Summer... the season for real learning!

When I recall my summers as I was growing up, I remember how wonderfully free I felt to be out of that building. No homework until fall! I was going to enjoy every minute of this amazing season! And I did. I never realized until long after we began homeschooling, that those summers provided more true learning than any lesson I ever completed in school.

I spent hours playing with the children next door. We cracked rocks to see what was inside them, smelling them, gazing at the sparkly interiors, using the most beautiful ones to make “jewelry.” We gathered green apples, and timothy grass, and the tender middle part of the water reeds, and we made salads or soup. Soup and salad looked the same, but to us, they were vastly different.

Roy, the dad of the children next door, was a teacher at the local high school, and a back-to-nature sort of fellow. He knew about all of the plants and insects and was happy to have us join him on his walks. He could spot the tiniest things in the weeds and pull them out to show us, much to our amazement. He found things like cocoons, and bird eggs. Praying mantis would perch on Roy's shoulder, and he would walk on, as though he didn't even know it was there. But he did know. He just thought it was normal for that sort of thing to happen.

Roy, also, had cages attached to the outside walls of his garage, and several other places around their patio.  In the cages, there were twigs with cocoons (moths) and chrysalis (butterflies).  I loved to check the cages to see if a moth or a butterfly was getting ready to emerge.  One cage I checked only contained a stick.  No cocoon.  No chrysalis.  I asked Roy why there was just a stick in that cage.  Roy said,”Are you sure it’s just a stick?  Look again.”  I looked.  I didn’t see anything on the stick.  I looked again.  The stick moved!  What in the world?  Then I saw antennae and legs!  I had no idea what it was.  Roy explained that it was an insect called a “walking stick.”  That’s exactly what it looked like... a stick that could walk.  I was amazed.

Often, Roy, walked down the hill to the pond, that his family and our family shared. He would point out tadpoles, bullfrogs, turtles, damselflies, dragonflies, and so many other amazing creatures. Sometimes we would sit by the pond and watch the fish.  In the field by the pond, we saw a groundhog occasionally, or sometimes a muskrat.  I didn’t like snakes very much, but there were nearly always snakes near the pond.

When the vegetables began to grow in the garden, Roy would amaze me by pulling carrots from the ground, wiping them lightly on his overalls, then chomping them as if they tasted delicious with dirt on them. In fact, he said they were very sweet! I could hardly believe it, but Roy wasn't the sort of person to lie.  

My parents were both teachers, and at that time, teachers didn't have to work during the summer. My dad was, also, a principal, so he did have to go to the school occasionally in the summer months, but not too often. Summer was the perfect time for us to go on vacations. We seldom took a vacation that was longer than 2 or 3 days, but they were wonderful. We traveled all over Ohio, and through many parts of Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Indiana and Kentucky.

My mom and dad and I visited so many fascinating places in Ohio, like the Blue Hole in Castalia. I loved going there, because at that time, no one had been able to find the bottom of that pool of water. Mysterious! The Ohio Caverns in West Liberty were pretty scary, especially when they turned out the lights while we were in them. Aaah! Serpent Mound was amazing, and a little creepy, at the same time. So many strange things right here in Ohio!

My favorite trip each summer was our visit to the Ohio State Fair.  I loved any fair, but I loved the state fair most of all.  We would wake up at 3:30 in the morning, and pack a breakfast to eat on the way to the fair.  We didn’t live near any major highways, so it was a long drive to Columbus.  Just driving into the big city was an eye-opening adventure!  I would help my dad look for 17th Ave.  That was the street where the entrance to the fairgrounds was located.  We usually arrived at the fairgrounds by 6:00 am.  That’s when they opened.  My dad was on the Holmes County Fair Board, so he always got free admission to the fair.  I thought that was really cool!

Once we were inside, it just got more exciting.  Our first stop was usually at one of the Bob Evans sausage tents.  They were busy grilling sausage, and the smell was so wonderful.  You had to tell them if you wanted a smokey boy (sausage link) or a farm boy (sausage patty).  I loved both of them, but I knew we would stop at another Bob Evans stand during the day, so I started with a farm boy sandwich.  Bob Evans sausage today does not compare with the sausage sandwiches I enjoyed at the state fair.  Not even close.  

