent going over the syllabus) voice class today, and I'm really excited. I have a wonderful piece -- Oh Had I Jubal's Lyre, by Handel. It was a felicitous choice on the part of my teacher because I love the words, I love the way it sounds, and it suits my voice. I got to sing it with accompaniment for the first time today-- it was exhilarating! I can't wait to polish it.
The last week has been one long whirl. I've had to think through things that I'll probably never think much about again-- where to park, the quickest walk from each class to the next, how to use the lounge computers, how to budget time so's to not arrive late for things (I'm discovering that everything takes longer than I think it will), and, oh yes-- how to open a locker. An amusing and protracted little episode, that. Involved 3 days, at least 3 dozen failed attempts, a few bangs on the door, and a trip to the Info Depot wherein I swallowed my pride and asked the guy working there how to, um, open a locker. I felt rather silly. I mean, school children do it every day. But then, the beehive doesn't have any lockers, so how would I know you have to turn the knob around to zero a few times before the combination?
This is part of what makes starting college so vivid and strange for me. I have absolutely no school experience. None. For most people, it's college itself that's new. For me it's not only that, it's institutional schooling in the first place. It's strange to be away from home for hours every day. I happen to like being home a lot; I've spent most of my life there. What an odd departure from the past to get up every morning and leave.
I feel very triumphant tonight. It looks as if I made it through the first week in one piece. I haven't lost anything, I haven't wrecked poor faithful old Elwood, I've stayed on top of my homework, I haven't been late for anything, I've looked both ways before crossing every street, I've figured out a whole bunch of stuff, and I've enjoyed all of it. It's been a good beginning, and for that I'm thankful.
Some transitions are so abrupt. From Wednesday to Thursday life changed completely and permanently-- it will never be like it was again. An era has passed. Life gets bigger and bigger, and I feel very old and very young at the same time. But I think I'm going to like this era too.
But enough of that. I must go read about Visual Rhetoric and Search For Truth through Mature Reasoning and Inquiry.
GON OUT
BACKSON
BISY
BACKSON
BACKSON
BISY
BACKSON
August 16, 2007
endings are beginnings
q. shenaynay
She just left. I mean, she actually did it. For real. Fa just got in her cute little car and buzzed off to college. So I guess it's true after all. She grew up.
::sniff::
Right before she left, she and Beatrice and Spuddy Buddy piled up in my bed with me and we all held hands and everybody took turns praying for her -- for all sorts of things for her, and thanking God for all sorts of things about her and about the fantastic years we've had learning together here at home, and also for all the blessings He has in store for her in the years to come.
It was our way of releasing the dove.
And then Beatrice and I pestered her silly about whether she had pencils and notebooks and lunch money and sunglasses and bottled water and a spare bandaid and her little purse Bible and sunscreen and her cellphone and gas in the tank and an umbrella (so there's not a cloud in the sky, but still)...
And then she was gone.
Now, okay, I know she'll be back around 5:30. I know this. But still, there are moments in life when you know you're standing on a hinge, and as soon as it swings open to the next thing, life will never again be quite like it was -- time yet again for re-invention of reality. This morning was a hinge moment for us.
Today, I am more glad than ever that we homeschooled Miss Fa. She walked out that door this morning with her feet planted solidly on God's earth, and her spirit rooted firmly in His Heaven. She knows what's what and why and how. I was given the gift of 18 years of my life to pour everything I had -- everything God gave me -- into her. I know I didn't do everything as well as I could have. Daily I think of some thing or some book I wish we still had time to cover... but the time is past, and we must be content with it. And what a gift that time was. And what better way did I have to spend those 18 years?
Hallelujah... and a big heavy sigh. For mothers, the two sometimes go hand in hand. And we wouldn't have it any other way. Endings are always beginnings... which reminds me of one of my favorite Fa poems.
Oh goodness, she didn't take a sweater and I bet those classrooms are freez..... okay, I'll stop.
No, I won't. Ever.
She just left. I mean, she actually did it. For real. Fa just got in her cute little car and buzzed off to college. So I guess it's true after all. She grew up.
::sniff::
Right before she left, she and Beatrice and Spuddy Buddy piled up in my bed with me and we all held hands and everybody took turns praying for her -- for all sorts of things for her, and thanking God for all sorts of things about her and about the fantastic years we've had learning together here at home, and also for all the blessings He has in store for her in the years to come.
It was our way of releasing the dove.
And then Beatrice and I pestered her silly about whether she had pencils and notebooks and lunch money and sunglasses and bottled water and a spare bandaid and her little purse Bible and sunscreen and her cellphone and gas in the tank and an umbrella (so there's not a cloud in the sky, but still)...
And then she was gone.
Now, okay, I know she'll be back around 5:30. I know this. But still, there are moments in life when you know you're standing on a hinge, and as soon as it swings open to the next thing, life will never again be quite like it was -- time yet again for re-invention of reality. This morning was a hinge moment for us.
