Sonlight Box Day!!

We FINALLY opened the boxes!

They've been sitting in our living room, staring at us, silently begging me to open them - urged on by the audible pleadings of my children.

But other things had to take priority - until this week.

We are preparing for overnight guests, so I motivated my children to clean their rooms with a promise to be allowed to help me unload those Sonlight boxes in the living room. (For the record, this is a job I usually keep to myself, so it's a BIG DEAL.)

The girls' room was cleaned in record time.

The boys missed out. Although they tried to sneak in here and there.

Anna's job was to unload the boxes and show me the books so I could check the packing list.

Lydia's job was to take pictures.

It got a little crazy, especially since we had to chase the boys out of the living room about every 15 minutes (usually after Anna or I or Lydia would exclaim loudly, "Wow! Look at this book!")

But, the books are on the shelf, ready for school Monday. Last years' books are packed away, waiting for their turn with the younger two.

My friend Barb even stopped by yesterday to help me put together the Instructor's Guides, although I didn't get any pictures.

The best part was this morning, when Isaac said to me, "Mom, why can't we start school today? I mean, I'm getting bored of summer break."

I mollified him by listening to him read Nate the Great out loud.

These Houses

As I child, I longed for cousins on the Nyberg side. It was just my brother, sister and I for so long.

I remember being in my aunt's wedding, and counting down the very long days before a cousin would come. To a girl of seven, three years is an eternity!

Once Matthew came, the cousins started coming - thick and fast, you might say. Eight cousins in nine years - my siblings and I were in heaven.

Aren't they so cute? We spent so much time with them when they were little... then right about the time they were really growing up, I went to college, got a job, married and moved to Florida. Busy with my own life, I missed out on significant parts of their growing-up years, thus my cousins are much closer to my siblings than to me.

Still, I adore them. And now, as our family celebrates their marriages, births of their children, their engagements - not even the rapid growth of my own children makes me feel as old as these events.

Today's poem is for my dear Nyberg cousins: I love you. I am praying this for you as you stretch your wings, choose your life-long mate, raise your precious babes.

Prayer For This House

Louis Untermeyer

May nothing evil cross this door,

And may ill-fortune never pry

About these windows; may the roar

And rains go by.

Strengthened by faith, the rafters will

Withstand the battering of the storm.

This hearth, though all the world grow chill

Will keep you warm.

Peace shall walk softly through these rooms,

Touching your lips with holy wine,

Till every casual corner blooms

Into a shrine.

Laughter shall drown the raucous shout

And, though the sheltering walls are thin,

May they be strong to keep hate out

And hold love in.

Find more poetry here.

Best-laid plans

Kelsey & Ryan

Isaac & Mary

Priscilla & Lydia

the first-cousins-once-removed (except Elijah & Ben)

Great-Grandma Nelson

What a beautiful wedding! But what a weekend!

We were all so excited to be helping my cousin Kelsey celebrate her marriage to Ryan this past weekend. The girls had their beautiful dresses picked out (Lydia chose to wear the one Kelsey herself wore as the flower girl in my wedding), the boys were grudgingly planning on wearing ties for the occasion. We were excited to see first cousins, first-cousins-once-removed (ie, my cousins), second-cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, great-aunts and great-uncles.

Then we ate dinner Friday night. The first sign that something was wrong came Saturday morning. Anna started throwing up. Then Glen wasn't feeling well, but would not allow himself to admit it. We made alternate plans - Glen would take Nathaniel (whom we thought had pink eye) and Anna home. Lydia & Isaac & I would take the train from Battle Creek back to Chicago.

The three of us attended the ceremony - beautiful! So wonderful, beautiful setting, perfect weather, happy couple, happy family. We missed the other half of our family, but were glad we could attend.

Then, at the reception, I started not feeling good. I couldn't eat anything and could hardly put two sentences together. Then Lydia started throwing up. Nearly in tears, I called Glen, "Please turn around and come get us!"

He did, bless his heart. We left the wedding early, turned on the TV in the hotel room for the children, and crashed.

There's always drama at a wedding. Just wish we could have been left out of it. (As a side note, at Kelsey's sister's wedding, little Mary was throwing up & sick. Molly missed that one. I decided that at the next Nyberg wedding, my sister Carrie needs to have the drama. Not that I wish it on anyone...)

The good news is that the rest of the wedding went very smoothly and all the cousins, first-cousins-once-removed, second-cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, great-aunts and great-uncles had a wonderful time. I've seen the pictures.

Finding Normal

I've logged on to write this post about three or four times this week, but always something more pressing comes my way (making dinner, bedtime, work), and I close blogger without writing anything. I've missed three Poetry Wednesdays now, which means I have to write it on my calendar now, or I'll never remember to post on Wednesdays again.

So much has happened - Glen and I have been to Alaska, Canada and back. My parents survived a week and a half with our boys, including a week of Cousins' Camp (with 8 grandkids, ages 4-12), our girls have been to overnight camp in Indiana and back. The children and I babysat a friend's toddler so her parents could go to Great America on Tuesday - and then we spent the day there yesterday.

We are wiped out. Tomorrow, we all leave for Michigan (lower peninsula this time), for my cousin's wedding. We are so excited!

And to top it all off, I have two Sonlight boxes in my living room just dying to be opened. My 10yo keeps asking if she can bring up the books for her younger siblings.

"I'm looking for something to read, Mom, and I know you'll let me read their books since I can't open my school books."

When will we get settled into our routine? Who knows. I hope to have my official "Sonlight Box Day" next week (I'll post pictures!), and we plan to start school August 16. (Public schools start on the 18th.)

I'll stop writing now, and leave you with some of my favorite pictures from the last few weeks. I'll try not to be excessive... but we were on an Alaskan cruise after all! :)

This is just the children's luggage. Packing was a nightmare!

