honey for a child's heart

Rory and I attended the Minnesota Home Educator's conference back in April. I am eager to share a few thoughts on that weekend, as I came home with lots of ideas that could be applied to all parents, no matter how they are choosing to educate their children. But today I'm going to tell you about this book, Honey for a Child's Heart, that was mentioned over and over again in the workshops that we attended.

These paragraphs sort of sum up the author's thesis:

"That which is excellent has a certain spirit of literature present. The sensitivity of the reader says, 'This is true.' 'This is real.' And it sets in action something in the reader which profoundly affects him. It has been an experience- spiritual, imaginative, intellectual, or social. A sense of permanent worthwhileness surrounds really great literature. Laughter, pain, hunger, satisfaction, love, joy -- the ingredients of human life are found in depth and leave a residue of mental and spiritual richness in the reader. 

"If we familiarize our children with this kind of writing, then they have a ground for making comparisons. Not everything they read will be excellent, but they will know a story's possibilities. It will set their reading patterns into motion."

I found my copy at our town's book sale and got it for 50 cents, but my copy was published in 1978. Zondervan has continued to publish this book ever since, and you can get your copy here. (With a new picture on the cover, that makes you feel like reading might be fun!) If I had the means, this is a book that I'd buy by the case and hand out to each friend I know. Last week we had a playdate every morning and I kept my copy in my bag so that I could tell each friend about it.

The first half of the book sets the motivational ground work for why books are so powerful. I think we could all answer, "well duh" to that premise, but I am telling you the way she lays out the chapters was so inspiring. I have never been so excited about the great privilege of being the one who gets to present good books to my kids!

The second half of the book is her personal recommended book lists, divided by age group (preschool-3rd grade, grade four to six, teen and mature readers). It is so helpful! The lists are placed in order of complexity, so if you  have a preschooler you would start at the beginning, but you can find where your kid is in the mix. And she doesn't claim that the list is exhaustive, but does say that it would be a shame for your kids to miss out on any of these books before they leave your home. (Also, her list is not just Christian authors or Christian stories. A well written story will have the ring of truth.)

Then she has a section called Poetry is for Pleasure and gives her picks for  how to introduce poetry to your family. I've never been captured by poetry the way many are. Which is odd, since I do love words! So I am excited to introduce poetry to my kids with hopes that I catch the spirit too...

The final section is again divided by age groups and is titled, "Helping Preschoolers Through Third Graders Grow as Christians" Then she recommends books for 4th-6th graders and again teens to mature readers.

I am so grateful for this resource book and helping me in this area of my parenting. If you have kids that are going to be home for the summer, I would think you'd want to get your hands on Honey for a Child's Heart right away. Or if you have grandkids, nieces or nephews or kids in your life, I would imagine this would be an awesome resource to refer to when picking out gifts. Happy Reading!

bug motel

I have been telling the kids that I want to get them a bug motel so that we can watch the bugs and caterpillars we find. Tonight, while the five of us were playing in the rock box, I found a tiny caterpillar and Elsie lamented that we didn't have a bug motel and Rory explained that a mason jar was the original bug motel.

So we got a jar, put some rocks in the bottom and a few sticks slanted on the sides. We put a little water in the bottom and tossed in some grass and clover. And then we put in the caterpillar. I put some press-n-seal on the top with breathing holes and it was adorable. I wish so badly I had taken a picture.

Because moments later I found Ivar very sad on the couch. He told me he was sad we had taken the caterpillar from the rock box and that his mom and dad were probably looking for him. I assured him that there were no other caterpillars in that area where I was digging and he told me I should have digged deeper. I told him that I didn't think that caterpillars actually stayed with their mom and dad for very long, that they actually like to be alone. I've only ever seen them alone.

I got busy with something else, but the next thing I saw out the window was Ivar running from the rock box and into Rory's arms. Rory held him and Ivar cried and later Rory told me to write down these exact words as they came out of Ivar. Ivar told his dad, "I dumped him back out because I felt (began to sob) in my heart (loud wail) that he wanted to be in his home." And he cried into Rory's shoulder.

