I Tried to Learn Nothing Yesterday

"Today for Show and Tell, I've brought a tiny marvel of nature: a single snowflake. I think we might all learn a lesson from how this utterly unique and exquisite crystal turns into an ordinary, boring molecule of water, just like every other one, when you bring it in the classroom. And now, while the analogy sinks in, I'll be leaving you drips and going outside." --Calvin, from Calvin & Hobbes I nabbed this most insightful quote from a kick-*ss blog written by a kick-*ss unschooler. (Thanks Heart-Rockin' Mama!) Yesterday was Learn Nothing Day, a holiday created by Sandra and Holly Dodd to poke a little fun at those folks who ask us questions like, "But if you don't go to school, how do you learn?" We've gotten that comment, mostly from kids. The adults are a bit more discerning in their questioning, asking if we worry about college or how we learn about physics or what our days look like because they could never "stand to be home with their kids" every day. It's ok, it's normal to misunderstand something that's out of your realm of experience, but to unschoolers, who operate on the belief that learning happens all the time - ALL*THE*TIME - it does, truthfully, get a little tiresome after a while. I'd forgotten to warn my kids ahead of time that Learn Nothing Day was approaching. It's only the 2nd annual and I didn't pay much attention to it last year. This year, however, I told Jonathan about it over breakfast. His reply? "I wish I'd known this sooner, so I could've planned better." He has a whole pile of new birthday gifts so there's no WAY he won't learn anything today. But then we laughed about how we were learning something while we discussed not learning anything. And then we learned how hard it is to try to learn nothing. Doh! His school friend summed up our point nicely by chiming in, "I try not to really learn anything during summer break" with a shrug. What he means, of course, is that he doesn't do anything schooly - no reading of textbooks, no writing of reports after reading a good book, no creating a diorama to explain that cool documentary you just watched. And therein lies one of my biggest beefs with the way school operates. Schools would have us believe that learning happens only when you are being taught by someone else. They'd also have us believe that it's "work" and "a kid's job" and "very serious" and other such sobering things. And in school - it is, usually. Even the younger grades get less and less fun as the push for higher test scores and earlier reading takes over. But kids are learning all the time - ALL*THE*TIME - in AND out of school. They're learning even when they're seemingly "doing nothing" because, honestly, it's impossible to do nothing. What unschoolers have captured is the beautiful realization that learning isn't separate from living. That in the process of living, learning happens. ALL*THE*TIME. When you're preparing for a birthday party, you're learning. When you're reading, watching tv, playing a video game you're learning. You're even learning as you rest or watch clouds drift by or sun yourself on the beach. It's impossible to not learn. Humans are hard-wired to learn from their surroundings, but it helps if one is interested, motivated, and inspired. And this is where school does a really sh*t job. And before you give me over to the teachers' unions for a lashing in the public square, listen - I WAS a public school teacher and I KNOW how teachers' hands are tied (to a certain extent). What would be really beautiful is if a whole bunch of school personnel rose up and said, "we're tired of this drudgery!" and started interacting - really interacting, on a level that isn't "I say - you do" - with the kids. Then watch the students' eyes light up and let the revolution begin. I know, I know. DUDE - WHAT AM I SMOKING? But seriously, people - we've got to stop operating under the assumption that kids won't learn if they aren't forced, coerced, prodded, and locked into a damn brick building for 7 hours of every day, 180 days a year. It's ludicrous. And we also have to stop believing that the only important things one learns are what's taught within school walls. When talking with Jonathan's school friend today, we used the example of his juggling. He's an expert juggler for his age and he spends a lot of time researching technique, watching pros on youtube, finding the right equipment, practicing, and even choreographing new and unique rhythms. "Just think how much you learn about juggling all the time!" I pointed out, and we talked about how learning isn't something one only does at school. He does learn at school, and he's an excellent student, but that's one way to learn among many. He seemed happy at that notion, that he learns at school but he learns in other ways at other times and in other places as well, and it's not always stressful or boring or difficult. And as for the whole "what about college" thing (or what about physics or writing term papers or learning to meet assignment deadlines or "insert stereotypical worry here"), unschooling doesn't mean you just give everything over to the universe and say "what will be, will be!" and then dance off into the sunset. You do what anyone would do who wants to get into college (or take a physics class or write a paper or meet a deadline) - you prepare. Unschoolers don't learn little bits of this and that in separated-out morsels in preparation of possibly "someday" needing that information. They follow their interests and tackle their goals and learn what they need to learn as they go. And it works. And it works on a radically different timeline from school, too. Just because state mandates say that fourth graders learn to long-divide, it doesn't mean there's some innate need to learn to long-divide at age 9. No one needs to long-divide until they need to long-divide. Not sooner, not later. And when one needs to know something, one typically goes about learning it. Adults have a difficult time wrapping their heads around this. But usually those fears also stem from the worry that their child will be too different from other kids, or they'll appear to be neglectful parents. It's easier to follow the herd. I totally get that. That's why you'll see unschoolers hugging and jumping up and down in glee when they get together - SOMEONE LIKE ME! It ain't easy to paddle against the public school current, lemme tell ya. But what it comes down to is this: What do I care about more, my child's freedom and well-being and happiness? or the nosy lady's misinformed opinion at the local mini-mart? No contest.

