Veronica Boulden

Our Classical Conversations group is having a Field Day soon.  I'm running the organized games.  We're planning the three-legged race, potato sack race, tug of war, and the parachute games.  One of the parachute games is called "scramble the eggs."  Everyone holds and shakes the parachute, causing ripples, then I add the eggs to the middle and if we shake hard enough, the eggs really fly!  The colors are awesome!  Every Easter, I just save the Easter eggs the girls bring home from egg hunts and/or gift baskets or church to replenish the stock.  But to get the eggs to fly really well, they have to be put together. This makes them "lighter." Otherwise, the separate pieces tend to stick together and get "heavier."  So it was a labor of love, but we matched all the egg tops and bottoms.  We also did away with broken pieces and the parts that didn't have mates. 

 It started last spring-summer.  This robin would flutter up to our front window, hitting its beak on the glass, knock-knock-knocking every morning.  At first, I'm sure the robin thought he was attacking another bird in its reflection.  But eventually, since we'd always come running to see the robin and say, "Hello!," we trained the bird to expect us, even want us.  He'd knock until we'd come to the window, then he'd fly a little ways away into the yard, and forage until we came to another window looking for him.  This routine was repeated fifty or more times last year.  Just a few days ago, I heard the same knock-knock-knock on that same window.  The robin was back!  Now, daily he comes to say, "Hello!"  I asked Avril the other day, "Which book was your favorite this year of Challenge A?"  She said without hesitation, "The Secret Garden." That makes our robin friend even more special.   It's like we're in the storyboo

I saved her big sister’s Lost Tools of Writing ANI charts and essays from when Norah, now Challenge 4, was in Challenge A. All year, Avril, in Challenge A and doing her first year of Lost Tools, has been quietly taking them down and reading them as she works through her own issues and essays in all the same books. It’s almost like she’s been time traveling back to talk to Norah when was twelve-thirteen. Sometimes she laughs at her big sister’s thinking and writing. But I warn her that Adele will be reading her ANIs and essays someday, too. This has been a fun, unexpected, sweet, special part of this school year.

Today my Challenge 4 class drew a mural on the church chalkboard-wall during their lunch break. I snapped a pic before we headed back to class for the rest of the day. There are so, so many events coming these final weeks of Challenge 4.  There's Protocol, Blue Book, Thesis Presentation and Defense, and finally, Graduation! There's lots of planning and preparation going on. We all feel a bit anxious about all that's coming, but we're also excited.   The Lord bless and protect us through the coming weeks!

A few days after all the Memory Master testing was complete, it was Sunday morning, and the Pastor mentioned the countries in the Bible passage we were reading in church.  He said something like, "If you are familiar with the Mediterranean..."  Adele's eyes lit up and twinkled as she looked and me and we shared a moment of recognition.  She had grown  very  familiar with the Mediterranean from reviewing geography facts for Memory Masters testing.  On Wednesday, she ran into the kitchen, breathless.  She's reading Anne of Green Gables right now.  "Mom! This book is set in Nova Scotia! Nova Scotia! I know where that is!" she panted.  She laughed in delight, and I laughed, too.  She put hundreds of facts to memory and those facts keep coming to life for her.  But there are leading homeschool voices who continually condemn the rote memorization of hundreds of facts, and they do so earnestly. But I earnestly have to disagree with them and speak as I actually find

Adele passed her tutor and director proofs! She's an official Memory Master for Cycle 1!  You can see the cards her friends made and her director gave her on the morning of the final tests.  I'm very thankful for the people who helped us make this possible, especially our children's pastor Greg, who gave Adele her second proof.   

We went to church early. Our gracious neighbors always include us in their family's annual Easter egg hunt, and we stayed for a dinner with them of homemade authentic Italian foods including lasagna and eggplant rollatini. I brought over my parachute and lead the grandkids in some games.  The girls came home with an abundance of candy- and even cash! (We have the best neighbors.) We are very humbled and thankful that they would include us in their family celebrations.  

We always pick a Saturday and work together to clean out the flower beds and put down new mulch in spring. Doing this with kids was rough at first, but we've gotten better each year. This year, the kids actually worked cheerfully and without complaint. The forget-me-nots we planted when we buried out pet button quail, Marilyn, have multiplied and now, they are literally covering the front yard. The grape hyacinths are blooming, along with the first dandelions, so Adele made the first bouquet of the season. The tiny oreganos that line our flower beds are also coming back to life now, so as we racked the beds, their fragrances filled the warm air around us. It's still too early to plant any annuals besides pansies, so we usually wait until Mother's Day at least, if not all the way till Memorial Day, to choose flowers for the pots on the decks. 

