“You know the palm tree in the fairy garden that has three trunks? It’s kind of like the Trinity. It’s one tree, but three.” – A4
“Education is the Science of Relations”; that is, that a child has natural relations with a vast number of things and thoughts: so we train him upon physical exercises, nature lore, handicrafts, science and art, and upon many living books, for we know that our business is not to teach him all about anything, but to help him to make valid as many as may be of–
“Those first-born affinities
“That fit our new existence to existing things.”
Friends, it’s a new personal record. Fourth time in a year to lock my keys in the car. This time, it’s still running. With a full tank.
Ironically, earlier today I was thinking about how long it has been since I did that, and it must be related to my lower stress and anxiety.
(Thankfully, we can easily get a duplicate here, unlike Ukraine. Unfortunately, one of my sons had made key-breaking skillz, so my duplicate doesn’t work and I have to call roadside assist. Again. The guy knows me well.)
One of my most vivid memories from childhood is my mother pushing me on the swing and reciting Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem. We had a “little pink house on the corner” in Waveland, Mississippi. The house was on about an acre with tall pines. I remember watching my mother mow the lawn. I remember the smell of the pine needles and grass. I remember my mother telling me that it was good that the pine trees would bend and sway with the strong winds that scared me — the trees that bent in the wind wouldn’t break.
The playground was about a block from our house. I have memories of walking there alone, and sometimes stopping at the Tiger Mart across the street for a slushy. I remember hearing sounds carry through the warm, humid nights–the crackling speakers from the baseball diamond at that park in the distance and the cicadas nearby.
But the best times were when my mother came with me, and pushed me on the swing. Rhythmic pushing. Rhythmic recitation. Oh, how I love (push) to go up in a swing (push), up in the sky so blue (push). . .
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
A3 has been watching ants consume dead beetles, and yesterday he squished all the beetles on the porch to “help” the ants.
Later, he saw ants carrying a different type of bug across the porch and down the steps. We talked about how the Proverbs use the ant to illustrate hard work and cooperation.
He observed them for about 20 minutes and then was curious what would happen if he interfered with their work.
He blew on the beetle and ants, moving them off course. And laughed. And did it again, blowing the beetle and the ants off the ledge. The ants scurried frantically, but continued carrying the big along.