We have “officially” started back to school.  We are concentrating on a Charlotte Mason approach this year and I am borrowing lots of good ideas from Ambleside Online.  We are doing short lessons in the morning in math, copywork and reading.  There is still lots of time to play outdoors which is a high priority for me.  Today all three of them rode their bikes in front of our house and played in the yard.  When they came in to do schoolwork, they seemed ready to settle down and work on their math workbooks.  There was actual quiet in my house for those 20 minutes or so!  Then after a short break we did copy work:

Hurt No Living Thing by Christina Rossetti. 

Hurt no living thing:
Ladybird, nor butterfly,
Nor moth with dusty wing,
Nor cricket chirping cheerily,
Nor grasshopper so light of leap,
Nor dancing gnat, nor beetle fat,
Nor harmless worms that creep.

This is a great poem and dovetails nicely with the yogic philosophy of non-violence, something I am concentrating on this week.  Later today, we plan to make rice krispie bars, have teatime, and read some more.  I also hope to get some cleaning done.  And maybe we will even watch the Nancy Drew DVD we picked up from the library. 

Songs of Innocence-The Schoolboy

by William Blake

I love to rise in a summer morn
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me.
Oh, what sweet company!But to go to school in a summer morn,
Oh! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn
The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.

Ah! then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour;
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning’s bower,
Worn through with the dreary shower.

How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
And forget his youthful spring?

O, father and mother, if buds are nipped
And blossoms blown away,
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care’s dismay,

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?

Yesterday was cloudy and cold and everybody was dragging.  It has been a long winter here for which I have no complaints.  It has been great for ice skating and sledding and snowboarding and just plain playing outside.  But it is April and thoughts are turning towards spring and warm weather and the growing season.  We are ready to let go of the winter weather and move into a new season.  Papa had a bad headache and I was needing a good nap to perk me up.  And it was that time of the day when we usually stop and have a bite to eat and I indulge myself with hot tea and something yummy.  

The other night I had read something on the internet about HSers who regularly participated in Tuesday Teatime, a time when all else is put aside so that one can put on a special tea party for their children complete with china, treats and hot beverages.  During this tea time, the children are invited to read poems and of course, the moms, too, take the opportunity to read from some of their favorite poets.

 Yesterday, despite my low energy level, I was able to accomplish putting together a “Tuesday teatime” even though it was Saturday.  Somehow, I found the energy to lay out one of my late mother’s table cloths and busy myself with making the table look warm and inviting.  There were lighted candles, teapots, fancy china tea cups, saucers and plates.  There were lovely little decorated Easter eggs adorning the table and there was my family sitting around the table.  Even my dh, who had been lying on the couch, joined us and seemed pleased with the layout of food and fineries.   I was impressed that a little effort toward making a beautiful table for tea time could bring the family together and lighten the mood the way that it did.  My dear husband even added to the ambiance by putting Bon Iver in the CD player - a perfect match for our day.  I would like to do this Tuesday Teatime once a week, if possible.  I plan to read bits of poetry and maybe some other books to the kids during this time.  Saturday’s tea time was such a day brightener, I have got to do it again.

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost

This is the poem that my former college professor recited to his students on more than one occasion.  It was said that he made many of his students memorize this poem.  At his funeral mass at the Basilica of Saint Mary, three poems were read.  The last one was this poem by Robert Frost.  The whole congregation was invited to read it out loud together. 

I learned a lot from this gentle and humble writer, poet and teacher.  I am grateful that I was able to be a student and a writer in Jon Hassler’s classes.  I wish that he had more time to spend here on earth with all of us.  The literary world has lost a good writer, friend and teacher.  I plan to re-read some of his works this year.  And I plan to memorize this poem.  Jon Hassler died on March 20, on the cusp of springtime.  He left this world much too soon.  But his words, his books and the lessons he has taught all of us will go on forever.