After we left the fair, we walked through building after building of exhibits.  I loved the commercial buildings with the Vitamix and vegetable chopper demonstrations and free samples, the massage chairs, and the spin-art!  I loved the spin-art.  My mom always made me wait until the end of the day, when we were heading toward the exit, before she would allow me to squirt paint on the spinning white card in the bottom of what looked like a flower pot.  I loved squirting the different colors on the card and seeing the pretty patterns they made.  

We always ate lunch in the dairy building.  First we would look at the cheese display to see which cheesemaker had won the blue ribbon as the best Swiss cheesemaker in Ohio.  We knew most of the cheesemakers so it was always exciting to see if one of our favorites won.  Then we would look at the cow sculpture carved out of butter, and whatever other butter sculptures they had on display.  After that, we would get our lunch of a Swiss cheese sandwich on wheat bread with mustard, and a creamy, delicious milkshake.  We usually ate lunch near the cow milking barn.  I liked watching the milk flowing through the glass pipes above our heads.  

After lunch, we would go visit the gigantic talking cardinal. He must have been 25 feet high, and if you asked him a question, he would answer you. If no one was talking to him, he would shout at people, and ask them questions. Sometimes he sang "happy birthday" to visitors who were having a birthday.  I was usually too shy to ask the cardinal any questions, but I loved to hear what he would say to other people.  

Next we would head to the Department of Natural Resources display. They had live wild animals in large enclosures. That was the first place I ever saw a coyote, a pheasant and a bobcat! How exciting!  A 12 foot tall Smokey the Bear stood by the entrance.  He talked, too.  I wasn’t shy with Smokey. He had a great “bear” voice. He sounded just like he did in those forest fire commercials. I was so surprised the first time he called me by name. I couldn't figure out how he knew who I was. I learned a few years later that one of the rangers from the Dept. of Natural Resources had asked my mom and dad what my name was, when I was looking at the animals, and then gave the information to a man who was in a room just behind Smokey. It was a little disappointing to discover it wasn't really Smokey who was talking to me.  I will admit that when I took my daughters to the state fair when they were young, I couldn't resist talking to Smokey one more time.

The afternoon was usually spent in the grandstand, so we could rest.  We watched the horse races and cheered for our favorites in each race.  Sometimes there were well-known singers performing in the grandstand, and that was fun, too.

After we were rested, it was time to go on some rides.  I usually had to ride by myself, because my parents didn’t ride, but they liked to watch me ride.  Sometimes I would find another girl or boy who was riding alone, and we would ride a few rides together.  

After the rides, we would go to the roast corn tent.  They had so many grills filled with roasting ears!  They dipped the ears of corn in big jars of melted butter and wrapped about 5 napkins around the husk that had been pulled down to make a handle.  Oh my, that corn was heavenly.  After an ear of roasted corn, we would walk across the midway to the Bob Evans tent for another sausage sandwich, "smokey boy" this time, and we would follow that with some ice cold watermelon.  There were large metal troughs filled with water and huge blocks of ice.  Each trough had about 10 watermelons floating in it.  They would pull a big watermelon out of the trough, and quickly slice it into about 8 giant slices.  People bought the slices as fast as the workers could prepare them.  Everywhere you looked, people were holding the slices up to their faces, eating big mouthfuls of watermelon and spitting the seeds on the ground.  Paradise!

After that, it was usually close to 10:00 pm, and we had to start toward home.  We stopped so I could make my spin-art picture and then we headed to the car. Oh, how I loved those days at the fair.

Summer afternoons meant homemade lemonade under the willow tree in our backyard. Or ice tea, while we sat by the peony bushes with their hundreds of blooms. Sometimes, we made homemade ice cream, and ate it while we sat on our front porch, and watched the birds and clouds, rainstorms and hail, Amish buggies and the high stepping horses!

In the evening, the lightning bugs would come out, and I would race around catching them, and letting them go again. Amazing little critters!  

At night, I would lay on my back in the yard, and gaze up at the billions of stars. I especially loved looking at the thick band of the Milky Way. Incredible! That was in the days before there was so much light pollution.

One night, I was walking through our dark yard, looking at the dazzling display of stars, when something HUGE sailed by me. I nearly screamed, but realized at the last second, it was an owl, probably a great horned owl, although I couldn't see it clearly enough to know for sure. It was absolutely silent as it flew. I didn't hear a sound.

I have so many wonderful memories of those summers gone by. Homemade ice cream, ice cold watermelon, rolling through the tall grass in our field, jumping when a grasshopper flew out of the weeds and startled me. And I learned from all of those experiences that created the terrific memories.

