Category Archives: Uncategorized

Excruciate the brats

¨Excruciate the brats¨ is my favourite quote from Graves of Academe.  It also seems to be what the British schools are determined to do.  Some of them have taken up with this weird Brain Gym movement.  Possibly its main advantage is that it might not be fully compatible with creationism.  Since I’m a free woman at the moment, I’ve been reading this article and the accompanying comments until late into the night and laughing.  I do think there is hope for us Brits.  If only because we’re a bunch of cynical, sharp-tongued, sarcastic, arrogant gits.  Our collective soul – oh gods, I don’t mean that – we don’t really do collective or soul very well… anyway our whatever is laid bare here for all to see (particularly in the comments, where people tend to let themselves go a bit).

Actually Brain Gym is a cunning ploy that only the Americans could have come up with.  You take a common sense idea that everyone knows already, dress it up in sciencey sounding garbage (not troubling to be too accurate, it’s the general ambience that counts), then excruciate the adult’s bank balances.  As a home educator (fancy title, eh!), I find that sending my kid down the mail box achieves similar effects to those promised by Brain Gym and costs me less than nothing.

I’m on ‘holiday’

Mike and Antonia flew off to the US on Sunday, for three whole weeks.  Meanwhile, I am in Zanskar.  Not, completely for real, more sort of spiritually.  This year I am a work at home homeschooler.  That means I have a book to translate, about a journey to Zanskar, and this is the three weeks in which I have to do it!

I also plan to spring clean the house from top to bottom, devise an entire science curriculum for my daughter, who seems to be growing in to that, go to the gym once a day, and catch up on all the R&R I don’t get usually.  Yeah, right!

So far I have caught up on some sleep, locked myself out of the house in my pyjamas at dusk, attempted to wash the parasol cover which is still just as filthy as before, and started reading Feynman’s Lectures on Physics.  I am up to date on the Zanskar project though.

Making music

Mike’s latest little scheme or project is to build himself a fully-functional synthesizer on a shoe-string budget.  Today he found some freeware to tinker with and couldn’t wait to show off his new ‘noises’ as soon as we walked in the door.  Antonia sat on his lap and listened intently and thoughtfully.  Then she took his arm in hers and said, her voice oozing with diplomacy and kindness, “Daddy, … can I show you how to make some real music now?”.

She’s is growing up so fast at the moment.  Our deficiencies in various skills are starting to become apparent to her, and she just knows she can do better.  We are in Trouble!  Well, not really, of course… this old lady dog still has a few tricks up her sleeve!  As in: You think I cooked lunch/cleaned the floor/stacked the logs/…/ inadequately?  Show me how it should be done!”

I wouldn’t be without her in a million years.

perpetual-calendar.jpg

We have these perpetual calendars by the dinner table, where they basically act as conversation pieces.  This year we have 365 photos of France and a CP (grade 1) word calendar.

Today’s French calendar was particularly cool.  This is the Bastide de Montpazier in south-western France.  It’s a planned town like Milton Keynes or Columbia, but built in the 13th century.  Its already a bit surprising to find urban planning at that date, but I had come across other examples when I studied early Renaissance Tuscany. It was built at a time when this part of France belonged to England, and the idea was to reinforce the English presence near the French border.

Now the really interesting part is that as the town was carefully designed, there is a 40cm gap between the buildings.  It was put there to act as a fire break and for, erm… waste disposal.  We had a great time with this!  Our first thought was that it would be more of a fire hazard, but we were thinking modern waste: paper, plastics, and so on.  Their trash probably consisted of kitchen waste, sewerage, and maybe some broken pottery.  Very wet. A perfect little compost heap.  A bit smelly, I would imagine, but useful.  We wonder if it generated enough heat to help warm the houses.  Without actually becoming a fire hazard?!  Why have none of the eco-architects come up with a way to heat our houses with compost heaps?

Montpazier is now classed one of the most beautiful villages in France.  We have never been there – yet.

