After navigating through a few airports, large and small…..

I arrived to see the whole family had come out to greet me. The whole family, and one a stranger to me. Little Madeleine, born three months ago, over 1,500 miles from where all her brothers and sisters were born.

The first  day the family went in search of nature.

Johnathan aspires to the role of photographer:

Maria and I caught sight of an otter who was sunbathing in the small river that runs through the town square. Later he caught a fish and proudly enjoyed his meal.

Madeleine also had a big day.

She thought proceedings were interesting, and watched everyone carefully.

It was also slightly boring.

Child of God!

Books for boys can be hard to find, but when I asked the young men in our family which ones they couldn’t put down, they had plenty of answers. Here was the favorite cowboy stories and westerns they couldn’t put down:

Cowboy Picture Books

Pecos Bill by Steven Kellogg

 

 

7th grade+ Cowboy Books

Shane

The Virginian

 

Travel bags packed, plane tickets ready.

The Lenten wreath went up this afternoon, and putting away Christmas decorations now. The bitter cold and snow made it hard to part with the tree throughout the month, so I left it up extra long this year. But Lent has come, so it’s definitely time.

Several times I’ve made my own version of St. Brigid’s bread on Ash Wednesday, since the Irish saint’s feast is early February. My only change is that I used half whole wheat flour, and half oat flour (made by pouring oatmeal in the blender and pureeing for about two minutes) simply because I think it tastes  good that way. I don’t think this is the recipe I used in the past, since it was a little drier than I remember, but it still made a very nice ‘fasting bread’ for this week.

Mourning the tragic events in Florida this week. Words fail each and every time this world faces such an activity of depravity. Miserere Domine.  

Listening to this Gregorian hymn for the start of Lent. Translation here.

 

I am off to a terrible start with my New Year’s resolution to post at least four times a month. Life lately has not been overly busy, but it has been disorienting to say the least.

I rigidly controlled my routine through college, as the structure was the scaffolding preventing me from tumbling from the cliffs of textbooks into the whirlpool of homework. Now, I have to let go of that expectation to embrace a rotating work life.

 

Antipodes: the parts of the earth diametrically opposite, the exact opposite or contrary

 

Night shift, day shift. Routine, flexibility. Order, chaos. Hospitals never close, so much of my time is spent in the rocky transition period between polar schedules. Sometimes every gear in circadian rhythm protests loudly, preferring to run like clockwork.

I’ve never realized how much energy is saved by having routines. I’ve never had to debate whether I should wake up in the morning, but deciding when to start the day when “morning” is 7pm is exhausting. The first few months of this schedule I felt I walked on alternating sides of a fault line between nightlife and daytime, with seismic activity during each transition.

Now I’m beginning to have a set of routines around my new needs, and have begun getting up an extra half hour before starting out to enjoy the morning, making sure it includes coffee and Gregorian chant. And I know just how much of the day I can use ahead of an all night jaunt, and it often includes a trip to the gym to get some extra energy to start off.

I have taught and nannied many groups over the year, coming in contact with students from all educational backgrounds. I’ve taught a homeschooled science day camp three years in a row, and ballet classes four five year with a mix of student backgrounds. I’ve nannied for children who attend private and public schools, as well as for many homeschool families. Throughout these visits, several consistent themes emerged in what set the homeschooled children apart from their peers.

The differences can be subtle, yet they are distinct enough that I am usually able to guess a child doesn’t attend traditional school. Here are a few of the differences I noticed in taking both homeschool and public school students on field trips.

• Homeschooled children spent much more time in the moment. I spent an hour putting together a picnic lunch, we unpacked it and at beside the small waterfall at the center of our city. Had I done this for my siblings, or any of the homeschooled children I’d spent time with before, they would have loved every minute of this. I’m used to watching children explore the area and make the most of new surroundings. Usually, they would choreograph movie scenes on the rocking landscapes, look for new shells or insects, or collect sticks and build a miniature fortress. Instead, these children finished their lunch and promptly wanted to return home to their previously planned activities for the day.
• Homeschooled kids asked more questions. Walks with a homeschool group turn into an interrogative session quickly. Usually, research and discussion on the topics continue long past the conclusion of the field trip.
  
• Children in traditional school seemed habituated to field trips in and new experiences in comparison with those I grew up around. I noticed how they were used to being served field trips in an almost prepackaged format, being funneled through in a group with little time for personal decisions on where to linger and learn.  I took a family of public schooled children to the zoo, and was astonished at the way they simply walked through the exhibits. They never paused to read any of the signs or watch how the animals were behaving.
• Children who are homeschooled are used to being in mixed age groups. One effect of this is I notice that on trips they often spend a lot of time teaching the younger students what they know as they walk along. Since they are comfortable with many age ranges, can strike up a conversation with a peer their age, much older, or younger. Even a conversation with an adult is not daunting.

 

Outside My Window… frigid air coming in at -20 degrees below 0.

I am thinking…  very fuzzily, having just gotten off of three consecutive overnight shifts at the hospital.

I am thankful for… modern heating.

From the kitchen… Not much, as it has been a very busy week. I have been keeping a steady supply of fresh cranberry sauce on hand, as I found out last year how quick and easy it is to make. Cranberries are also full of vitamins and other healthy compounds.

One of my favorite things…  Lights glowing around the room. Christmas lights, an artificial candle, and small lamps bring some cozy warmth to the evening.

I am wearing…  sweaters and scarves. The heavy ones, which I just went hunting for at the back of my closet.

 

I am reading…  Some reflections from Mother Theresa from her private letters. A very interesting study of the meaning of Faith, and the differences in emotional and supernatural experiences.

Teresa of Avila spoke of God’s courting of the soul through many different methods. Sometimes, he does this through allowing His Grace to be near and felt, and the experience of joy is very pleasant to the senses. This felt prayer can be the only way we allow ourselves to approach our God in this world of constant pleasure and stimulation. Many of the saints have experienced an even deeper call from God when, after showing a soul the sweetness of His love, He withdraws this consolation. John of the Cross wrote that this pulls the creature to look past the earthly sensations and be aware of their complete and total need for God.

Mother Theresa wrote very honestly about this, and her words show the real meaning of complete faith, in good times and bad. A faith that illuminate not only the dark cities of India, but also the world as the nun gave witness to Christ before both the humblest dying on the streets and in the glow of the spotlights amidst world leaders.