Recently H and I were chatting and I somehow recalled one of the first library books I got out for him after I started home educating.
One was a beautiful book of 100 tallest skyscrapers. The photos were lovely, far more lovely than I had expected and their names were far more varied too. I sat there reading out name after name, city after city, going round the world with it. H had enough after a few, naturally!
Another was all about British wild animals and fish. There were so many whales, I had no idea. That book came with me while I waited in the station car park for T, coming home from his school each day. Again, H didn't need too much of that book either :)
Quite often I thank H for this opportunity to be at home and to be able to read and read. I never expected to have this time with him and on my own when he is busy with other things. I explain that I don't know how long it will last because when he decides he wants to head off to classes here, there and everywhere, or some special sport, then my life will change again.
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Candles
T is doing fire experiments and taking photos at the table. The fact that I can supervise while looking in the other direction and while blogging shows how different 14 is from say 10. I am in the room though! There is a bowl of water as a safety device, but T set it up before I had time to go through my standard fire warnings.
It reminds me of one of the first projects H and did after deregistering nearly 2 years ago, a life time away. We took the old scraggy candles I had in the back of a cupboard and wanted to throw away. Instead we burnt them down to wax ponds in my old serving dishes. We sat doing this outside in the cold garden, huddled up to the metal garden table.
We sat and watched the wax run down and we poked the soft walls of the candles. We destroyed all of them, one by one! We took all the time in the world and just played at messing around with candles. Happy memories.
Really of course I was discovering what processing unexpressed anguish feels like and how long it takes, but the mechanics were grey afternoons outdoors with those hideous candles from the back of my laundry room.
It reminds me of one of the first projects H and did after deregistering nearly 2 years ago, a life time away. We took the old scraggy candles I had in the back of a cupboard and wanted to throw away. Instead we burnt them down to wax ponds in my old serving dishes. We sat doing this outside in the cold garden, huddled up to the metal garden table.
We sat and watched the wax run down and we poked the soft walls of the candles. We destroyed all of them, one by one! We took all the time in the world and just played at messing around with candles. Happy memories.
Really of course I was discovering what processing unexpressed anguish feels like and how long it takes, but the mechanics were grey afternoons outdoors with those hideous candles from the back of my laundry room.
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