Paddling upstream gets easier.

I tried to learn nothing yesterday. I gave it a really good go. I was so tired from hosting 4 parties in 6 days that I sat on my butt almost all day, sorting through digital photos (oops, I learned how to use flickr), blogging (oops, I used an online thesaurus to choose some words), reading magazines (oops, I flagged several recipes and art activity ideas), and eating (oops, I learned that grazing on leftover party food all day makes me a bit queasy *BURP*). I challenge you to learn nothing for one day. And then, the next time you wonder about us wacky weirdo unschoolers, perhaps you'll pause and think.... "You just might have something there...."

Pullin' a Calf

Oh hey! You still here? In case you hadn't noticed I've been taking a little blog siesta. I've taken several, each little disappearance growing longer each time, this one being the longest.
("MAY 6th!" my grrrlfriend said pointedly, "You haven't blogged since May 6th!" AlRIGHT already.) I can't explain it other than to say I WANT to WANT to blog, but, well, I haven't WANTED to. I'm fickle like that. And it's not like my 3 readers will care. Most of them get the live version of this side-show.

But I thought I'd wait until I had something really blog-worthy before I made my re-entry. Let's see.... Pictures of my new woods floors? Boring. Camping with a bunch of Jesus freaks? Nah. Capsizing our canoe on a float trip? Whatever. Jamming some air guitar at a family wedding? Blah. Mom's wedding? Eh.

Oh I know.... more farm stories! Also known as the WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND LEAVES THE FARM IN ROB AND LAURA'S HANDS chronicles. Um, Sis? Eventually this is gonna bite you in the *ss. You know that, right?

So the other day I'm minding my own business, working in my yard preparing for the first of five parties we were set to host, when Rob tells me he's heading to the farm to check on a laboring mama cow.



And when he asks if I'd like to join him, I thought for a moment - pull 4-foot tall thistles or witness the birth of new life? - and answered, "hellsa ya."

When we arrived at the farm, we saw Mama Cow lying on her side with the calf's hooves hanging out of her.

This must be a good sign, thought we, the rookie farmer posers, and we grabbed a soda and some popcorn, and prepared to be entertained.



We weren't the only nosy ones. These little calves were curious about us. So while we watched Mama Cow, baby cows watched us.



And these buggers were no help. They insisted on blocking our view of Mama Cow. We'd move further down the fence row; so would they. Cute, yes, but gah - MOVE YER RAWHIDE, wouldja?


They paid a bit too much attention to Mama Cow too, sniffing around her while she labored. Finally, she tired of the attention, leaped up and began head-butting the offending cow.


"I'll give birth AND kick your *ss, b*tch."

Never, ever, mess with a mama in labor.

Eventually, what with all the stress of a nosy audience and, well, FIGHTING while laboring, we noticed Mama Cow wasn't progressing. With each push, the calf's hooves would emerge, but after each contraction was over they'd recede back in. And Mama Cow would again stand up, ask if any other cows wanted a piece of her, and gaze at me as if to say, "Can't you DO something?" before lying down again with the next contraction.

That's when the seriousness of the situation began to sink in. Here we were, sipping soda and munching popcorn like we were at a feature matinee, giddily talking about how great that we were going to witness a live birth right here in the cornfields, when we started realizing we might actually have a wee, tiny problem on our hands.

Sometimes a first-time mama cow has trouble birthing. She gets too tired. Or the calf isn't positioned properly. And sometimes, the calf needs to be pulled. And by pulled I mean CHAINS TIED TO ITS LEGS AND PULLED. Holy freakin' haybales, what do we do now?

