Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

Between conferences, we stayed in the same cabin where we’d honeymooned ten years ago.  Several things about our previous stay had stuck with us, shaping what we’d wanted in our new shared home and family: natural beauty (the cabin is on top of a mountain, and there is perfect silence around), lots of natural light, simplicity, and a window seat.  We’re still working on that last one, but I made good use of the window seat during our trip this time around.  We spent our time hiking, eating, and reading/writing (Sydney had a conference paper to finish up, and I needed to finish up some things from Boston).  It was lovely!

After our cabin stop, we headed on to Ithaca (which we also did ten years ago, when we started graduate school after our honeymoon), where I met up with a number of friends and got in some much-needed library time while Sydney attended a medieval philosophy conference.  We were very glad to be back in the town we first called home as a couple, and to see so many friends.

Now we’re back at home.  My parents just left this morning, with Nathaniel in tow, for their home in Iowa.  We’ll reconnect with them (and reclaim Nathaniel) at a Birdsong gathering at the end of June, but for now each house will have only one child in it.  We’re hoping that both kids will enjoy having some time to stake out their own interests and get one-on-one child with the family adults.  I’ll help Katherine continue making progress on reading, introduce her to piano, and stretch her legs with some hikes that would leave Nathaniel clamoring for a piggy-back ride. Currently, she’s tackling a series of jigsaw puzzles alongside her father–not something that’s easy to do with Nathaniel around!

Erin

After my Boston conference, Sydney surprised me by taking me through Massachusetts to the places we’d stopped on our honeymoon, including a butterfly garden.  Many of you know that I’m not too keen on bugs (yes, I include butterflies, pretty as they are), so the last time I went through that butterfly garden I went in and out of the door four or five times before managing to stay in.  Sydney tried encouragement, then pleading, and finally he reminded me that even small children were entering with delight.  “More fools, them,” I think, was the gist of my reply.  But we eventually had a good time and I liked getting to see the butterflies.  Unwittingly, I had worn red, which attracts butterflies.  Sigh.  This time around, ten years later, I only had to enter one time, and, for the most part, enjoyed seeing all of the different kinds of butterflies. 

Erin

One thing I’ve liked in both our Oxford house and our Wilmore one is that when you step outside you often catch a bit of the bells tolling from the colleges down the street.  Asbury’s bell usually plays old hymns that even I know, and they’re often ones written by Charles Wesley (hey, it’s a Wesleyan school).  Just now, I was sitting on the fifth floor of Cornell’s library, which is separated by a walkway from Cornell’s clock-tower (a local landmark visible from miles around).  It started to play “Pretty Woman” before it switched over to the school song.  Different tunes for different folks . . .

Erin

You can see the reflection of Grandma Birdsong in the background.  She’s been keeping us posted while Sydney and I are away.  After a week without my kids I’m getting a bit antsy, but thankfully today we get to Ithaca, where our friends’ kids will help me last until we get home this weekend.

Katherine has been bothered at the thought of finishing up kindergarten when we’ve talked about it a few times recently, but I reminded her that there’s an upshot to moving up to first grade: soon Mrs. Strait can return to being a family friend, and not only Katherine’s teacher.  Katherine seemed pretty happy with that.

Erin

Sydney and I are in Boston, after a long day of driving and a great evening and morning with friends in New York.  Sydney, unfortunately, has to be writing a paper this weekend while I attend conference sessions; he’d much rather be out bird-watching on the coast.  My parents are doing great things with the kids.  Mom has taken over various house projects that I failed at (ahhh, difficult laundry) and attempting to win over our skittish cats, and Dad, the engineer, is patiently sitting down with his grandson to build Lego structures.

Erin

Sydney and I leave on Wednesday for a whirlwind drive through the US: friends in New York, conference and friends in Boston, anniversary holiday by ourselves (10 years in August!), friends and conference in Ithaca, and then back home to relieve my parents of the children, at least momentarily.  We’ll be gone for a week-and-a-half.

While we’re away, Nathaniel will get to test his grandparents: if all goes well, he’ll be going back with them to Iowa for almost a month.  He’s excited, and has already make it clear that we’re no longer of much interest to him, since he’s moved on to replacement parents.  Katherine will also be wrapping up kindergarten, with a flurry of end-of-year field days, parties, and, oh, some learning.  Today she read half of the books that we settled in with from our recent trip to the library.

Sydney has been incredibly productive in the garden.  Every time I go to work or church I hear from friends how much they’re enjoying seeing the changes in our yard as they drive by; it’s a good thing we’re okay with the fishbowl life!

Erin

Katherine’s teachers encouraged us to use a particular computer program to keep up her language skills over the summer.  As I was checking it out, I came across the following synopsis:

“Lexia Reading Core5 provides explicit, systematic, personalized learning in the six areas of reading instruction, and delivers norm-referenced performance data and analysis without interrupting the flow of instruction to administer a test.  Designed specifically to meet the Common Core and the most rigorous state standards, this research-proven, technology-based approach accelerates reading skills development, predicts students’ year-end performance and provides teachers data-driven action plans to help differentiate instruction.”