Spring Party

easter-eggs.jpg

I got a hen that lays amazing chocolates. Antonia got a bell and a Kinder egg. Little Rabbit is pretending she brought them, but really it was Mike. Antonia hid the eggs for the hunt out in the snow. A little while later our guests arrived bearing more eggs. Mysteriously, by the evening, there was hardly a crumb of chocolate left in the house.

We all embraced the late winter conditions in our own ways. I was busy cooking and hanging out. The kids were outside building igloos – all except Antonia, who preferred to snuggle down by the fire with an adult friend and draw flower pictures.

Train wrecks (cultural ones)

Mike just got back from the supermarket, where they have started a new campaign to push sushi to the more traditional French.  ¨Don’t worry, contrary to what you’ve heard, it’s not raw fish¨.  What the heck is it then?  Cooked tuna, apparently, wrapped up with some rice, and, wait for it, … mayonnaise!  Mike told them what he thought of it.  Bleeech!

But lest the Americans should get smug, Antonia subjected us to the film Polar Express this evening.  What is going on there?  I shouldn’t be surprised that Hollywood took a short and harmless picture book and turned it into a long movie, with no significant plot additions.  What does disturb me is that they seem to have drawn a lot of inspiration from Big Brother, and they’re still pushing it as a family movie.  If I tended to have nightmares, there’s plenty of material here.  The kids who give the impression of being drug-pushing, cyncial, gangster tweens; the adults, who are really not the kind of types you would want your kids hanging around with; and especially the whole cult-like indoctrination experience: terrifying journey under harsh conditions, setting up a sense of elitism, scenes of mass hysteria when they do get to the North Pole, conversion to true belief in Santa…!  That one pushed my cultural buttons all right: scenes of Hitler raising his arm above the mindless, screaming crowd.  What is this movie trying to say?  Or do?  And if it’s not trying to say anything, what can I say about a culture that produces stuff like this ‘innocently’?

We are pretty easy going parents, but we are unusually of one mind here.  This movie is awful.  I’m going to bring it out again when my daughter’s a bit older to show her what she should run from.  Until then, I’m hiding it.

Spring Party

We’re having our annual Spring party tomorrow, and I’ve had to make a few changes to the initial plan.

snowy-buds.jpg

I decided that we can put the Easter Eggs in white plastic cups and hide them outside, that way they won’t get soaked or buried in the snow while the kids look for them.  With any luck they’ll stay outside and make snowmen, as the house is a bit small for so many people, and I had sort of hoped (ha, ha!) that we would be eating outside! I’ve had to make a few changes to the menu as well.  We were going to be having wild primrose and dandelion leaf salad.  Hmmm, I don’t think so:

snowy-primroses.jpg

These were the only primroses in sight, and they’re looking a bit folorn. Instead we are having:

  • Asparagus leaves with dipping sauce
  • Tapenade on toasts
  • Roquette salad with walnuts and orange or quail’s eggs depending what Mike comes up with
  • Salt-roasted chicken with cranberry sauce
  • New potatoes, asparagus and candied carrots
  • Specially amazing spring matzah brye with strawberries and whipped cream
  • Chocolate cake

Our spring party is our own family’s combination Easter/Passover/Just Plain Spring celebration.  And because it’s all ours, we get to invite whoever we like and do it all our own way (weather permitting).  By coincidence, we’re having it on Easter Sunday this year.  Passover is really ages away, but it feels near to us as Mike and Antonia are counting down time till they head off to the US, for a real Seder amongst other things.

As they get older…

… that territorial stuff starts to kick in!

territoriality.jpg

Age 4: a pretty nameplate produced at preschool, and put up there by Mum.

Age 5: a polite notice that says ¨Private room, do not come in, Antonia¨, posted on own initiative.

Age 6: ¨Keep Out Worm¨, courtesy of the Horrid Henry annual, very much on own initiative!

Antonia has always been a very fair child. This is my little present this morning:

territoriality-2.jpg

¨Keep out vacsinase (vaccination) prick¨ ! Three out of four words spelled correctly, I note. We are getting somewhere. Hmmm,… and just who am I supposed to be keeping out of my room?? Anyway, all this territorial stuff is just going through the motions at the moment. Little Miss is aware that personal space exists, but it isn’t really part of her psyche yet. We’ll see later on.