The real farmers were on vacation, and even when they're around they need help pulling a calf. Mom and her husband weren't around. And my sister had just blogged about the whole it's bad if you pull too soon and it's bad if you don't pull soon enough thing. I grabbed the bag of popcorn, dumped its contents, and began hyperventilating into it while Rob called my sister.

We got the number of Farmer Scott who lives down the road and is their #1 go-to guy in these kinds of emergencies, and THANK THE HIGHER POWER he answered his cell phone and said he'd be right over. My sister stayed on the phone with us, reminding us that we'd be just fine with Farmer Scott's help, and began giving us instructions.


Rob and Farmer Scott managed to get Mama Cow into the chute in the time it took me to run to the main farm and retrieve the pulling equipment.

I climbed into the barn to help to take pictures.


Farmer Scott adeptly secured the chains around the right spot on the calf's legs (wrong spot and you'll break its legs *shudder*) while Rob and I waited for instructions. Sometimes it takes two people to pull a calf if the Mama Cow isn't helping much. But Farmer Scott decided to give it a whirl on his own.

WARNING: The following Graphic Photos may make you puke up in your mouth a little bit.


Farmer Scott braced his legs against the door frame and pulled, while I balanced precariously over a rusty stall gate. Pulling calves is tricky! I almost fell. And there's 6 inches of slurry manure on that barn floor.


VERY quickly the calf began to emerge. Mama Cow was all over helping by pushing. Farmer Scott was all "C'mon.... C'mon...." and Mama Cow was all "I'm bringin' it! I'm briiiingin' it!" and I was all "Could you move a little to the left so I can get a better shot?"


It was only a matter of seconds before Baby Calf was born. Farmer Scott went from pulling to catching. Ever try to catch a greased-up 80lb calf? That was tricky. I would've helped but, you know, it happened so fast.


Immediately Farmer Scott began sticking straw into the calf's nostrils, causing it to gasp and begin to breathe. Hey, it's better than a slap on the *ss, isn't it?


There were a few nerve-wracking moments as we wondered if Baby Calf was ok. She just layed there.... she was breathing, but not moving much.

Farmer Scott lifted her out into the barnyard so we could release Mama Cow and let her find her babe.


Which she did. She immediately began licking the babe. And licking. And licking. Licky lick lick. Precious.


And no sooner had she gotten a good sniffing in did she begin urging her babe to stand up. "There'll be no lazy calves on MY watch. There is grass to eat, and.... well, grass to eat.... and, well... just get up. I can't stand laziness."


And she did.


She wobbled and flopped and rose and fell, and eventually she began to get the hang of those knobby little legs.



Farmer Scott left, and Rob and I high-fived that we survived our first-ever calf-pulling - and more importantly, Mama Cow and Baby Calf survived!

And I would've settled back in with my popcorn, but I had dried cow blood under my nails.

This farmin' business is rough on a grrrl's manicure.

Mmm French Fries. Or, My Interview on Unschooling

Humor writer, blogger, and homeschooling mama, Debbie H, contacted me a few months ago asking if she could interview me for her blog, Homeschooling: Freedom and Fun for your Family. Somewhere she heard I like to talk about myself. Not wanting to prove her hunch wrong, I accepted.

The interview was posted on April 17th, and I just now remembered to look for it. I might like to talk about myself, but I also have short-term memory problems. Maybe that's why I talk so much - I can't remember what I've already said.

Another blog post of Debbie's caught my eye on Facebook today, and as I clicked over I suddenly remembered the interview. Doh! There I am, sandwiched among other cool home- and unschooling folks like Barb Lundgren of Rethinking Education Conference fame (oh how I wish-wish-wish I could go). I'm honored to be among such cool folks.

When I first found my interview, I was stumped as to why a photo of french fries provided the header of the post. Ah, short term memory challenges strike again.

To find out what french fries have to do with unschooling, go see for yourself.

Thanks Debbie!

(Mmmmmm.... french fries..... *grabs kids and car keys*)

Look Ma - UNSCHOOLERS!

I love blogging. I love blogging because I love to write, I love to promote unschooling, and also because I'm an "over-sharer" (a term I heard during an NPR interview today). I like to talk, and I tend to get comfortable with people straight off and next thing you know we're having an intimate and easy conversation whether you're ready for it or not. And that's why I love unschoolers so much.

