in the books, almost

Tomorrow is the last day of the first week of school.  At least it is for my homeschoolers, who needed the structure of lessons in the morning and the freedom (mostly) of the afternoon.  The first week of school, we're bursting with energy, and by October I've hit my first slump of many for the school year.  We require a week of break for every six weeks of school we are at work, hence the early start to make sure we get our 180 required days.  By the end of May, we're ready for summer.

I may have mentioned that everything this year is either virtual (high school, Greek school) or cancelled until further notice (our beloved CM co-op, nature study).  I hear the disappointment leaking out of my children in different ways: the weeping of my high school junior, the play of my kindergartener ("My dolly lives in land where there's no coronavirus, and she can go to co-op every day."), and the long sighs of everyone in between.  While the co-op is cancelled at least for the first term, there's a chance that the kids could go back at some point.  I'm waiting to hear from the teachers about which lessons they were planning to cover before I plunge ahead at home, so we've got four day school weeks until further notice.  I'm excited to learn from books that the boys will be using, especially this one and this other one.  

Embarrassingly, we've lived close enough to the Atlantic for the last decade and a half to make day trips to the shore and we've never been.  It's a combination of fear for the non-water-safe members of my large family; dislike of sweaty, sandy clothing; lack of insider knowledge about the best, quiet beaches; and just plain laziness.  When a friend suggested we make a day trip to her favorite beach with her family, I jumped at the chance.  We timed our arrival for just before low tide, and spent hours combing the tide pools and sand bars for life. Big M found the weeniest, teeniest hermit crab, in a shell smaller than my pinkie finger nail, as well as many larger ones, even one without a shell.  Watching the hermits peep out of the shells, waving their legs and staring up at us with their black, round eyes was definitely a highlight.  Little M found two perfect knobbed whelk shells, one of which she gave to our friend.  And of course, we came home with many other smelly seaside treasures, now soaking in a bleach bath to (ahem) de-stink.  I didn't take many photographs, but I painted several picture memories in my head, which I will have with me for always.

p.s.  Our trash service has been suspended because the whole sanitation department has been exposed to Covid.  It reminded me of this time in Greece.

p.p.s.  Z and I converted a panel of a door into a chalkboard with chalkboard paint.  I have resisted for many years because nothing can compete with a real slate chalkboard.  This paint pleasantly surprised us, though!  Currently in search of more walls to convert.