End of Semester Floppy Brain

The pool opened today, so we took a well-earned break from syllabus writing, and headed over. The water is still quite icy, but it will feel like bathwater soon enough.

I will be able to relax once the damned thing is en-route to the Board of Ed. I'm about five good days from finished, and I'm already dreading the course. Oh well, there's always maths! Maths will always love you.

This photo perfectly illustrates how divided I am. Equal parts light and dark. Right down the middle. I'm trying to summon some enthusiasm for teaching, but the end-of the-year burn-out is keeping it at bay. Thank god the pool is open. I do my best thinking watching the college students sitting poolside, thumbs flying on their phones. I'm pretty sure they're texting the person sitting next to them-you can tell by the way they occasionally turn face-to-face and say something. I watch them and think, "If only someone had made them read Renaissance Humanists, they'd have something interesting to text to their friends."  That's a lie. I don't think that at all. I think about them pissing in the pool, not showering off sun lotion before getting in, and being generally horrible young people that stay out all night drinking, and then sleep it off all day poolside because none of them have jobs. Except for the sweet girl that lives a few doors down from us-because she has a job, and isn't the type to piss in the pool. But the rest of the lot are rotten.

I have to teach the Reformation this year as well. Fun. Second semester I'm teaching the Spanish Civil War, and WWII. More fun. Toss in some English, maths, and science to keep it all intolerable interesting, and that's the way next year is shaping up.

It was such a long year. I'll feel like a person again after that syllabus is submitted. Then, I can sit at the pool all day. Maybe I can get a college student to show me how to text message (I have never sent one-no idea how that works). Or sleep. Sleep would be good. Wake me around the first week of September.

Meanwhile...

I'll be working on these pale, pasty legs of mine.

Keeping the Museum Safe From Unattended History Students

The sign on the door at the Saunders County Museum stopped us in our tracks:
"No Unattended Children Under 13 Permitted."

We'd taken Danny on a field trip to a local museum, but I guess it was a good thing we didn't send him there alone. Wahoo, Nebraska is a very small town. It wouldn't be impossible to be on a first-name basis with most of the neighbourhood children, or at least know their family. There certainly isn't anything in the collection that would be attractive to steal, and aside from a wide, spacious staircase the place doesn't seem terribly dangerous requiring adult supervision. We couldn't imagine the rationale for this rule, so we asked.

The docent informed us that "Children under thirteen don't have a reason to be there without an adult." She mentioned that some underage museum goers had recently shown up, and she had to turn them away. She sounded annoyed that they still tried to gain admission even after seeing the sign. Imagine that, children begging to be admitted to the local museum! They must have been up to no-good. What possible reason could those delinquents have for wanting in a place like that?

Mr. ETB reckons it has more to do with liability, fear of something that, could happen, however unlikely. I've never heard of small town children being kidnapped from the local museum, but the fearful may believe there's danger lurking in the dark corners behind the player piano, and the baseball exhibit. Speaking as someone who spent many an unaccompanied hour wandering the Oriental Institute gawking at mummies in a neighbourhood considerably riskier than Wahoo, Nebraska I think perhaps this policy is misguided. The thought of children interested enough in the history of their county being turned away at the door is really heartbreaking. Would it be so terribly difficult to give them a guided tour if it is so dangerous for them to be there unattended? The place is small enough to cover in ten minutes. There is every reason for children to be in a museum, attended or not. Not every parent can, or is willing to spend time accompanying their children to a museum (or library, or park). The website claims to have programmes for children, accompanied children, anyways.

"Hey you damn kids with your history books, and curiosity...get outta here!"

Projects, Ideas, Weekend

* Edited to add the corned venison. Yep, I'm brining it for two weeks and with any luck, I'll have something to serve Mr. ETB on blackbread with sauerkraut. I've obviously done this with beef, but the venison roast was new territory for me. I can't believe I did this whole post and forgot the most interesting part. That's it, I'm taking my sick arse back to bed.




The Great Backyard Bird Count began today. We have been watching in 15 minute increments.