Today, I am more glad than ever that we homeschooled Miss Fa. She walked out that door this morning with her feet planted solidly on God's earth, and her spirit rooted firmly in His Heaven. She knows what's what and why and how. I was given the gift of 18 years of my life to pour everything I had -- everything God gave me -- into her. I know I didn't do everything as well as I could have. Daily I think of some thing or some book I wish we still had time to cover... but the time is past, and we must be content with it. And what a gift that time was. And what better way did I have to spend those 18 years?
Hallelujah... and a big heavy sigh. For mothers, the two sometimes go hand in hand. And we wouldn't have it any other way. Endings are always beginnings... which reminds me of one of my favorite Fa poems.
Oh goodness, she didn't take a sweater and I bet those classrooms are freez..... okay, I'll stop.
No, I won't. Ever.
August 15, 2007
Chuck Norris
Great Scot
There are a number of friends of the Beehive that are interested in "facts" regarding Chuck Norris. I came across a list of these, which reportedly were picked by the "Big Man" himself. Some of them are:
- When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
- Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
- There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of creatures Chuck Norris has allowed to live.
- Outer space exists because it's afraid to be on the same planet with Chuck Norris.
- Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
- When Chuck Norris does a pushup, he isn’t lifting himself up, he’s pushing the Earth down.
There are a number of friends of the Beehive that are interested in "facts" regarding Chuck Norris. I came across a list of these, which reportedly were picked by the "Big Man" himself. Some of them are:
- When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
- Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
- There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of creatures Chuck Norris has allowed to live.
- Outer space exists because it's afraid to be on the same planet with Chuck Norris.
- Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
- When Chuck Norris does a pushup, he isn’t lifting himself up, he’s pushing the Earth down.
August 12, 2007
...let me to Thy bosom fly...
q. shenaynay
Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high!
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past...
The Beehive blog has been quiet for a while. To everything there is a season, and we needed a summer break after Fa's graduation. June and July were a capsule of precious time for our family. We celebrated my parents' 50th anniversary, Great Scot's 50th birthday, Fa's 18th, Spuddy Buddy's 8th. We went to singing school, camp, and a big church meeting in Memphis. Definitely a time to live large now and blog later.
And now, as another school year approaches -- our 14th year of homeschooling -- our family is facing many new seasons in our lives all at once. Fa soars away to the next exciting phase of college life... Beatrice and I soar into a precious three year span of being together one-on-one for her last three years of high school... Spuddy Buddy soars into that wondrous phase of discovering the thrill of tearing through real, honest-to-goodness chapter books and conquering the world of little league and astronomy and losing baby teeth and just generally being a super-sweet, wonderful stinker of ridiculously handsome boyness.
But sometimes life brings us a season to soar and a season to struggle for dear life -- literally -- all at once. As many of you already know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer last week. Three tumors, two different types of cancer. Please pray for us.
In the smaller storms of life we have already passed through, we have learned by experience to cling in steadfast faith to the One who promises not to leave us comfortless, the One who sticketh closer than a brother, the only One who can calm any tempest...
Other refuge have I none;
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee:
Leave, oh leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me!
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head
With the shadow of Thy wing.
He who knit me together in my mother's womb knows every cell of my body, the good ones and the fallen ones, and He reigns sovereign over them all. The team of physicians who will commandeer and rearrange my besieged body in the days to come must, whether they acknowledge it or not, work within natural laws He created, and on a human form He designed. I am thankful for all the brilliant people on my medical team, but I also know that only the Great Physician, the Lord Jesus Christ, can truly heal me...
Thou, O Christ, art all I want,
More than all in Thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick and lead the blind.
Just and Holy is Thy name;
I am all unrighteousness;
False and full of sin I am;
Thou art full of truth and grace.
The Lord has faithfully led me thus far in my life, and thus I trust Him to show me through this trial what He wants the rest of my life to be. In the past week, I have cried out to Him in horror and agony... and I have felt His grace like I have never felt it before. The Psalmist said to the Lord, "Thou hast showed Thy people hard things; Thou hast made us to drink the wine of astonishment." Truly He has done both this past week. He is astonishing me continually, showing me things about His reign over my life that make me want to fall on my knees before Him in awe. Truly His grace is sufficient for every trial...
Plenteous grace with Thee is found,
Grace to cover all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound,
Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.
Life is the thing. We have always liked life here in the Beehive -- we live it pretty large, as you may have noticed. The Beehive has always been a blog about LIFE. None of us want The Beehive to become a cancer blog. Actually, I'd like very much for it to remain a beacon of normalcy in our lives -- a place where life is still lived hard amid much laughter and rejoicing and silly celebrations over everyday wonders. A place where cancer doesn't try to tell us what to say and how to act. We need that.
