I can’t find my copy of Ivanhoe. I know exactly where it used to be—in Virginia. Hmm. Guess I’ll have to make a quick trip to the library to tide us over until it turns up. Or maybe I’ll just do something wild and crazy like pick a different book. Robinson Crusoe? Oliver Twist? Oh, the delicious agony of choice!
Flexibility is king in our little homeschool. Okay, maybe not KING. More like court jester. Yes, that’s it: always ready for an interjection. Nothing ever, ever goes according to plan. I don’t call my plans "plans" anymore; they are merely "suggestions."
For example, Scott had planned to go to work today. Then his back went out. Perhaps it had something to do with his having to hold our almost-six-year-old at an awkward angle so that her vomit would land on the floor instead of our bed. This morning he could hardly walk, so I suggested he take his medication and stay in bed. (Hey, he gave himself his own little Gift of the Magi there, didn’t he? Saved the bed from getting thrown up on, and now he’s stuck in it?)
The older girls and I went ahead with the launch of our CM term this morning. Beanie is feeling much better and was happy to play with flower fairies on the couch while Jane and Rose and I read some of those nifty books we’ve been talking about. Feels good to be back in the groove, even if the groove is a little lopsided.
You guys have asked a ton of great questions in the comments lately. I’ll be answering them throughout the week—at least, that’s the
Chesterton and Dickens
“He imitates the world he drove away…”
Help Me Out