I'm sick. So. Damn. Sick. Coughing, nose-blowing, all manner of misery. I did what any sane person would do-I defrosted a large container matzo-ball soup, made ice cream, and mixed up the dough for a batch of Chelsea buns to rise overnight in the fridge. I'll update with the results of the overnight rise. I do this with cinnamon rolls, so I don't really see why Chelsea buns would be that different. We'll see.

The nasturtiums and pea shoots growing in my sunny window are thriving nicely. I always feel like I'm cheating winter keeping my window box garden, though I have to admit this winter has been pretty mild. The bay laurel is thriving as well. I love being able to go pluck a bay leaf off my tree in the dining room.

Sunday With a Scientist at Morill Hall is snakes this month. I think I could pass on that, particularly with being ill, but I suppose the kid will want to go.

24 February is public viewing night at Behlen Observatory in Mead (weather permitting).

I have been spending evenings and weekends working on a hand-written/illustrated cookbook for Danny. I've been trying to fill it with basics and funny stories from his childhood. I'm using a large bound sketchbook, and so far (I'm about halfway through it) I really like how it is turning out. The internet and blogs are great, but I I thought he might appreciate something a bit more personal. He's already sworn himself to bachelorhood, and feels prepared as he knows how to make a pot of tea and whip up sardines on toast. Just in case he wants to branch out, I'll have something to present him with.

I made a crumb-topped raisin pie today-and I have no idea why. I loathe raisin pie. I must be having some sort of Illinois nostalgia (scratch that-I never feel nostalgic for Illinois) or I was down to dried fruit in the larder (True, that). Maybe the rest of the family will like raisin pie as they lack the childhood associations.

I made a Ploughman's Pickle last week that turned out terrific. Did I write down what I did? No, sadly I did not. It was just odds and ends of apples, carrots, courgettes..damn it, I never think it worth the bother to write these things down as I go and then I end up with the best pickle of my life and I can't recreate it. I'm going to but a dry-erase board for the kitchen lest this ever happen again.

Kiddo eats half an apple each morning with breakfast. He likes a variety, so by the end of the week, I have various apple halves tightly wrapped in cling film. Today, I fried some with onions, thyme and butter. Perfection.

Are you familiar with puffy drop sugar cookies made with sour cream? They have a sugar top and a raisin in the centre. Last week, I made use of some, halved as mini-strawberry shortcakes with sweetened whipped cream. Everyone thought I was a genius. I was just lazy, but shhhhhh don't tell anyone.

I don't know why black history only gets a month, but I figured one of the reasons I homeschool is to cover material I deem relevant. Monday, we start, Soul on Ice. I'm pretty sure that isn't in the local curriculum. After we cover the American history, I'm going to do an in-depth African history course over the summer. I figured I'd take it by region, chronologically. I had Danny run through listing as many African countries as he could, off the top of his head. He only missed two, so I feel pretty confident he'll be able to keep things like the historical Kingdom of Mali from the present day Nation Mali. Or I'll confuse the hell out of him, and then we'll start over. Again, homeschooling gives me that luxury. I've yet to find a decent general overview African history textbook, so I'll probably use a number of texts and primary sources. I remember getting a copy of Facing Mount Kenya when I was about ten and thinking it was pretty interesting.

I have a squirrel problem again. I don't mind them outside. Sometimes I really miss city living. He can't get into the living quarters of the house-but I heard the little fucker in the wall...again. I could really do without a squirrel in my wall. Ideas? Anyone?

Hey! Have a lovely weekend.

New Museum

Here's a sentence I never thought I'd hear myself utter again:

"I think we need to go to Chicago."

The brand-new, National Hellenic Museum opens in December. Yeah, I know-Chicago in December, but come on-they have a 12 ft. Trojan horse you can climb in. Still not convinced you need to brave a Chicago winter to go to a museum? How about a Karaoke cave where you can sing like a Siren? Swell, shove some wax in your ears, tie yourselves to the luggage rack atop the Volvo, and head out to Halsted Street for some fun. Come on, it will be great, we can slay the Cyclops and then go drink Ouzo.

If anyone would like to make this a group trip, drop me an email and we can compare schedules and such to see if it would work.