A few thoughts on this. Number one, Ivar is my son. I still personify most things and have a very tender heart that has clearly been genetically passed on to my boy. Number two, I am so glad Rory got that quote word for word. It's priceless. And Number three: Good thing I didn't spend ten bucks on a bug motel!

troybacca

Heads up! Sara is in concert Sunday night (if you're reading this on Saturday night, that means tomorrow night. If you're reading this on Sunday, that means tonight!) at Grace Church in Eden Prairie. The concert is a part of the Art Music Justice Tour with Jenny and Tyler and Brandon Heath and sounds awesome.

For over a decade Troy was Sara's manager. Now he just makes funny videos dressed up in full body wookie costumes. Not really. A few years ago he started working for International Justice Mission organizing large events like banquets and concerts that raise awareness and funds for the work of IJM. IJM works all around the globe rescuing girls from trafficking and freeing slaves.. They use the laws of each country to free the victims and to prosecute the captors. It is exciting work, important work, life-changing work and the stories of the people set free are deeply moving.

If you happen to be free, you'd enjoy this concert. The show starts at 7:30. Tickets are online here. Or you can get them at the door.

while I'm thinking of it...

Today Ivar told me, "Mom! We have to read-new these books at the library today!" I loved this little word mix-up. Now that he's five I feel more of an obligation to correct his kid words to the right words...but man, it's hard to do. I love the little kid language we have around here.

On that note, I think every three-year-old deserves an audience to follow them around and hear the awesome things that come out of their mouths. I told my parents that I can hardly explain it to another. The awesomeness is wrapped up in the inflection, the word order, the choice of words...all of it. And the running narration of a day is more entertaining than any professional comedian. Elsie is constant fun and I love age three.

It's garage sale season and I am in full swing. I love this time of year so much. We have found treasures and bargains and things I never knew we needed. But for that price?!! We'll take it! Even my kids are now trained to spot a Garage Sale sign.

In an ironic twist, I'm purging my house! Go figure. But when more stuff comes in, stuff has to go out. I am so tired of clothes. Anyone else? Kids clothes are incredible. Between growing kids, the change of season, awesome hand-me-downs (Not complaining! Totally grateful!) and a daughter who changes dresses and tights and sweaters and skirts eleven times a day, I just cannot take it anymore. I am drowning in clothes. Dirty laundry, clean laundry, clothes that need to be put away, clothes left on the bathroom floor, clothes discarded in every room.

But! I finally put all of our winter gear away! Snow pants, boots, mittens, hats and scarves have all been boxed up until next fall. I keep the winter coats out because I've fallen for that that one before. The second you put the coats away it drops to 30. Every time.

Rory and I watched Gattaca the other night and I really, really liked it. It's so seldom that we stumble upon a thoughtful, clean, entertaining movie that I feel like I should tell you about it. So I did. If you have Amazon Prime you can watch it for free at that link above.

Also, the night we watched Gattaca, Rory brought home our first watermelon of the season. I told him it was the most romantic thing he could have done. Added bonus was that the watermelon was good!

In other news, we adore our goats. Currently the baby is still named Precious and the mama goat is still nameless. Ivar wants to call it Olivia. He has no idea where he came up with that name...we don't have an Olivia in our family/friends/life. I can't quite get myself to call her Olivia, so I keep calling her Mama. But that's what I'm called. Rory seems to be leaning towards Olivia. A goat named Olivia? I'm on the fence on this one. Please weigh in.

Another random thought: I have been weeding this spring and I love it. You can read that sentence again. It's baffling to me too. But I read this blog post at The Rabbit Room, and the writer talked about how he loves to weed. He can't walk past a weed without picking it. The point of his piece was that it is okay to leave the weeds. But I heard the opposite. Ha! While reading it I sort of realized that weeds are the untidy thing in nature. And since I like to keep things tidy, this sort of flipped a switch in me. I have been out when I can, weeding the blueberries mostly. And it is hard to weed with a baby. But there is a really good, addictive feeling you get when you weed right after it has rained, and that weed pulls up nicely with a root attached.

Which brings me to my next point: I am getting old. My sudden appreciation of weeding is evidence of this. As is the fact that I was looking for a radio station recently and found Sting singing Roxanne on the oldies station. The Oldies Station! Kool 108 was playing Sting. And then Queen was next and suddenly I found myself all they way home having sung along to all the songs. Aging is a sneaky, creepy little thing.