History, math, art, geology, astronomy, biology, reading, writing, geography and so many other subjects I can't count them. And... those summer lessons are the ones that have stayed with me all these years. They are the lessons that I remember best, and with great joy!

Many of the lessons from textbooks vanished almost as soon as I learned them. Test scores are forgotten and of little importance. Summer was real learning. Learning that had value and meaning. And it was fun!

Go have some fun with your family this summer! It doesn't have to be expensive or exotic or scholarly. Explore the world around you. See what you've been missing on those days you've been hurrying from co-op to the bank, to the store, to the library. Slow down and let the wonder of the world soak in.   

Go to fairs and festivals, art walks, the park, your backyard, fields and the lake.  Listen  for red-wing blackbirds.  Watch for butterflies and cabbage moths.  Smell the honeysuckle.  Make some memories.

Ready to savor summer,

Ruth

- - - - -

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time." ~John Lubbock

“Come with me,' Mom says.

To the library.

Books and summertime go together.”

― Lisa Schroeder, I Heart You, You Haunt Me

All the world is a laboratory to the inquiring mind.  ~Martin H. Fischer

“Reading about nature is fine, but if a person walks in the woods and listens carefully, he can learn more than what is in books.”  ― George Washington Carver, George Washington Carver in His Own Words

My Mother's Cookbooks

My mother loved to cook.  She really didn’t need a cookbook, as she had many dishes that she had learned to prepare when she was young, and she was never afraid to experiment and create new dishes.  Even though she didn’t need cookbooks, she enjoyed collecting them, and she loved finding new recipes to try.

My mother, also, loved to journal.  Her journals were usually stenographers notebooks, but she

tended to use her favorite cookbooks like journals, as well.  

I was fortunate to inherit a few of her favorite cookbooks.  They had been used frequently, and were in rather a dilapidated condition when I received them, but even with pages falling out, they are my favorite mementos from my mom.

One of her most used cookbooks was the Three B Garden Club Cook Book.  My mom was a member of the Three B Garden Club, and she helped collect the recipes that fill the pages of this book.  I went with her to visit many neighbors and friends, as she asked them to share a few of their favorite family recipes.   

I’ve been trying to remember what the three Bs stood for, but I can only remember 2 of them:  Berlin and Benton, two nearby towns.  As I typed the last sentence, I happened to remember a third town, Bunker Hill, which happens to be the “town” where I grew up.  It wasn’t exactly a town, more like a sprawling neighborhood, that extended about ½ a mile in every direction from the top of the big hill.  I’m fairly certain that was the third B.  You would think that would have been the first “B” town I remembered.

The cookbook is now missing its back cover, and the cover art on the front is looking faded and scratched.  That doesn’t matter to me.  What I really love about this book are the many notes that fill its pages, written in my mom’s familiar handwriting.

Next to the Banana Nut Bread recipe, is a little note that says, “Good! made 9/26/76.”  By the Raisin Cookie recipe, are two notes.  One says, “Very good. Took to Gary’s in Vermont, 9/21/86″ and in the opposite margin, “Took to Ruth’s place in Pittsburgh, 11/1/86.”  I remember eating those cookies at my new apartment in Pittsburgh.

Not all the notes in this book are about the recipes.  Her cookbook was always handy, and she used it to jot down so many things that she wanted to remember.  Here are a few examples:

“‘When you can’t remove an obstacle, plow around it.’ – A. Lincoln”

“Soak gladiolus corms in 3 gal. water and 4 tbsp. Lysol a few hours before planting.”

“Elaine Heath has this motto on her wall, ‘Life is a song. Let’s sing it!’”

“Bonds of matrimony are a good investment, only if the interest is kept up.”

“Another blender goodie from the Mike Douglas Show today:

1 egg

1/2 cup milk

1/2 c ice cream

honey to taste

1 fresh peach

Blend!”

“HIckory Cane Corn – best lady ever ate.”

Note: I don’t know who the “lady” was, but probably someone on TV,  or mentioned in the newspaper.  Today, Hickory Cane Corn heirloom seeds are quite valuable.

Also, in the cookbook, are various newspaper clippings, including one titled, “Know Your Vermont Apples” and another about Alfalfa Tea and it’s ability to cure arthritis.