Dwayne and I celebrated our 21st Anniversary last week. Now we’ve been married as long as we were alive before we we’re married. The last few years are not Instagram worthy. God knows the unfiltered truth; and we are no longer under any delusions about ourselves, which is a grace in itself. Turns out we are just average, maybe even wicked. We’re no exceptions; we need God’s grace, maybe even desperately. But marriage is a good, it is a constant, unrelenting grace, maybe especially when it isn’t easy. In the words of Andrew Peterson, “When I lose my way, find me. When I loose loves chains, bind me. At the end of all my faith, till the end of all my days, when I forget my name, remind me.”

One of our beloved friends and children's pastors, Pastor Flower, agreed to give Adele her second adult proof for Memory Masters. So my husband took Adele and they all met up for breakfast at Mothership, a bakery and cafe also owned by another dear friend from church. They had breakfast and then Pastor Flower sat aside with Adele and gave her her second Memory Masters proof/ test. This is the one after the parent proof, but before the tutor and director proofs. Adele passed! Dwayne bought home handmade treats from Mothership, and we cut them into bite sized portions and shared them in celebration. 

Avril: Mom, how many composition notebooks do you think I can buy with my birthday money? Me: How much do you have? Avril: Thirty dollars Me: They're available at the Dollar Store, so you could certainly get more than twenty.  Avril: Will you take all my birthday money and buy me composition notebooks? I'd like the write stories in them.  Me: Sure!  

We took another walk around Putnam Park the other day.  This time, we took our sketchpads and found a picnic table to sit and sketch. It's not easy! 

In December, I started hand-sewing binding on a lap quilt I had made some years before.  To store my thread, needle, pins, etc., I took up one of the decorative Christmas tins we had out with all the other Christmas decor.  I never liked this tin much, honestly.  It was given by a friend, held a gift from that dear friend, so in a way, the tin was also a gift from that dear friend.  I'm desperately sentimental, so I have a difficult time ridding myself of anything given to me in love.  So I kept the tin out of obligation even though I had an almost visceral response to it's ugliness, at least at first.  But this last Christmas, I found this tin was just the right size for my hand-sewing supplies.  After Christmas, I just left my sewing supplies in there beside my chair for convenience sake.  Months went by. The quilt is still "in-process," so the sewing supplies remain there.  The other day, one daughter shouts from the kitchen where we both are to another daughter in

My yard has yards and yards of mosses.  I'm always commenting on this, I know. But that's because I'm always looking at it and glorying over it.  Large swaths of green mosses grow out over the rocky hillside our home is built on.  Each morning looks like a bunch of green cloths, quilts, and comforters were just left pilled up on the ground around the rocks after some wood nymphs and driads fell into a stupor after dancing or something.  Also, the tiniest and most delicate clumps of contrasting greens and textures grow in, on, and over all the rocks coming right up to our front door.  I get to live in a fairy garden, basically.  I don't even have to leave my house to study it's details throughout the day; I just have to walk up to any front window and look while I sip coffee.  It's a gift from The Almighty, truly, a garden tended for me by the natural processes at work all around my house.  Moss may be my greatest consolation for having to live in New England, so

Adele and I took another nature walk, reciting her Foundations Memory Work as we stepped. Adele is still practicing so she can try to pass the second proof (test) for Memory Masters, which is coming up. It's actually lovely to have something to sing and talk and even laugh about as we walk.  We saw how the same things along the path have changed since last time we passed. And it's lovely to get distracted at least a hundred times by beautiful things along the way. Her eyes are so much better than mine!  She found an owlet pellet and we took little sticks and pulled it apart right there on the path. Then she found an empty acorn top to use as a bowl for carrying the bones home.  This bowl of bones is downstairs now with all the other items in our nature collection. We've got a few shelves in the basement for these "treasures." We've got rocks, shells, birds nests, feathers, etc. And we get more everyday. Sometimes I wonder how much outside can come inside befor

We sent out graduation announcements today! For practice driving, I made Norah drive to the post office for the stamps and mailing. I didn't scream or cringe once while she drove us. So either she's getting better at driving, or I am getting better at dealing with her driving. Maybe it's both. On the way home, we went through Dunkin's drive-through for coffee, of course. One must to learn to navigate through a Dunkin drive through for life. And we also went to the new Christian book store in town, where I got her a cross pin for her book bag. Note: Maybe it's not actually a new book store, but we'd only just heard about it. I'm enjoying these moments with my sweetheart before she takes off to college with that old book bag and all its pins in the fall. 