These people are the ones teaching my child how to read and write?  Thankfully, I know that most of this nonsense is filtered by Katherine’s wonderful teachers.  Otherwise, we’d be home-schooling!

Erin

Nathaniel’s holding the craft we made in Sunday School this morning for all the kids to give to their mothers.  Nathaniel ordered me to trace his hand (I was the teacher this morning), and to cut it out, and then he immediately adopted a sweet voice and said, “I love you, Mama” as he handed it to me.  Hmm, so he treated me like a servant instead of a teacher, but then he was nicer to me as a mother afterward . . .

Erin

When we lived in Ithaca, the different parts of our life were complementary: when we wanted a reprieve from books, we hiked.  When school wound up in the spring, gardening took off.  When we needed to stay in and read, it was generally cold or even downright inhospitable outside. Yes, that’s excessively simplified and idealized (I remember one hot summer, wrapping up a paper while we all sweltered in May), but, still, it seems that life has gotten infinitely more complicated since then.

We now have children who are not content to be put off until our students’ grades are submitted (or, even, until the work day is over), we’re now juggling multiple school schedules, and we’ve moved to the South, where the spring warms up just when the work gets heaviest for us and our students.  I’m wrapping up grading during finals week right now, and it’s been hot for quite a while here in Kentucky.  Academic gowns that were originally designed for cold medieval Europe (Oxford’s hoods are still fur-lined) are one of the most-loathed parts of our upcoming graduation weekend.  It’s supposed to be 88-89 degrees during the ceremony . . .

Lots of interesting changes in our life both now and in the near future.  One of my former students is going to rent our basement for the summer, we have both a lovely Japanese maple tree and more topsoil coming on Saturday, and we only have two weeks until Sydney and I head out for a long conference/anniversary trip while Grandma and Grandpa Birdsong take over here.  We’re not sure we’re really ready for all of this, but we’re still quite excited.

Erin

This morning we headed out early for a trip to Daniel Boone National Forest, about an hour-and-a-half from our house.  Poor Sydney: he planned and gave us all lots of advance notice, and we were out the door by 7:15, but as we were winding our way through the forest during the last ten minutes of our drive we realized that Nathaniel had left his shoes at home.  Sydney had told him to put on his shoes and get in the car, and Nathaniel only did the second part.  Sigh.

So we resigned ourselves to some whining and extra hurdles, but we decided to push on, and we tackled two hikes, one 2 miles long and the other 1 mile long.  The first was beautiful.  And this coming from someone who lived in Ithaca!  The great beauty helped us make clear even to the kids why it is worth heading out on hikes. We saw numerous interesting rock structures, and we stopped at this one so that the kids could sit in what appeared to be a natural child’s seat, carved out in the stone wall.  Nathaniel has no shoes, and Katherine has her pants on backwards (why, child?), but otherwise we’re in decent shape.  We followed tumbling streams, saw lots of caves, and even waded across a stream (so cold!) to get to the sandy beach below.  By this point, we were all sandy, we’d all removed our shoes, and Nathaniel was only marginally more of a mess than the rest of us.  But it was a lot of fun.  There were a lot of people out today, with cars parked haphazardly along the roads, but things were still incredibly quiet everywhere we went.  And it was amusing watching groups of a variety of ages and numbers tackle the stream-crossing.  Since the rocks were very slippery, usually one in a party got a wet backside; Katherine was our family’s contribution, and it took a while for her to forget about her wet pants.

With Nathaniel riding on my shoulders for half the hike (ugh, this kid is like a sack of potatoes), I didn’t get to charge ahead or look up at the rich forest very often.  But we did see a lot more things that are at kid-level.

After a picnic, both kids revived a bit, so we thought we would try one more short hike.  The area is known for its rock bridges, like the one we encountered on our first hike. 

Halfway into our second hike, along the spine of a hilltop, we found ourselves facing this:

We quickly grabbed the kids’ hands and inched our way across, and it was breathtaking.  Both kids were amazed at the smooth rock underneath their feet (by this point Katherine had voluntarily removed her shoes in solidarity with Nathaniel), and by their unobstructed view of the valley on both sides of the bridge.  And no, in case you are wondering, there isn’t a guard rail to be seen, and the drop is precipitous, as you can see from the view we had below, once we’d worked our way underneath the bridge (the kids and I are sitting on a rock in the bottom left corner, to give you a sense of scale).

Although the Bluegrass region of Kentucky, where we live, has natural beauty of its own, the fierce, steep, wooded terrain of this area felt more like home to us, and I know we’ll be going again very soon.  Next time with shoes.

Erin