The healing journey of a widowed, unschooling badass in Delaware.
I didn’t take many pictures today as we woke in our tent to rain and waited out the storms before heading out on the water at Lums Pond State Park.
The water was cold and the wind was warm. We saw herons, gulls, ducks, cardinals, and an eagle and the boys played on a little beach like it was June.
We joined homeschooling friends back at our camp for burgers and brussel sprouts on the fire.
After an exhausting day I love lying in my tent and listening to the sounds of the night.
We’re starting to get back into our rhythm with some fun building.
Thanks to Jessica at The Connected Life for these pictures.
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It was a small gathering, but we found excitement in discussing comics, graphic novels, manga, movies, and Apples to Apples.
We start our new comic book and graphic novel club tomorrow and it took me a while to find the right name.
When my girlfriend’s daughter gifted us tiny, plastic babies, this one reminded me of baby Thanos.
In Avengers: Endgame, a character makes an awkward suggestion to use time travel to go back to kill the film’s villian, Thanos, as a baby. Although shut down with talk of the particulars of Marvel Cinematic Universe time travel, it was a nod to both the “Would you kill baby Hitler?” question and the Mavel comics storyline exploring the possibility of killing Thanos as an infant.
Moral conundrums aside, the moment is hilarious.
Our comic collection is widely varied. I still have a huge, and largely worthless, stash from the 90s and my sons have been haphazardly accumulating books for years. I want to share our illustrated riches with our friends, but from Punisher and Deadpool to independent books delving into controversial social debates, I’m not sure where everyone’s limits will lie.
I hope that “Kill Baby Thanos Club” is provocative enough to let people know that this will be a censorship-free zone. I don’t aim to create controversy, but I’ve never shielded my sons from it and don’t have much skill in protecting anyone else.
The name suggestion started as a joke around the tiny toy, but it rang true as soon as it was uttered. I wanted to ask my girlfriend if she would mock up a logo for me, but she’s a professional and I hate asking for freebies. Unsurprisingly, she read my mind and sent me this image later in the day. It sealed the fate of the group’s title.
Huge thanks to the wildly talented Kristen Steele.
Home educators work very hard to provide all that they believe their children need. We are a supportive (regardless of state boundaries) community and help each other when called upon.
Please help stop another level of bureaucracy between us and our children.
Bonus point if you know who said that quote.
We restarted our Time to Build Lego club today. It’s been a long time coming as I struggled with organizing our massive collection and getting my house ready for guests again.
I’m not sure I could have done it without my girlfriend’s help, support, and creative problem solving. Together we got the workshop in more than enough order for the first of many fun building days.
Cooperation, competition, and creativity ruled the day.
I’ve carried this copy of Maus for over twenty years.
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I’m thankful for the bad guys. I’m thankful for the censors. They draw stark lines that show us where we belong and where not to tread. The book burner says, “Don’t read that,” and we read with hunger. The cancel culture drone says, “Don’t listen to that,” and we listen carefully.
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Our learning lifestyle doesn’t hold space for silence.
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Whatever society we had is breaking apart. Some value freedom of thought, speech, movement, and lifestyle. Some would trade those for safety, comfort, and a sense certainty.
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Freedom means responsibility and uncertainty. We are entering uncertain times as the stark lines become white hot, guiding us through a collective dark night of the soul.
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We went into the woods looking for kindling and litter. We found much more.
Mission accomplished.
Growing up with camping and a lot of outdoor play (and being a troublemaking boy), I have always loved fires. When I met my wife, her passion for tending fires inside and out drew me closer immediately. As we started a family and the boys approached school age, we sat at our fire pan and discussed the possibility of homeschooling. Soon that turned to discussions of all the things we were doing wrong. Yet, through all the mistakes, we saw the horizon becoming clearer. The potential of what we were attempting changed us. “Unschooling” and “deschooling” became the next wild topics around the fire after the boys were in bed. The ground under our assumptions start to shift; our parenting changed, our politics changed, we became Christians, and our priorities narrowed in focus.
Mary passed away during this process, five months after we were baptized into Christ’s arms. I got a cord of firewood delivered to the house during her short hospital stay. I still don’t know why. Irrational hope? A grasp at normalcy? Making the first declaration about things that would not change?
What I do know is that fire is magical. I remember Mary in every fire. There’s nothing more dynamic and active, yet calming. We were like that too. I was the flickering flames jumping about and she was the glowing embers, moving around the wood with relaxed intention.
Thank you for letting me share my memories with you. Have a blessed day.
I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart;
I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.
I will be glad and exult in you;
I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.
-Psalm 9:1-2
I am super pissed off at the world right now, but choosing to focus on the beauty that God has brought into my life.
We gathered for our weekly Allschoolers meetup and were surprised by pulled pork nachos on the fire!
Homemade tools, sporting jabs, and teamwork were the usual ingredients in our regular festivities.
This group has kept me warm, sane, and fed these last couple years. We defied Lockdown and came together to serve our children. What we found was a community that none of us knew we needed. I fucking love these humans.
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