The oldest had a tear in her favorite flannel, so she created a beautiful patch with cross stitch fabric and embroidery thread. She's self-taught, basically, using cross-stitch and needlework books and You Tube videos and years of practice on other projects and trial and error. Now it's an even more beloved flannel! 

My middle daughter has read aloud to her little sister for years. They share a room with bunk beds, so the middle reads to the youngest from the top bunk every morning and night. If it's a leisurely day, they will keep on reading on the couch through the day. But today I came in the room to find the youngest reading to the middle! They rediscovered the little book The Gods Must Be Angry , an old Sonlight core book from many, many, many years ago, as they organized their shelves today, so the youngest decided to read it during her daily quiet reading time. But as it started getting good, the youngest narrated a bit of it to her sister, then the middle one asked her to just read it aloud while she did her geography drawings for Challenge A. These moments just happen naturally living and learning together. 

I'm still processing all the beeswax left over from our beehive. (Sadly, our bees died this last winter.) I'd call processing wax a labor of love, but the only thing I am experiencing right now is the labor.  I have decided to forgo beekeeping this summer. I'm a little heartsick and discouraged that our bees died.  Even so, it will be a real loss not to try again right away, because we get so much joy and wonder upon opening the hive and admiring the bees and their labors.  But this summer's calendar is already filled up with travel, even more than last summer.  And I know from my difficulties with traveling and managing hive checks last summer that it will be even harder to do it all this summer.   We are planning more camping trips, the regular trips to Dwayne's parents and my Mom's, and we need more travel time, especially, to move and settle a beloved daughter in another state. She starts college in the fall.  So putting beekeeping on hold is probably the wi

One girl has a birthday in late March; the other has a birthday in early April, so they combined their Lego allowances this year and went in on a much larger Lego set than either would have been allowed on her own.  Their dad and I were proud of their creative deal-making.  They explained at dinner last night that they have built approximately one-half of the set since Avril's birthday. Now they will build the second half after Adele's birthday.  I love their sweet thoughtfulnesses of one another, making deliberate efforts to keep the situation equitable.  And praise God, they seem to already comprehend the reality that sharing joys makes joy more full for all. 

I met the orchardman's daughter. A young woman in her twenties; Her father had been steward forty years! So, naturally, she'd been there  All her life. We spoke at length. She said more than she knew,  And knew so much more than she could say. The Holy Spirit urged me to ask her then,  Hinted that He'd sent her for the purpose, So I merely mentioned the apple blossoms  Then she took on most reverent tones,  Severe, even. She warned:  No one can enter the orchard then!  If the blooms are disturbed,  Even by a strong enough breeze,  All fruit is lost, even hope of fruit.  We guard the orchard night and day. I knew she'd say this,  And in just that way,  So I sent a quiet kiss Heavenward.  For I am an Orchardman's daughter, too.  This home is His high-walled garden,   These daughters are His trees.  I merely steward the place. There will be glory and beauty for Him,  And fruit enough for the masses. See! Already they bloom!   Only wait, He tells me, And for now, guard

It's her tenth birthday, but Adele made us the cards. Her big sisters helped with spelling. After a quick breakfast, Dwayne and I started the day with grocery shopping. We needed the spaghetti noodles for Adele's birthday dinner, among other things.  When we got home from grocery shopping, we honked from inside the garage, something we always do, and the girls always come running down to help unload. They like to see what we've bought.  Norah and her dad went back out a little later. She has to practice driving in preparation for taking her driving test.  So they took the truck and got several bags of mulch. It's that time of year.  After cleaning while also doing laundry while also listening to some of The Literary Life's Annual Conference , Adele and I went out for a walk. We took her Foundations Memory Work (on little flashcards and one trivium table.) We walked 2.5 miles down our street and around our nearby Putnam Park, drilling her memory work to the rhythm of