(Oh, before prayer, run over to the old house, make sure pipes didn’t freeze, and adjust heat.)
2. Prayer of gratitude.
3. Copywork – some of 1 John 7, the first reading at Mass.
4. Drawing. This leads to good discussions about how to look, how to see.
5. Math. I was told that yeah, yeah, yeah, he gets percentages just fine, so can he just move on? Sure. Time for…square roots! 9-year old, continued on division.
6. That all took a while.
7. Back to Latin. As I’ve said before, we’re doing it casually, using the Visual Latin program, as well as familiarizing ourselves with Latin prayers and Mass parts. I don’t think I would recommend it for a more classroomy approach – and indeed, after we finish this, we’ll go to a textbook and hit it more seriously, but it’s serving as a good introduction. Relative pronouns today. Antecedents were mentioned, which led to reinforcement of yesterday’s mini-vocab spurt about lateral, posterior and ante ….
8. And then, somehow, we ran out of time. I’m still not quite sure how that happened.
9 Pizza for lunch. People, that is the best pizza dough. Make some once or twice a week (depending on your consumption level) and have it in the fridge at all times. Crank up the oven, pull out the dough, make yourself pizza. It’s insanely simple and just as good if not better than your local $15 artisanal pie.
10. I had the 12-year old start a writing project about the differences between the Hobbit book and movies. Today, he just brainstormed.
Then it was off to piano lessons, basketball practice and scouts. Dinner at Johnny’s in between all that – meat n’ three that’s elevated just a not-pretentious touch beyond the usual. I had a really delectable bowl of Hoppin’ John Soup. Soon to be made in a kitchen near me.
Reading. What’s being read around here besides the 2014 NFL Handbook, gifted for Christmas?
I’m reading Schroder
(reading it all tonight…for a book group that meets tomorrow) as well as Adam Minter’s Junkyard Planet,
which is absolutely riveting. Love it – thanks to Jen Ambrose for,
years ago, alerting me to Minter’s journalism. I’ll have more to say about it when I finish it. Let’s just say for now that one of the reasons that I’m enjoying it is that it is not bound to any narrative.
That, to me, is the most tiresome aspect of contemporary discourse – the dominance of the narrative. Hardly anyone speaks or writes from a position of truth-telling. We are far more interested in propping up or striking at a narrative. It’s exhausting and stupid.
It’s probably also a reason why I have backed off from more substantive blogging over the past few years. It’s not just that I don’t have another adult at home who can assure me, once the computer’s turned off, that the world is really not insane, and neither am I (not too much), but also that I find it very challenging to construct and sustain a conversational path in this landscape dominated by competing, superficial and most of all defensive narratives. I’m so bored by that and quite frankly find it amazing that people spend so many precious hours in our already brief lives constructing, deconstructing, defending and attacking said narratives.
12-year old is reading The Hobbit for the second or third time. 9-year old is starting the Narnia series with The Magician’s Nephew. Along with frequent Calvin and Hobbes breaks along the way.
In addition, I ordered up a year of Cartozia Tales.
The first two came yesterday, and were promptly devoured by both. It’s a very interesting conceit. Check it out .
Last week while the boys were in Florida, I watched a couple of movies. For real, from beginning to end.
Really liked The Way, Way Back
and probably identified way too much with the Allison Janney character The last scene of the film was killer and perfect, a wordless recapitulation of an entire film.
was the subject of a rave by someone on my FB feed, but I have to confess I didn’t love it. The performances were excellent, the backstory is fascinating
, and well, Paris.
But I sort of reacted against the Magical Negro
vibe I got from it, especially when I learned that the helper, in real life, is a middle-aged Arab guy. It had its moments, but as a whole, it annoyed me.