Toy Soldiers

I am physically unable to walk past a clearance table of educational toys without making a purchase. Really. My knees buckle, my head pounds, and before I know it I'm on my way out of Hobby Lobby with Revolutionary War toy soldiers. Of course, I came home and checked out the manufacturer's website.

I hate to get all "history nerd" here, but...well, GO LOOK FOR YOURSELF.

Danny has already requested a number of Napoleonic Wars sets for his birthday, and Christmas (yes, he's still on that-sigh). I know he'll want the Crimean War set as well. The set we already purchased is exceptionally well made for plastic toys and well worth the cost. I don't think I've ever had a set of plastic toys that stood without tipping. They are sturdy, and the muskets won't snap off from normal play (I mean, unless you really try-like those "unbreakable" combs. You can break them, but it takes some effort.

I was gonna get a War of 1812 set but I read an article in the Globe and Mail suggesting Americans don't know anything about the war*, and are suffering historical amnesia. Maybe, but we know who burned down our capitol(clears throat)but I'd still like to wish our Canadian neighbors (neighbours) a Happy Thanksgiving.

* I still stand by my belief that you cannot properly teach the war of 1812 unless you are also teaching the Napoleonic Wars, and that obviously takes time away from teaching to the standardised test. (steps down off of soapbox).

Cranky Yankee

Danny has been reading Spirits of '76 by, Eric Sloane. This is not a simple read, for children or adults but well worth the effort. The reading itself isn't terribly difficult, however the ideas presented require, in fact they deserve, more than a quick skimming for major points. As an adult reading Spirits of '76 with a child, I've been pressured to examine my own thoughts regarding the spirits of respect, hard work, frugality, and others.

Spirits of '76 has been a wonderful starting point for conversations I needed to have with Danny that are uncomfortable. I'd rather explain, "where babies come from" than have to explain regarding corporations as individuals, planned obsolescence, government waste, and the limits of wealth. Danny had a difficult time understanding that 100 million dollars isn't that different than 200 million dollars save for it becoming a full time occupation caring for that money. This would be positively radical were Sloane alive, and suggesting that today. In the 70's you could still argue against obscene accumulation of wealth.

I won't lie, Spirits of '76 is written in a moralising tone. Were this book by anyone else, I'd have changed gears, and assigned a different reading. Because Spirits of '76 is by Eric Sloane, I've given the volume the benefit of the doubt, being familiar with his artwork and other books. When Sloane rails against degenerates that don't appreciate the value of hard work, he isn't screaming about his tax dollars being wasted on the dole for the impoverished. I suspect Sloane would rail just as strenuously against investment bankers, millionaire CEO's, and the like. This isn't an easy concept for a child to understand, and I dare say many adults I know would find it equally difficult to wrap their heads around. Spirits of '76 challenges the reader (rather, confronts the reader) to examine their accepted, normalised, "correct thought", by way of the 18th century ideological field.

Spirits of '76 has provided me with an opportunity to introduce Danny to other, "cranky Yankees" as we like to call them. We've started reading Thoreau's, Where I Lived, and What I Lived For, which I had not planned to include in the school curriculum, but felt obligated to do so as it fits so well with the ideas being covered by Sloane. I use "cranky" as a sincere compliment. While I could easily imagine Andy Rooney saying many of these things-in fact, I can almost hear him as I read, muttering, "Well why do you suppose that is?" in some sort of exaggerated outrage, Sloane clearly is not Andy Rooney. Spirits of '76 is not the complaining groans of an old man frustrated that he can no longer find black and red ribbon for his Underwood typewriter. Sloane might have grumbled about the disappearance of typewriter ribbon, but for the sake of the people who manufactured it, the way the words had to be carefully thought through, and typed in the absence of a backspace and delete key. Sloane would appreciate the value of a well-typed, error-free page-Rooney just wants you off of his lawn.