Nature study: roe deer and hunting

chevreuil.jpg

Here is one of our regular visitors, the roe deer. This one is looking very intently at his two companions in the trees. We have had a stable population of three or four roe deer who include our land in their territory for over a decade. I decided to do a bit of nature study on my own and find out more about them. Until this morning I didn’t know their name in English.

The things that interested me most are the interactions between humans and the roe deer. Like many ubiquitous animals in populated areas, it has proved good at adapting to a humanised environment. Although it prefers to eat leaves, it will graze on young crops for example. In the absence of predators other than humans, its population is rather dense. The worst thing about this is that it encourages the spread of lyme disease, and other parasites and diseases that may affect the deer primarily. It seems that the deer can also limit the rejuvenation of forests. I must say that they don’t seem to be doing such a good job of that on our land. It’s also shocking to learn that in the absence of predators, roadkill is one of the most common causes of death. Striking an animal of this size is obviously also dangerous to the humans in the car.

Nature study has many facets, and this morning made me remember the social and political aspects as well. As societies and individuals, we all have to make decisions related to nature. In France, the possible reintroduction or natural return of large predators is one vector of social debate. In practical terms, right now, the main predators are human hunters, and the roe deer is one of the more common prey.

I knew very little about hunting around here, and decided it was time to find out more. It turns out the situation is rather complicated. Hunting varies a lot legally and culturally within Europe, and presumably even more elsewhere. Before the French revolution, hunting was largely a privilege of the aristocracy. At the revolution, the right to hunt was granted to everybody. It became one of those liberties that many people are emotionally attached to, rather like the right to carry guns in the US. Of course, there is no such thing as unattributed land in France, and the universal right to hunt essentially meant that anyone could hunt on anyone else’s property at any time.

In modern times there have been some changes. As a society ‘we’ use hunting to regulate the numbers of some species, and ban or severely limit hunting of other species. Quotas apply to most species, and there may be selection procedures in place. Although anyone can hunt, in most places it’s obligatory to join a local association. And, after several massive fights in the European courts, French landowners can now declare their own property as a no-hunt zone. Information like the opening and closing of the hunting season, and the various quotas should be easily accessible to the public, and actually, I found it on the internet without too much trouble – not so common in France!

In practical reality, this is the face of hunting we see as spectators: autumn around here sees the country roads lined with men hanging around on their 4-wheel drive jeeps and toting rifles, clearly enjoying the macho, male-bonding experience. Meanwhile, their dogs are busy getting lost all over the mountains, sometimes showing up on people’s doorsteps weeks later. And a few of the more timorous residents complain that they hardly dare take a walk during the season. I must admit I’ve never heard of a real accident. But it’s hard to believe, looking at this lot, that they actually have a clue what they’re doing. And some part of me would really, really like to see a few women try to join their little hunting club. It’s just so darned obvious that that would spoil their fun.

For me and for my daughter in the future, there are lots of decisions to make, choices that are emerging in our society from a combination of individual and group action. Other societies are dealing with different situations and consequences even around a similar topic like hunting. Nature study is also valuable for hopefully allowing our decisions to be made based on real knowledge, rather than on knee-jerk reactions.

Second day of Spring

second-day-of-spring.jpg

It’s technically spring, but I won’t be removing that little line from my banner just yet.  Here’s the situation round here at nearly lunchtime.  The chaffinches has been around to complain that their bird seed has been snowed over.  I went out to give them some more and startled a whole bunch of feathered squatters who were hiding in the ivy.

Antonia is gainfully occupied drawing an epic narrative in pictures in her nature study book.  It involves the adventures of a catwoman whose long, white hair makes her look a bit like me.  I am following my golden rule of leaving her alone when she is busy.  My own brain is feeling rather mushy at the moment, and I’m not really settling on anything – least of all on doing my chores.