So, although I'm sure we will mention it here and there as it inevitably weaves its way into our everyday life for a season, I will probably not be posting in-depth cancer updates here. Here is where we will continue to talk about life and living and living life and living it real big. Because that's who we are.
Please pray for me, and for my dear, suffering family. Pray especially hard for Spuddy Buddy. This is all very hard to take when you're only eight and your Mamadah is the center of the cosmos. As you Beehive regulars know, he loves me "to the moon and back and all around the universe."
And as you pray for us, please think on this... perhaps you have never needed the Lord as desperately as I do right now, every single minute of every day. But someday you will. Count on that. And when you do, I am here to testify from my experience just over this past week -- the darkest week of my whole life so far -- that He will be there for you, every single minute of every day, and in ways that you cannot now imagine. And it will be what you live for. So praise Him for that NOW. He is faithful, and He is glorious, and His promises are true. Praise Him. Now.
Jesus, Lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly...
.
Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high!
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past...
The Beehive blog has been quiet for a while. To everything there is a season, and we needed a summer break after Fa's graduation. June and July were a capsule of precious time for our family. We celebrated my parents' 50th anniversary, Great Scot's 50th birthday, Fa's 18th, Spuddy Buddy's 8th. We went to singing school, camp, and a big church meeting in Memphis. Definitely a time to live large now and blog later.
And now, as another school year approaches -- our 14th year of homeschooling -- our family is facing many new seasons in our lives all at once. Fa soars away to the next exciting phase of college life... Beatrice and I soar into a precious three year span of being together one-on-one for her last three years of high school... Spuddy Buddy soars into that wondrous phase of discovering the thrill of tearing through real, honest-to-goodness chapter books and conquering the world of little league and astronomy and losing baby teeth and just generally being a super-sweet, wonderful stinker of ridiculously handsome boyness.
But sometimes life brings us a season to soar and a season to struggle for dear life -- literally -- all at once. As many of you already know, I was diagnosed with breast cancer last week. Three tumors, two different types of cancer. Please pray for us.
In the smaller storms of life we have already passed through, we have learned by experience to cling in steadfast faith to the One who promises not to leave us comfortless, the One who sticketh closer than a brother, the only One who can calm any tempest...
Other refuge have I none;
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee:
Leave, oh leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me!
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head
With the shadow of Thy wing.
He who knit me together in my mother's womb knows every cell of my body, the good ones and the fallen ones, and He reigns sovereign over them all. The team of physicians who will commandeer and rearrange my besieged body in the days to come must, whether they acknowledge it or not, work within natural laws He created, and on a human form He designed. I am thankful for all the brilliant people on my medical team, but I also know that only the Great Physician, the Lord Jesus Christ, can truly heal me...
Thou, O Christ, art all I want,
More than all in Thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick and lead the blind.
Just and Holy is Thy name;
I am all unrighteousness;
False and full of sin I am;
Thou art full of truth and grace.
The Lord has faithfully led me thus far in my life, and thus I trust Him to show me through this trial what He wants the rest of my life to be. In the past week, I have cried out to Him in horror and agony... and I have felt His grace like I have never felt it before. The Psalmist said to the Lord, "Thou hast showed Thy people hard things; Thou hast made us to drink the wine of astonishment." Truly He has done both this past week. He is astonishing me continually, showing me things about His reign over my life that make me want to fall on my knees before Him in awe. Truly His grace is sufficient for every trial...
Plenteous grace with Thee is found,
Grace to cover all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound,
Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.
Life is the thing. We have always liked life here in the Beehive -- we live it pretty large, as you may have noticed. The Beehive has always been a blog about LIFE. None of us want The Beehive to become a cancer blog. Actually, I'd like very much for it to remain a beacon of normalcy in our lives -- a place where life is still lived hard amid much laughter and rejoicing and silly celebrations over everyday wonders. A place where cancer doesn't try to tell us what to say and how to act. We need that.
So, although I'm sure we will mention it here and there as it inevitably weaves its way into our everyday life for a season, I will probably not be posting in-depth cancer updates here. Here is where we will continue to talk about life and living and living life and living it real big. Because that's who we are.
Please pray for me, and for my dear, suffering family. Pray especially hard for Spuddy Buddy. This is all very hard to take when you're only eight and your Mamadah is the center of the cosmos. As you Beehive regulars know, he loves me "to the moon and back and all around the universe."
And as you pray for us, please think on this... perhaps you have never needed the Lord as desperately as I do right now, every single minute of every day. But someday you will. Count on that. And when you do, I am here to testify from my experience just over this past week -- the darkest week of my whole life so far -- that He will be there for you, every single minute of every day, and in ways that you cannot now imagine. And it will be what you live for. So praise Him for that NOW. He is faithful, and He is glorious, and His promises are true. Praise Him. Now.
Jesus, Lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly...
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