What Spirits of '76 is not, is a volume of flag-waving, thoughtlessly blind patriotism. Rather, Spirits of '76 is a book that affords the reader an experience so very rare of late-understanding the Colonial imagination, and considering the impact two centuries later without promoting an agenda. I dare say, if Sloane had an actual thought-out agenda, or stance it might have been against stupidity. Sloane isn't hitting you over the head until you agree with him-he's hitting you over the head until you stop mindlessly spouting ideas divorced from their meaning. Sloane expects you to think as you read, and if after careful thought you conclude you've arrived at nothing to conclude, well that took some serious consideration as well. Sloane doesn't have all the answers, nor does he require such of his readers. One could never find a publisher willing to take on a book like this today, when thanks to the entertainment "news" media everyone is expected to have an opinion on every imaginable subject lest they be perceived as ignorant, or weak.

Spirits of '76 is well written and beautifully illustrated. Good reading copies are available for around a dollar (I paid .25 cents at the library sale). Indeed, you could spend a dollar on something that would be more enjoyable in the short term such as a stick of candy, but in the spirit of frugality, what you take from Spirits of '76 may be of greater value, and long term enjoyment. I suspect Danny will return to it over the years, approaching the ideas presented with new found maturity, and lived experience. At least that is my hope.

Dig a Hole, Stupid

I thought putting in rose bushes would be this big, complicated activity but reading the side of the package it sounds pretty straightforward. You soak the plant in water for a few hours, dig an hole, and plant it.

Gosh, if I'd known it was that easy, I'd have bought more. I'm not great at complicated pruning, or separating bulbs, but digging a hole I can do-I even know which end of the shovel to dig with. I have an anthropology degree-I spent a summer session at university learning to dig holes in the ground. I had a double major, and I can tell you from experience, history majors can't dig holes. Sorry, that's one of those truths like when you attend a military parade and the sailors can't march. Army, sure. Marines, certainly. Hell, even the Air Force can march. Get to the Navy and ...aw geez, you've been to parades and know that I speak the truth. There-my anthropology degree at long last becomes useful.

I should probably go purchase more rose bushes, but I'm having more fun making sweeping generalisations that happen to be true.

There's An App For That

Book of the Dead for iPhone.

Things I Wish I Could Un-Know

I've been teaching a unit on the early North American explorers. When La Salle came up, I remembered Starved Rock State Park, and went seeking the website.

The last time I visited the park was about ten years ago-on the trip moving to Nebraska. Mr. ETB had never been there, and it wasn't terribly out of the way, so we stopped for bit, walked around, and continued on to our new home. I hadn't really thought about the place since.

Here's where I'm going to sound like a terribly cranky old woman (which I know I never do, so don't let that shock you or anything) when I tell you that a State Park is not a mall. It is not a shopping centre. At most, you come home with a t-shirt with a crappy silkscreen of the lodge on the front, or a toy totem pole made in some place you've never heard of. Maybe a pair of moccasins. If you've been an extraordinarily well behaved child, your parents will get you a toy tomahawk to chase your sister around the finished basement with. What you don't do...what seems frankly obscene is go to a state park to engage in recreational shopping. I mean, that's always kind of sad, but it is all that much worse at such a magnificent park. It isn't like there's nothing better to do. There's trails, and boats, and little waterfalls, and depending on the season, pelting unsuspecting strangers with acorns-there's tons of stuff to do at Starved Rock-can't you spend a few hours without buying something? Really, go out and read a few historical markers-they have them all over the damn place. You might learn something about those old French dudes like Marquette, Joliet, La Salle, and other guys that got a portage named after them.


Fall really is a lovely time to see the park, if you get a chance. I've been there in the dead of winter as well, but the hiking is a bit trickier.

The War of 1812

I was in my forties before I understood what the hell the War of 1812 was about. Sort of. Sure, we learned the basics in school-Old Ironsides, the burning of Washington, blockades, etc. It didn't really mean anything, but it was the space that took up a few pages in the textbook between the Louisiana Purchase, and the Civil War. Now that I'm teaching it, I can understand the appeal of simply presenting it as a sort of trade dispute on the high seas.

In truth, there isn't a really concise answer to what the War of 1812 was about. That's OK-I don't really do concise anyway. I took a deep breath, backtracked to the Napoleonic wars, and faced the fact I can't really do an adequate job with 1812 if I don't do 1804. Crap. I really thought I was done with that (not that the child is-oh no, little Danny wants to know how many sails were flying on each ship in each particular battle, how many guns were fired by how many men, and casualty counts. If there's such a thing as a "Napoleonic Wars nerd" (which sadly, I think there is, and I don't mean SCA people) he'd be pleased to wear the label).