My mother added recipes to the book frequently.  She found them in the newspaper and in magazines, received them from friends and jotted them down during TV cooking shows.  I did notice that most of the recipes from TV are really only partial recipes.  Evidently she did not write fast enough to get the entire recipe.  Julia Child’s “Excellent Roast Chicken” recipe lists the ingredients, and half of the first line of preparation directions.    About that time, they had probably taken the recipe off of the screen, and the news or a commercial was back on.

I love sharing this cookbook with my daughters.  They remember their grandmother, but by the time they met her, she was no longer doing much cooking, so this gives them an opportunity to see her sparkling personality shining through her unique cookbook journaling.

What does this cookbook have to do with learning?  Everything!  There are lessons in history, science, agriculture, cooking, humor, gardening and medicine, but the most important lesson of all is love.

Now go make some notes in your cookbook…

Cooking up more lessons,

Ruth

----

“You will find this to be a more oniony soup than the usual kind but, as the cross old lady said when a stranger told her that her slip was showing, "I like it that way.” ~Margaret Yardley Potter, At Home on the Range.

The biggest seller is cookbooks and the second is diet books — how not to eat what you’ve just learned how to cook. ~Andy Rooney

I did toy with the idea of doing a cookbook... I think a lot of people who hate literature, but love fried eggs. would buy it if the price was right. ~Groucho Marx

Nothing better than a good story

From the very beginning, my life was filled with stories. As a young child, I remember many hours of sitting with my mother listening as she read all my favorite storybooks to me, again and again. She never seemed to tire of reading them, and I definitely didn't get tired of hearing them.

As I grew older, I looked forward to the visit of the county library's bookmobile. A large truck outfitted with shelves which were filled with, what seemed to me at the time, a huge array of books. My mother and I would walk up the steep hill to the parking lot of the old-fashioned general store. The bookmobile was always parked under a very tall oak tree beside the store. I would sit on a little step in front of the shelves of children's books, and choose 3 books. That was the maximum number anyone was allowed to check out. Mr. and Mrs. Guthrie, the husband and wife team who operated the bookmobile would ask, with a wink to my mom, if I thought I would be able to read all three books in just two weeks. I would assure them that I would be able to finish them before the bookmobile arrived on its next trip to our neighborhood. I knew that I would have read and reread those stories many times before the bookmobile returned.

On Sunday nights, our family would go to my Uncle Blake's farm. Uncle Blake and Aunt Beulah had a large, brick, outdoor fireplace. My other aunts, uncles and cousins would join us there, and we would roast corn in the fire, and cook hot dogs on sticks. As we sat around the fire, the storytelling would begin. Everyone in my family seemed to know endless jokes and stories. My dad was the best storyteller. He told jokes, and related interesting, and often funny things that had happened during the week. And all of the adults reminisced about events that had happened when they were children. Some of the stories were exciting, and many were funny. My cousins and I would spend a lot of time playing, but we usually spent an equal amount of time sitting with the grownups by the fire, listening to those wonderful stories.

My dad was the principal of my elementary school. He also taught 8th grade math there. He was a very tall man, and many of the little children were a bit frightened when they first met him, because he towered over them. They soon learned that he always had something funny to say, and although many of them were still a bit intimidated, most of them smiled a shy smile when they saw him, because they knew he would have a joke or funny story to tell them.

One of my dad’s favorite stories to tell was of when he was a little boy, about 6 years old.  He went to school in a one room schoolhouse.  Students at the school ranged in age from 5 to 17.  My dad looked up to the older boys in school, and wanted to do everything they did.  One day, 16 year old Paul told my dad he had a trick to show him.  Paul took a kernel of corn, the hard kind of corn that is fed to animals, and he put the kernel in his ear.  He appeared to be pushing it in very hard.  Then he moved his hand to his mouth, opened his mouth, and pulled out the kernel of corn.  Wow!

My dad was amazed!  He had never seen anything like that before.  He couldn’t wait to try it himself.  When he got home from school, he ran to the barn to get a kernel of that hard corn.  He pushed it into his ear.  He opened his mouth, and reached in, but there was no kernel of corn there.  He pushed it again, harder this time.  Again he checked his mouth, but no corn.  He decided he would pull it back out of his ear, but it wouldn’t come out.  Now what?  He decided to wait and try to get it out the next morning.  Again, no luck.  He would just have to leave it in his ear.  Maybe no one would notice.  The next day, his ear began to hurt.  He noticed it was getting red and very sore.  It wasn’t long before his mother noticed and asked him what had happened to his ear.  With his head down, he explained about Paul and his magic trick.  His mother told him not to try to do everything the older boys do, because sometimes they play tricks.  She explained that Paul had not really pushed it into his ear and then taken the same kernel out of his mouth.  My dad was so embarrassed.  The heat of his ear had made the kernel swell and soften.  His mom got a darning needle and picked the kernel out of his ear bit by bit.  His ear healed.  He never tried that trick again.  Every child who heard him tell that story smiled.  I’m almost certain that after hearing that story, none of them ever tried putting something in their ear and pulling it out of their mouth.

