One of my most favorite things about the Advent season is the beautiful music that comes bursting on the scene as if packaged and tucked away for a whole year only to explode in glorious song at the close of the Thanksgiving holiday. Music is such a vital part of Advent that I don't think it would be the same without it. Concert halls resound with orchestral Christmas classics, churches echo the angelic choruses from the choir lofts and carolers warm the hearts of neighbors with their simple harmonies. Some of my personal favorites are those nostalgic Christmas tunes I grew up listening to on the family record player: Bing Crosby's White Christmas, Nat King Cole's The Christmas Song and Gene Autry's Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I loved that last one so much I begged my mother to sing it to me every night of the year! There is something about music that touches the human soul.
By Jennifer Taylor Yesterday marked the first day of Advent. This season of expectation is present everywhere you turn. People are bustling with their Christmas shopping, smells of cinnamon and warm cookies fill the air, and the town transforms into a magical wonderland of twinkling lights. The atmosphere is rich with the anticipation of this most wonderful time of the year.
One of my most favorite things about the Advent season is the beautiful music that comes bursting on the scene as if packaged and tucked away for a whole year only to explode in glorious song at the close of the Thanksgiving holiday. Music is such a vital part of Advent that I don't think it would be the same without it. Concert halls resound with orchestral Christmas classics, churches echo the angelic choruses from the choir lofts and carolers warm the hearts of neighbors with their simple harmonies. Some of my personal favorites are those nostalgic Christmas tunes I grew up listening to on the family record player: Bing Crosby's White Christmas, Nat King Cole's The Christmas Song and Gene Autry's Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I loved that last one so much I begged my mother to sing it to me every night of the year! There is something about music that touches the human soul.
2 Comments
By Sarah Lancaster Every day I get up, read a bit, brew my coffee, and turn on my iPad. With a quick tap on the screen, I can connect to other Mason educators, scroll through ideas on Pinterest, order a book (2 day delivery, please and thank you), catch up on news, share a joke, or enjoy a picture of my best bud’s darling new baby. I can also waste time and money, get sucked into fruitless arguments, covet my neighbor’s new things, and generally breed dissension in my community and dissatisfaction in my own heart. The internet‒or, as I like to say in my best Suspicious Granny voice, “the Interwebs”‒is a double-edged sword, isn’t it? How do we, as home educators, harness it’s potential without letting it run away with our satisfaction and sense of peace?
Right off the bat, let me say that this is not another rant against social media. As an extrovert who doesn’t get much time to go out, but who hungers for actual adult interaction, I happen to enjoy social media. I have an active Facebook feed, I regularly interact on a homeschool forum, and obviously I blog for the CME Retreat. I have a few podcasts and blogs that regularly feed my soul and correct my steps. I have met some incredible friends online, some of whom have become real-life friends also. The Interwebs and I... we’re good friends. However. I have moderated in the AmblesideOnline forum for almost five years now. In that time, I see some of the same questions, fears, and insecurities rising up again and again. Let’s take a look at a hypothetical homeschool mom; we’ll call her Joan. Joan has been reading Charlotte Mason, and she is inspired and excited. She has settled on the curriculum she is going to use, but she has a few details to work out. Like many good 21st Century educators, she hops online. Let the mind games begin... By Karen Canon It is that time of the school year. You spent your summer soaking up the sun, pre-reading books, making lists and envisioning days of happy learning in your home. Perhaps you are a veteran homeschooler and you carefully crafted your school term and learning plans, relying on experience to anticipate obstacles ahead. Or, perhaps you are newer to homeschooling and it was your idyll, supported by a clean school room and fresh school supplies, which carried you along. Either way, you started out strong. Everything went along swimmingly and yet, at the end of the term, the results were less than satisfying. All the lovely lessons of the term are not there at instant recall and the children's exams leave you tempted to be discouraged, disappointed and your confidence in those warm days of books enjoyed and narrated together is shaken.
It happens. It is why structuring your school year in a series of sprints makes the long distance we have to go do-able. We build in time, not just once a year, but intermittently, like rest stops on a journey so that we can look behind and ahead and make those corrections to our course that might be needed. Charlotte Mason was familiar with this. She even wrote a letter to her 'Dear Bairns', former students of her teaching college, offering them wise advice. By Dawn Rhymer
"Look closely. Can you see it? It's just got to be there."
She was lying on her back, her arms outstretched before her, holding her science journal up against the black, star-flecked sky, a chart taped in place, her red flashlight dimly illuminating it as her eyes studied the page before her and then shifted to the sky. Perhaps if our neighbors' lights were off. Perhaps if the glow from the nearby town was not so bright. We were supposed to see it with the naked eye; it should have been there. "One star, two stars, hop, hop, hop." I silently sang the made-up song in my head, trying to get my bearings in the sea of stars. I began to slide, my slick, polyester sweatpants being a very poor choice to wear inside an equally slick, polyester-lined sleeping bag on a slanted roof. I was too lazy to climb down the ladder to go inside and change, but I did make a mental note to be sure that next time we were using and wearing the proper gear to stargaze on the roof, especially leading into the winter months. The temperature on this night had already dropped into the thirties, and the six-year-old, who had joined us on our adventure, had now confiscated most of the blankets. She wasn't even looking at the stars but was a huddled mass in the cave she had created and had no interest in leaving. The temperatures in the months to come would be bone-chilling, but I tried not to think about it as I laid beside my budding astronomer who seemed unfazed by both the temperature and her younger sister's actions. "I think I can see it, Mom! I can! I can!" By Misty Sena Just the other day my girlfriend from a land and time far away sent me an email. She had stumbled across this blog and Sarah’s post and happened to see my picture here. This dear friend has recently added a beautiful new babe to her lovely little family. She wanted to know how I conducted school after the twins were born and how I continue now that they are coming up on their “terrific twos” (terrific as both amazing and terrifying… ahem). And terrific they are. Not one of my other children ever flung spoonsful of oatmeal at all, let alone 14 feet in every possible direction. If one cannot reach mischief, his twin will help him push the heavy chair to the kitchen counter or boost him over the baby gate. They cannot undress themselves yet, but they can undress each other….. Back to the subject at hand. I’ve been asked about schooling in the midst of chaos with littles underfoot a few times over the last year. So I thought I would take this opportunity to write a response to Sunshine (name changed for privacy to reflect the personality of the woman I once knew) and share it with others. Dear Sunshine,
I do not expect this response to be tidy or perfect. Life is messy, a bit like an artist’s studio where masterpieces are in process. There are handprints on my walls and laundry piled high. The older children are currently outside my window “making ink from wood ash”. This may explain at least some of the handprints and laundry. I do hope that in sharing my heart your burden will feel lighter. |
CMER Blog
At the CME Retreat Blog we hope to share with you more information about a Charlotte Mason Education, the retreat, the speakers, the workshops and so much more!
Join us on Facebook.
Categories
All
Archives
January 2018
Subscribe
|