When I was in school, it would have been unthinkable to discuss the war as a vehicle of opportunism for the U.S. to get their hands on Canada (and Florida). I don't think I ever heard about that until university. I knew of Calhoun, but nothing about him. That seems like a rather grand omission, but again-a complicated, time consuming aspect to teach.

What I'm realising (though honestly, I understood this, rather I tried to ignore it, and forge ahead) is that it is very nearly pointless to teach US history as a stand-alone subject. I don't think this tendency to teach US history in such a way is some sort of isolationism. I think it is a bit of laziness with complicated material, and a need to cover as much material as possible to score well on standardised tests. In defense of teachers-they only get so many hours a semester to cover an ungodly amount of stuff. Since I have the opportunity to spend time making certain Danny understands the material I'm presenting, without being distracted by other students, it seems right to cover the material in depth so that it does not merely become the space in the textbook between the Louisiana Purchase, and the Civil War.

I still don't think Danny believes the bit about impressment. Oh sure, he's got his brain around conscription by one's own country-but the idea that you could be seized, and forced into the opposing army is really profoundly upsetting to him. I think it really conflicts with a five year old's sense of a fair fight.

So-anyone have some material they'd like to recommend for this unit? I need to get my hands on a good biography of Madison, but I'm also interested in materials published outside the U.S. You know, to see how the war is viewed in other places, by disinterested parties.

And just because I know you're wondering...there will be no USS Constitution cake being baked. I lived in Boston too many years listening to that damn cannon being fired each and every morning to care. I did explain to Danny that the Constitution is still fully commissioned to which he replied, "Why? Are they going to send it to Afghanistan?"
"Why", indeed.

Native American Art Project-Homeschooling On A Shoestring

Our little, old poodle dog looks on in the background.



This is best done as a two day project, letting the fabric to soak in the dye overnight.

Were it later in the season, I'd have brewed some dried leaves and bark for the brown colour dye. Instead, I used a combination of tea and cinnamon. It certainly smelled nicer than leaves and bark. The reddish colour came from the skin of a plum steeped in water. Berries would be more authentic, but then if that sort of thing was bothersome to your sensibilities, you wouldn't let your kid finish it off by drawing bison on it with crayons.

We made some rag dolls to put in the tipis, and had great fun swaddling the baby doll to a board on the mama doll's back. For some reason Danny finds that really amusing.

This was presented as an art project on Native arts, not as part of the history segment on the Americas. I'm not sure I would have presented it in a dramatically different fashion, but I might have tried to place the Plains Indians into a larger context-and I would have had to cover more information than an art project demanded. I likely will revisit the project on a larger scale (maybe build one in the backyard?) as I start dealing with the Westward expansion, Jackson, and the Removal Act. I'm trying to resist that horrible tendency I have of discussing a subject by recommending another book on a similar subject that sort of relates to whatever we were discussing, but then reminded me of that book by what's-his-name, who also noted how there were similarities...and then you're essentially screwed. I've really had to learn how to narrow my scope so as not to confuse the youngster.

A Few History Books

From time to time I'll post about books I'm finding useful in teaching. This week, I have three to offer some words about.

A few years back, before I imagined I'd be teaching early American history, I picked up a lovely old copy of, The New Land by, Phillip Viereck.

Honestly, I don't know why the book sells so cheaply, as it is a lovely, illustrated, oversized book that is packed with copies of maps, and other original documents. A Spanish map of North America from the 16th century notes that what is now Nova Scotia and Labrador have "nothing of value "as they are filled with cod and pine trees. I guess if you're looking for gold, it would have been slightly disappointing.

Did you know that the Pilgrims had a bad case of cast and scour, from eating diseased mussels? I sure didn't! Mr. ETB had a bad case of that a couple weeks ago, but his was from a breakfast burrito from some take-away in Lincoln.

I can't say enough wonderful things about this book.

For the period from 1783-1830, I'm making use of The Young United States by, Edwin Tunis.