It's not just that we have a common educational philosophy, though there is that wee bit; it's because there's an openness, an optimism, and deep love of life and children that is present when in the company of unschoolers. It's an energy you can't understand until you've been in its glow. Find yourself some unschoolers and get yourself some of that good stuff; you won't be sorry.

I also love blogging because of the amazing connections and friendships I've made with people all across the country. It's completely amazing to meet other unschooling bloggers at conferences and gatherings after only knowing each other online. It's so much fun knowing people around the country, knowing we have the potential to gather no matter where we travel.

But what tops all that? Finding unschoolers in my neck of the woods.

Thanks to my blog, Jodi of Sunflower Hill Farm recognized me at the InHome Conference and introduced herself. She also invited me to visit their local homeschooling group that gathers in a town not 30 minutes from my house. And yesterday, that group gathered at Inn Serendipity, an eco-B&B owned by my friend Lisa, someone I adore but rarely see.

How fun to meet up with a great group of home- and unschoolers, meet bloggers I'd connected with online, and reconnect with old friends. It was like a coming home.

Lisa led a Renewable Energy scavenger hunt on their homestead, guiding the kids to discover the myriad ways they harness the earth's power and live gently on their plot.

Lisa's husband, John (award-winning photographer, writer, author, national speaker, ecopreneur and globetrotter), stepped in when it was time to explain kilowatts and photovoltaic energy and...
the Savonius Rotor (say what?)

and their 1974 electric car. Seriously!

They also have several kinds of solar panelsAnd even a solar cooker. Here's their wind turbine, and I didn't remember to take a picture of their straw-bale constructed greenhouse where they grow papayas, of all things!

I did manage, however, to take a picture of the tree with a mini-trampoline in it.

As always, the potluck was delicious and inspired. Homemade goodies like sweet breads and applesauce and jams, pesto pasta, macaroni-and-cheese from scratch (it wasn't neon!), bean salads and green salads. There was even a delightful Indian dessert that I must learn about. I can't even remember what it was called. I'll call it oh-my-goddess-please-may-I-have-another. And-another.

Here's Jen of Circle the World - it was so great to meet her! - with Jodi.

And a sampling of the other cool mamas (some had already left) - Paula (a farmer and expecting #6!), Darla (a doula), Lisa, me, and Jodi.

Finding unschoolers in my neck of the woods made my day.

Back in Time

I don't always feel like blogging. Today is one of those days. So was yesterday. But it occurred to me that it might be interesting to share some old posts, either 'best of' kinds of posts or posts that have special meaning.

Did you know I started blogging when my father died? I don't know what in tarnation spurred me to decide to blog about the mind-numbing pain I felt, but that's what started this whole shebang. I've come a long way, don't you think?

My first ever post - Misty Morning Musings. (What can I say? I'm fond of alliteration.)

Unschooling Story Hour

Once upon a time there was an audience, a group of people trying to listen to a man and a woman sing songs. The man and woman sang very beautiful songs and the audience members enjoyed their singing very much.

But there was also a group a children playing nearby, children of the audience members. The children weren't so interested in the man's songs. The children weren't so interested in the woman's songs. The children were tired after a long day and just wanted to play and have fun and be a little noisy, as children often want to do.

"Shhhh!" said an audience member, "We can't hear the singing!"

"Hush!" said another, "You need to be quiet!"

"Be quiet!" said another, "And sit still!"

One by one, the audience members, some of them parents of the noisy children, tried to quiet the children. They shushed them. They frowned at them. A few whispered to others nearby, "If those were MY kids, I'd punish them and make them be quiet."

"Those children should behave!" whispered another.

Nothing the audience members did quieted the children, who, rather than growing quiet, grew increasingly loud instead.

But before things got out of hand, before audience members had time to dream up too many punishments, before the man's songs and the woman's songs were drowned out entirely, something magical happened.

The singing man beckoned to the children. "Come forth," he said, "I need help with this song."

The children went forth. They didn't go quietly, and they didn't sit quietly, but they went. They clambered onto the stage and gathered at the singing man's feet and they waited to see what he wanted.

"Let's sing a song," said the singing man. And he began to sing.

And so they sang. They sang loudly, they sang quietly, but all of them sang quite enthusiastically, with arms swinging and feet tapping and mouths open as wide as mouths could open.