Mr. Mast was my social studies teacher in 7th and 8th grade. He was best known for saying those hated words, "Close your books, and get a clean sheet of paper. We're going to have a short quiz." He loved to surprise us, and I can still recall the queasy feeling in my stomach, when he said those words. Although he was a tough teacher, he was one of my favorites. His classes were filled with stories. He lived on a farm that had once been prime indian territory. His fields were filled with arrowheads and spearheads. He would bring them in to show us, as he told stories of the tribes who had left those reminders of their presence in the area.

One of the stories I loved to hear most was about Chief Tom Lion, who used to live near our town. What made this story especially interesting and exciting was that Chief Tom had lived in the area in the early 1900s, and there were many people who remembered him. Mr. Mast was an excellent storyteller, always including interesting tidbits that made the stories come to life. One of my best friends, in my class, was a boy named, Yogi. According to Mr. Mast, Chief Tom lived in the area that was now Yogi's backyard! Wow! All of the rest of Chief Tom's tribe had been forced to leave the area, but the chief refused to leave. Chief Tom didn't like the way the area was changing. Property owners didn't want him to hunt on their land, and he didn't have money to buy food. Using his ingenuity, he fashioned a belt made of animal tongues, taken from animals he had killed over the years. Wearing this belt, he would knock on the doors of area homes, and when the man or woman of the house answered the door, he would tell them that if they didn't give him food, he would add their tongue to his belt. This part of the story usually drew gasps and wide-eyed expressions. The first time I heard the story, I remember hurrying home from school to ask my mother if she had ever heard of Tom Lion. I was amazed when she said, "Of course! He used to come to our house, and ask for food, and he would tell us that if we didn't give it to him, he would cut out our tongues." I couldn't believe it! Not only was the story true, but my mom had met Chief Tom... often! She said that everyone was sure that the tongues on his belt were from animals, but no one wanted to take a chance by refusing the chief's request. I still think of Chief Tom when I drive past Yogi's parents' house today. Mr. Mast's story not only made history come to life, it gave me a personal connection to the past.

In high school, my favorite teacher was Mr Miller. He taught history, U. S. government and sociology classes. He knew stories about all of the U.S. Presidents, stories about army generals, pioneers, kings and queens and politicians. He told us about people he had known, things he had done and places he had visited. We had textbooks that served as the guide for what we were to study, but Mr. Miller always shared stories with us from many other books. Those stories were much more exciting and memorable than the dull facts of the textbooks. The stories from books like the American Heritage books, made history come to life. Most of Mr. Miller's classes included a lot of laughter. He had a way of sharing his thoughts about a historical event that made us laugh. When he explained a difficult concept, or one that he wanted to be sure we would remember, he would include a story about something that had happened in his life that related to that concept.  Oh how I loved Mr. Miller’s classes!

I heard David McCullough, the historian and author, speak a few years ago, and he stated that  history needs to be taught with emphasis on the stories of the people who played important roles in major events in the history of our country and the world.  He said it’s the people who are important, not the dates.  I agree with him completely!

After college, I began working for a local bank.  I worked with many nice people, but one of my favorites was a man named, Larry. He was the Senior Vice President of the bank, and in addition to working with Larry on a daily basis, I often had to travel to meetings with him. I never minded time spending time with him, because he had a never-ending supply of jokes and stories. I would laugh until tears were rolling down my cheeks.