Also an over-sized, beautifully illustrated book that will hold a teacher's attention as well as a child's.

For teaching the Constitution, Are We To Be A Nation? by, Richard B. Bernstein and Kym S. Rice is helpful. Photos of early handbills, documents and the like make it as interesting for browsing as for study. I can't think of a better text for teaching the writing of the Constitution, though there are certainly better texts devoted to the content of the document.

The fact that these excellent books can be purchased for very little money makes them all the more attractive to homeschoolers on a budget (well, this homeschooler anyway).

Bastille Day Cookies

Sometimes, when I post these things I wonder when I'll get, "the letter." You know, the letter that reads:

Dear Mrs. Eat The Blog,

We put it to a vote and it was unanimous. We'd like it very much if you'd leave Nebraska now, please.

Greetings From The Most Regressive State In The U.S.

Yeah, this last week was particularly awful to live in Nebraska, and I don't just mean because of the flooding. The flooding is pretty awful though. We were spared, but gee whiz-the rain was relentless. Relentless...like the stupidity we seem to keep outdoing on an almost hourly basis. (Racist legislation, science textbooks being pulled from curriculum over mention of global warming, parents outraged that students were taught anatomy in a sex-ed biology course...it just goes on and on and on).

Anyway, during the really fierce storm last evening, I let Danny stay up late to watch television until the storm warning was canceled. The only channel to come in (thanks, DTV with your improved reception!) was PBS, and they had a documentary about William Kunstler, filmed by his daughters. Well, nothing cheers me up more than footage of Bill Kunstler pissing off the establishment, so we watched it. Danny was riveted.

Look, I'm from Chicago. No one ever needed to tell me to be wary of police and other assorted authorities with power-it was common knowledge, and shared cultural experience. Danny's had a different cultural environment to grow up in. When he saw Bobby Seal being tied to a chair in the courtroom, and gagged-he was visibly upset, and wanted to know if Chicago was part of the US. Even a five year old knows that's wrong. I let him watch Dan Berrigan being interviewed, before sending him off to bed. I could tell he was upset though-to a modern child, these things are unthinkable. People aren't bound and gagged in courtrooms for trying to exercise their rights, and we don't go into prisons and shoot to kill. Of course we did, and do, but to Danny this was new territory.

I suppose it was a good week to start talking about racism, and how he's always going to be biased just by being a white, American male. I hadn't planned to formally approach it quite so soon-but he got it. I mean, he really got it. I'm glad it was disturbing and upsetting to him-it should be. We talked about having unpopular opinions, and convictions, and how miserable people will try to make your life.

Little did I suspect watching cops bashing kids heads in Grant Park would have such an impact on Danny. I sort of feel obligated to go ahead and teach the '68 Democratic convention because it is still lingering in his attention. I should try to find a copy of Medium Cool. Having grown up there, I guess I just took it for granted that you couldn't get a fair trial if you were poor, or a minority, or had long hair. I wish there had been greater change over the last forty years, but I've yet to see anything compelling to convince me.

Anyway, it is worth watching if you get the opportunity, particularly if you happen to be living in the most regressive state in the US.

American Presidency Project

I know everyone is getting ready for the State of the Union Address tonight, and here's a helpful link to help you prepare.

There's full text of previous SOTU speeches, including the first one, by John Adams in 1789, and all sorts of other interesting things like seating plans, terminology, and more.

Seems like a pretty good way to spend some time.

There's Probably A Joke About "Evolving Tastes" Here, But I Can't Find It

Darwin's wife's recipes being published as a book.

Cheap Holiday In Other People's Misery

One of the books our three year old is fascinated with is a photographic coffee-table account of the Berlin Wall coming down. For the past few days, Danny has been asking me questions about where it was, why people were laughing, crying and so on. I did the best I could to explain it to him in a way a three year old could understand. Then, I forgot about it-until this afternoon.

There he was, my little boy building a pretty good model of the Brandenburg gate with blocks. For added realism, he propped his Fisher Price Little People atop the wall. At the bottom, he was playing with Matchbox cars.

"Can we come in? We're tired of East German haircuts and bad cigarettes. Lookout Checkpoint Charlie, we're zooming through the wall..."