And the audience sat back and listened to their beautiful music.

The End


Pat Montgomery, homeschool advocate, founder of Clonlara, and one of my heroes, once said, "All you can really do for your children is model."

Today's unschooling question: Will you be the audience or will you be the singer?

I Have Purpose

Tonight my nephew, Armando, marched into our house and said to Rob, "Where's Laura? I'm hungry."

At least I know I'm needed for something around here.

Love and Marriage

17 years ago I decided to marry this bloke: 17 year later....

I'm still glad I did.

Reuniting with my Inner Activist

Busy today, dusting off the old protest signs. If you need me, all weekend I'll be here.

Story to follow, be sure of that.

You Can Kiss my Grass

Been feeling a bit sluggish, a bit off since my return from Florida. It didn't help that I returned to 40-degree, rainy weather after enjoying 80-degree sunny days down south. I also returned to find my lovely new wood floors but also a fine layer of sawdust over every square inch of my house - which translated into 14 hours of cleaning the first day back. And I always have trouble transitioning anyway.

And my right ear is plugged up. Just like last year.

But today it was delightfully warm - if a bit windy (and by windy I mean 'blow the furniture off the deck') - so I forced myself to get up and outside for a spell. Turns out I found some energy within and prepped a whole new garden. I've been visualizing a circular herb garden for some time so today, I made one.

Even though we're die-hard organic here, I admit it's a bit daunting to find weeds about to bloom - BLOOM! - in a garden in which I haven't even set foot yet this season. And with the winds we get, and the weed seeds we alone create on these here 5 acres, well - let's just say it's a constant battle to find the food among the sea of weeds.

Perhaps we should start a dandelion farm. Wait, we already have. Perhaps we should market ourselves as proprietors of organic dandelion greens. We could hang a shingle and run a "pick your own" biz. Hmm - something to consider.

Jonathan helps keep things in perspective by reminding me that dandelions are his favorite flower. No one can argue that when an entire swath of yard is in full bloom... it sure is pretty. It's the spindly, grow-an-inch-every-minute seed stalks that are less than appealing.

Good thing we don't live in the burbs.

I had my laptop on the kitchen counter today so it was handy for research as I prepped my herb garden bed. Turns out - and I've discovered this by accident - letting the grass grow long in the spring helps prevent the spread of crab grass and dandelions by shading them out. It looks a bit unruly, but then so does a yard full of weeds. As I researched the steps of permaculture and sought non-chemical solutions to some other dilemmas (don't ever - EVER - plant spearmint in your garden. EVER. Seriously. E-VER) I also found some delightful websites on all manner of sustainable living tips. I have quite the ambitious list of projects jotted on scratch paper, 95% of which will never come to fruition - but a grrrl can dream ambitious.

We used to have a sign in our lawn that read "You Can Kiss Our Grass - This lawn is chemical-free!" I loved that sign.

It got taken out by the wind.

I'm still sluggish, and my ear is still plugged - and achy, now that I think about it - but it felt oh-so-good to toil over clumps of sod again today.

And remember, if you ever come visit - you can kiss my grass.

You Know You Ain't a Southerner When...

You know you're not a southerner when....

you go to a smoke house and order a BLT.

You know your son ain't a southerner when....

he says he wants a pair of cowboy boots with "spike balls" on the back.

Something's Wrong

My face feels funny.

Scenes from another Fantastic Florida Trip

Tomorrow is our last day in Florida. *sniff* Here's a peek at our vacation so far...
Lots of pool time - Jonathan is a fish.

Chatting up my new soon-to-be step-sister.

Not sure if it's the game or the size of the game pieces that's so frustrating.

Easter egg hunt.

Look familiar?

Visiting with cousins.

And reuniting with old friends.

Stone crab for a snack.

And a meet-up with Hulk Hogan. Yo, Hulk.

Jonathan loved seeing the Blues Brothers since he did a spoof of their routine for a play last year. (Wait - is that Broc Higgins?)

Rob is now on staff at Universal Studios.

Reunited with Keti - I miss her already.

Wonderworks with Keti and kids - rainy day substitution for Universal Studios Adventure park.

The kids hit it off famously. So glad!

Beach time. Boys surf. I seek shells.

I'm not going back to the cornfields.
Even my feet are happy here.
Baywatch?
Building sand castles.
All is well. Life is very good indeed.