Larry began working at the bank when he was a senior in high school. Larry and another teen were responsible for driving a truckload of coins to the Federal Reserve Bank in Cleveland each week. The bank had a vending company as a customer, and there were far more coins than the bank needed, so the excess coins had to be taken to the Fed. Larry said that he was a little nervous about being entrusted with the safekeeping of all this money, so he and Virgil, the other teen decided that they should get some type of protection. They were afraid to carry a real gun, so they chose a starter pistol, which the high school track coach let them borrow each week before they made the trip to Cleveland. (These were different times, you must remember... ) Larry said that he and Virgil felt much safer carrying the impressive looking, but useless pistol with them. He added that he never considered the fact that anyone who tried to steal $10,000 worth of coins would have trouble carrying it, or that it would take a long time to unload all those heavy bags. According to Larry, "I finally realized that anyone who tried to steal one of those bags would have had their hands full trying to lug it to their car, and we could have tackled him before he got very far." Larry was a dramatic story teller, but he would start to laugh as he approached the end of the story, and sometimes, he could barely finish it because he was laughing so hard at his own tale.

Another week, I was reviewing expense accounts for various officers of the bank. When I got to Larry's, I noticed that there were 5 pages of charges from Juli-Fe View Country Club. Most of the charges were for only 10 or 20 cents, but there were hundreds of them. I asked Larry if they were legitimate charges or if the country club had made a mistake. Larry shook his head, and said, "Oh, they're legitimate charges, but I'll pay for those myself. My wife has been taking my son, Joe, swimming there every day, and Joe figured out he can buy candy bars by just saying, 'put it on my dad's tab.' Now I have all these charges for Zero bars and Milky Ways."

Joe was involved in another of Larry's stories. One Christmas, after everyone was in bed, Larry heard a man talking in their house. He jumped out of bed, and grabbed a baseball bat from their hall closet. His heart was pounding, and it began pounding even harder when he realized that the man's voice was coming from young Joe's bedroom. Just as he was about to burst into the room, and beat the intruder with the bat, he heard the words, "This is Batman! Wake up Robin! The Joker is on the loose." Larry breathed a sigh of relief. It was just the talking alarm clock which they had given Joe for Christmas. He was a little irritated that Joe had set it for 2:00 am! And, he just shook his head, when he noticed that Joe was sleeping soundly, despite Batman's repeated attempts to wake him. I have thought of Larry's stories about Joe often as my daughters were growing up. Life with children is never dull!

When we began homeschooling, I often took my daughters to Cleveland Metroparks programs. Their favorites, and mine, were the programs led by Foster Brown, the Historical Interpreter, and Demetrius Lambert, who was a naturalist at Garfield park. Both of these individuals are excellent storytellers. They told stories that were exciting, scary, funny and lesson enhancing. Their stories revolved around facts or concepts that they wanted the children to remember, and because of the way the facts were presented, the children do remember them. I will never forget the fact that the Barred Owl makes a cry that sounds like, "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?" Foster told such a long, twisting, hilarious story to make this point that it is firmly entrenched in my memory. Although it has been many years, both of my daughters still remember many facts about birds, insects, canal diggers, medicinal plants and famous Ohioans because of Foster's stories and songs. When we visited a southern plantation a few years ago, the girls knew more than the docents about the slave era, because of Demetrius' stories. Her stories painted vivid pictures in their minds that will not be erased.  Demetrius, also, shared many stories about George Washington Carver.  When we saw an actor portraying Mr. Carver at Greenfield Village in Michigan, we almost felt as though we were meeting an old friend, because Demetrius had told us about so many things he had done.  

All of these people and many more have influenced me greatly. Maybe part of it is genetic, because storytelling seems to run in my family. I know that I am a storyteller. I love listening to others and hearing their stories, and I love sharing those stories with others. Stories make difficult concepts clear. They lift burdens of sadness. They bring history and its people to life.  They make people laugh, and they make people cry.  

So many people have influenced my life and the lives of my daughters. Many of these people have died, but through their stories, they live on in our lives. They make us laugh, cry, sigh and remember. Our lives are enriched because of them.

Your children want to know your stories. Tell them about your childhood, good and bad. Tell them about your parents, your grandparents, your neighbors from long ago. Share with them, the things that have frightened you and the things that have made you laugh. Where have you found encouragement when you were down? What has inspired you or touched your heart?

We learn how to handle the events and experiences in our own lives, by hearing stories of how others have handled those events and experiences in their lives. Stories are an important teaching tool for children and adults. Share a story today!

With warm memories of many stories,

Ruth

- - -

“If you've heard this story before, don't stop me, because I'd like to hear it again.” - Groucho Marx

"A song ain’t nothin’ in the world but a story just wrote with music to it." - Hank Williams, Sr.

