“Measure his education, not solely by his progress in the ‘three R’s,’ but by the number of living and growing things he knows by look, name, and habitat.” –Charlotte Mason
The sun is out nearly every afternoon now, warm and inviting. There have already been a few trips to check in on the creek, and a good number of plans made for a whole village of “mouses’ houses.” The back field has been plowed. Birds are flitting in and out of the houses that dot our property.
And we’re learning.
Yes, we’re learning book things. We recently grappled with World Wars One and Two, which are deep, heady things to speak to young children about. At the end of a morning spent explaining the birth of the atomic bomb, it was a welcome thing to step out of our barn and hear the cacophony of our hens, feel the wind on my face, and watch five little ones burst headlong into the fields in search of whatever treasure (living or otherwise) might be hiding there.
While it’s important to learn about wars and nouns and how gravity keeps us from flinging into space, it’s every bit as needful to stop and watch the woodpecker that frequents one of our Elm trees, or to spend a big chunk of our afternoon watching the plow overturn the back field while we talk about pumpkins and zucchini and why chicken poop is good fertilizer.
So we do both.
In the morning it’s making the perfect cursive letter “S,” and being able to mentally figure how much Eleanor spent at the fabric store if she bought a yard of fabric for $1, thread for 50 cents, and a box of buttons for 75 cents. In the afternoon, it’s watching a hawk and a crow dodge and dive at one another in a sky battle.
I love spring. I love homeschooling. I love seasons where life feels full of promise. Right now, the Lord has gifted me with the ability to have all three, and I am grateful.