School

Duncan ended his homeschooling days this year and started sixth grade at a public charter high school called Paideia Academy. It was the closest thing to a private school we could find that was also free. The only drawback is that the school is open year-round. That means poor Duncan had to start in August and will go through the middle of June. Spending the few nice days of MN summer in school does not sound too appealing. However, it was the best educational choice in our budget.

He seems to have adapted fine. Had some tough times remembering everything and taking tests/ grades seriously (since I did not keep grades in elementary school). He still hasn't found that great friend he's been looking for since he found one in Mason, his MI bud. I'm afraid Mason set a rather high standard for best friends.

The girls and I continued homeschooling, and, no, we did not start in August. We started in September, but I had a hard time focusing on it knowing our FL vacation was coming up. The FL trip was something of a huge field trip. They saw mangrove swamps, coral reefs, tidal pools, estuaries, marshes and swamps. Not to mention seeing the American tourist in its natural habitat.

Florida, Sept. 2010

Not gonna say too much about our FL vacay, since I spent a good deal of time putting it all down in a photo book. But to sum up, I will say my favorite part was the day we went on a sunset cruise on a catamaran off of Key West. The boat ride, the reggae music, the ocean, not being even remotely cold, and of course the sunset was absolutely amazing. I did notice that I truly came out of my cocoon in FL. Didn't realize how many layers I'd put on in the north. Layers of denial, determination, grit, and good old-fashioned MN survival toughness. Layers, like sweaters, that keep you warm, but make you feel stiff and suffocated. As we drove south and the weather turned hot and humid and the smell of the ocean permeated the senses, the layers melted away and what emerged was a FL girl in a tie dyed sarong and jeweled sandals. My true self. I tied the bandanna around my hair, opened the windows and let the tropical breeze blow in. I buried my face in a huge juicy mango and dug my toes into the warm sand. I tasted the salt water and marveled at how the clouds seem to touch the ocean. I felt every muscle relax and dreams squelched by the necessities of reality, came ebbing back like high tide. Such a wonderful, casual feeling of freedom.

Every once in awhile I have a moment that is so amazing, so orgasmic it's as if time stands still and gives you a chance to look carefully at each detail. When that happens, I do my best to take a mental picture with all of my senses. What am I feeling? What does it smell like?; what does it look like?; what sounds am I hearing? I took one of those mental pictures on the boat that day. Now that I'm back in MN, and I'm walking my daughter home and the north wind is biting into me, making me tug my layers closer and tighter, I pull out that picture and relive the moment. The layers don't seem so stifling when you've got reggae music blaring in your ears and moist, salty air glistening on your face.