"Stories live in your blood and bones, follow the seasons and light candles on the darkest night.  every storyteller knows she or he is also a teacher..." - Patti Davis

"There have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but there have been no societies

that did not tell stories." - Ursula K. LeGuin

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.” ― Gilda Radner (June 28, 1946 – May 20, 1989)

Lifelong Learning: It's not just for senior citizens

I have two daughters, both of whom were homeschooled.  I chose to homeschool for a variety of reasons, but one of my primary goals was to develop a love of learning within each of them, that would last throughout their lifetimes.  I wanted them to retain that childhood curiosity that made the world and everything in it endlessly fascinating.

When we began homeschooling, we followed a very traditional approach.  My dad was a public school administrator, teacher and coach.  My mom taught in an all-Amish public school.  My brother, and most of my aunts and uncles, and even my neighbors were all teachers in the public school system.  Family gatherings were usually filled with endless conversation about the “school business.”  When I announced that I would be homeschooling my daughters, I received support from all those teachers, along with stacks of textbooks and workbooks that they had accumulated over the years.

For the first 6 weeks, my oldest daughter loved her lessons, and eagerly completed them.  My younger daughter wasn’t ready for textbooks or workbooks yet, but she liked sitting at a little desk with her paper and crayons, as her older sister did her schoolwork.

Then we made the mistake of visiting the library to look for a book about dogs.  So many books… fiction, non-fiction, picture books, books about dogs, cats, trains, stars.  Books that were hilarious.  Books with amazing covers, and even more amazing pages inside.  We carried armfuls of books home with us.  In 2 days, we had finished them, and went back to get more.  We brought large tote bags with us.  The bags were filled, the books were checked out, taken home,  eagerly read and put back in the bag to be returned.  We began to visit the library daily.

Kylia, my oldest worried that she would soon have read all of the books in the library, and then what would she do.  The librarian assured her that it would not be a problem, because new books were arriving each week, and no one had yet read all of the books.

As the weeks passed, they were filled with hours of reading, and field trips to see things we had read about.  We cooked foods that were mentioned in stories.  Our family visited historic sites that had been shown in the library books.  We made crafts, did science experiments, went to programs at museums and the wonderful Cleveland Metroparks, and we completely forgot about all those textbooks and workbooks.

At the end of the year, we had boxes of photos, crafts, dissected owl pellets, dried leaves, recipes and a seemingly endless list of books we had read.  As the years passed, the girls grew up, and their interests changed, but their passion did not wane.

My oldest daughter is now passionate about trains.  She works for the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railroad, and has read every book she has been able to find about trains and the railroad industry. She asks the experienced train mechanics and conductors and trainmen hundreds of questions.

My youngest daughter is an artist and a musician.  She reads books about art and music, and studies artists and musicians, especially guitarists.   She attends concerts, visits galleries and scours the Internet for information about favorite musicians and artists.  Her days are filled with hours of playing the guitar, and hours of sketching.

Although these are their passions, their interests are not limited to trains, art and music.  They share information with me about a wide variety of topics that they have read about or heard about, and we discuss them.  I feel confident that they are lifelong learners.

Because I am passionate about learning, I set up a Google alert for news about “lifelong learning.” As an educator, speaker and learning consultant, I like to read what others are doing to inspire the desire for learning in children and teens.  I soon discovered that the term “lifelong learning” is nearly always used when referring to learning opportunities for senior citizens.  How sad!

I’m glad the learning opportunities are there for seniors, however, I would like to see just as many opportunities for other age groups.

One of the things I notice about the classes and activities for seniors, is that nearly all of them are described as “fun” and “interesting.”  And the seniors often comment that they really enjoyed these classes, and they are eager to try out the new skills they learned.

The senior citizens do not have to worry about grades or tests or making mistakes.  They are there to learn, and they help each other, and they have fun.

If our children all had the opportunity to learn, just for the joy of learning, what a difference it would make, and maybe we would become a nation of passionate, lifelong learners.

Passionately learning everyday,

Ruth

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“Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young.” ― Henry Ford

“Self-education is, I firmly believe, the only kind of education there is.” ― Isaac Asimov

“You'll never know everything about anything, especially something you love.” ― Julia Child  

(I read the above quote in a voice similar to Julia Child's and couldn't stop laughing.)

“I read my eyes out and can't read half enough...the more one reads the more one sees we have to read.” ― John Adams

"Learning is not a product of schooling but the lifelong attempt to acquire it."   

- Albert Einstein