I guess that's what's on my mind tonight: Olivia, Read-Newing books, Gattaca, Garage Sales, Weeds, Watermelons and Roxanne. There's always a lot going on in this brain of mine...

our first week with the goats

We are so attached to these goats already. And I know they are farm animals and not pets, but honestly, how do you tell your head and your heart not to get attached? It just happens. And we are all attached.

Our first week went smoothly except for the ten minutes that did not go smoothly at all. And those ten minutes are what I want to write about now.

We got our goats to help us with our grove maintenance. We want them to feast in our grove. We want to be able to walk through our woods again. We want to have an Oak Savannah again, and our goats are our plan. Which means we might have been a little eager to get them out and into the grove first thing. Thankfully Rory had spent the morning building a fence from the barn to the cabin. And thankfully the previous owners had goats back in the day so that there is a fence surrounding the grove, though we have cut openings in it for various projects and parts are down due to branches or trees that have fallen down. 

Rory wanted to get the goats to the smaller pen he had created out of electric fence, and had made leashes for the goats to walk them there. Well. Goats aren't super big into being walked. Or dragged. Or pulled. And at some point the knots came undone and Rory calmly stood with two concerned goats, not sure what this strange man wanted them to do next. The big kids and I were sitting in lawn chairs on the other side of the electric fence waiting to watch the show. Hattie was thankfully napping. (Hattie is awesome like that.) 

So Rory picked up the baby goat, knowing the mama would follow. He got the baby in the electric fenced area, but the mama circled on his wrong side, panicked because she was separated from her baby and charged the electric fence. 

And that was right about when we knew we were in deep, deep trouble. 

The Mama was zapped by that fence, by two lines, and bucked up and went bananas. At this point in the story I need you to add in your own audio track of two goats bleating their hearts out, a human-like noisy cry, incessant, and worried, "maaaaaaaaaaa! maaaaaaaaaaa!" I grabbed the kids and got them safely in the barn while Ivar sobbed, "Oh no! We lost our goats already! We'll never have goats again!" Rory spoke fast, "get me another rope." And all the while the two goats were running pell mell around our grove. 

At the same time our neighbor's dogs started barking, adding to the chaos. I kept waiting for the goats to head to the neighbors or for the dogs to come to us, but they never did. Rory got the goats to head towards the cabin and they came right up to the fence he had just erected that morning, where I stood on the other side. And then they turned towards the back side of the barn and my heart sunk. They were heading for the opening that was blocked only by electric fence...something they clearly had no regard for. One good run and they'd be in our field where they'd really be free. 

So they ran around the barn on the back side and I took off to catch them before they made it to the open field. And as I ran I thought, "Sweet Jesus! Make me bold so I can jump on that goat!" 

That was for real my plan. I was going to jump on the mama and go for a ride. I knew she had to be caught or we'd be chasing goats for the rest of our lives. Also noteworthy is that I only call Jesus 'Sweet' in moments of serious peril. I have a short list when my mouth has said Sweet Jesus! And every time it has been completely reverent, with all sincerity asking Sweet Jesus for some Sweet Supernatural help. Like right away. I said it when I watched Rory drop from the roof in front of the kitchen window when he was cleaning out the gutters and came upon a wasp nest. And I said it when our old barn came down. And now I said it again while gearing up to jump on a goat.

I came around the corner of the barn and watched in horror as they ran right towards me. I got myself ready but at the very last second, they turned right into their pen. Praise Sweet Jesus! Rory was on the other corner and I climbed through the electric fence (which must have been grounded and not on...we think the mama goat broke the circuit, lucky me, because I was just going to "run through it real quick" so I could get the door closed behind them. Ha!) 

We closed the door and stood in the pen with our two goats. I got the kids and went back in the house and then I got the giggles and laughed about it all night long. I told Rory the Good Shepherd could not have taught us more lessons in a shorter amount of time. It was actually quite the productive educational experience and there are about 14 mistakes that we will never make again. 

So we've spent the last few days building up trust with our goats again, and thankfully they seem to be rather forgiving.  The electric fence is now right next to the physical wire fence, their first open space is right outside the door to their pen so they can walk in and out as they please, they have been given actual dog collars and next up we will be mending the fence around the entire grove.

Truthfully, if you omit those ten minutes of intense goat school, it has been going great and we are glad to have mammals in our barn. The past few days they have been fed each morning and evening, but other than that, they're pretty low-key. And good thing because Rory's honey bees come tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want to sit still around here...