But worth it! The flowers in Anchorage were gorgeous.

Here we are at the Hubbard Glacier

Pitchfork Falls outside Skagway, AK

Mendenhall Glacier outside of Juneau, AK

It rained all day - we were soaked!!

All the cousins at Papa & Nana's

Anna (in pink) & Lydia (in yellow) at overnight camp

Setting Sail

It's been a summer of travel for us - I've been home a week from a trip to Upper Michigan. (One reason why I didn't post a poem last week - the drive home wore me out!) Now, I'm preparing for the next trip - setting sail on Monday for an Alaskan cruise. We are excited!

Back to the UP (Upper Peninsula of Michigan) - one of the stops we make when we visit Gladstone is to a wonderful little used bookstore called Frigate Books. The owner homeschooled her children, has a wonderful eye for great books, and is always patient with my children's enthusiasm and my lack of attention to details (like having enough cash to pay for our purchases).

This summer, I asked about poems from local poets - looking for poems to share for Poetry Wednesday. As we discussed poems, she shared with me the poem behind the name of her store.

So - as I prepare to set sail, both literally & figuratively (since I'm about to grab a book and head for bed) - here is the inspiration behind Frigate Books. If you're ever in Gladstone, Michigan, be sure to stop in. After lunch, though, because she works at K-Mart in Escanaba until 11 a.m.

There is no frigate like a book
to take us lands away

Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing Poetry -

This Traverse may the poorest take
without oppress of Toll -

how frugal is the Chariot
that bears the Human Soul.
-Emily Dickinson

(by the way - the picture above is an actual frigate, courtesy of flikr)

Recovering, Remembering, Preparing

The children and I drove back from upper Michigan nearly a week ago. I have finally downloaded the pictures from our trip - a sure sign that I've recovered from the long drive.

One of our favorite activities in the UP is going on an adventure. My sister started the tradition a couple of years ago with a trip to Fayette, a restored iron smelting town. Now, my children eagerly anticipate each year's adventure.

This year, we went to Marquette, on Lake Superior. We visited the Marquette Maritime Museum & Lighthouse. It was beautiful, interesting and so fun!

Walking to the lighthouse

This was the coolest thing - a real periscope from a US submarine installed in the museum. The views were amazing - and so clear!

A view from the lighthouse of Marquette Harbor.

The Marquette Harbor Lighthouse. Still operational, but fully automated.

If Nathaniel does not become a zoologist, he may become a geologist.
He finds the most fascinating rocks. We had to leave this one behind because it was US Government property.

one of the many attempts to get a picture of me and the children.

A great picture of my sister, Carrie, & her boyfriend, Omar.
It helps when there are no children.

The streets were full for the famous Gladstone July 4th parade.

We got there early for front row seats. Don't they look excited?

But by evening, a storm had moved in. Our sparklers were rained out and so were the fireworks.

The next day, we decided to try a mini-adventure - a trip to Sand Point Lighthouse in nearby Escanaba. It's no longer functional, so we could go to the very top.

Beautiful view! (honestly, I was nervous about the laundry I had hung on the line...)

Finally, a picture of me and the children where all cooperated! What? You can't see us? Oh, we're that dark spot to the right of the door to the tower. Don't we look lovely?

Those clouds did hold rain, and fireworks were rained out for the 2nd time. So were our sparklers. We decided to pull the car out of the garage, and celebrate the 4th inside with our sparklers, a day late.

We did have fun - especially with Carrie & Omar. Even without Papa, Nana and Daddy.

Now, it's time to prepare for Alaska, camps, etc. I have a whole lot of laundry to do (hopefully the broken washer will be fixed tonight or tomorrow), then a whole lot of packing.

It's been a crazy busy - but oh-so-much-fun - summer!

Son of Hamas

It is truly amazing that Mosab Hassan Yousef is not dead. By all accounts, he should be - and he explains why in his book Son of Hamas: A Gripping Account of Terror, Betrayal, Political Intrigue, and Unthinkable Choices, written with Ron Brackin.

Yousef is the son of one of the founders of Hamas, a terrorist organization founded in the West Bank of Israel by Palestinians. He tells of his childhood, teen years, and young adult years living in the West Bank. He tells of his own imprisonment and how Israel's Shin Bet successfully recruited him to gather intelligence on Hamas actions, plans, and leadership.

What really amazes me is how Yousef, as he matures, finds himself diametrically opposed to his father's beliefs, and yet remains so intensely loyal to him. Yousef's father is alive today because of Yousef's involvement with Shin Bet. And Yousef is alive today because his father has refused to disown him, even after his betrayal of his father's work and religion.

Son of Hamas is an amazing story, well worth reading. It's not only a gripping personal story, but also gives great insight into the struggle for peace in the Middle East.

The House was Quiet...

As I was frantically thinking of everything I needed to pack for our week-long trip to 'da UP, eh?' (upper peninsula of Michigan), my eye caught the cable I need to attach my camera to my computer.

"I don't need to take that," I told myself. "I'm not bringing my computer."

Then a client called. "I need you to write some letters for me. How soon can you get them written?"

I gulped, "uh - Wednesday?"

"That's great," she said.

"So," thought I, "I am bringing my computer."

That did not help me remember that important little cord. So - pictures of the UP will have to wait until I am home.

I am writing from one of my children's favorite places to visit in the UP. "The beach?" you ask.

Nope.

"The way cool 'Kids' Kingdom' park down by the lake," is your next guess.

Nope.

The Gladstone Public Library. You are surprised, I can tell. But it's true! The first place they asked to visit when we arrived on Monday afternoon was the library.

What's so special about the Gladstone Public Library? Not much, except it's in Gladstone, and it's across the street from Grandma's house. Plus, I let them pop into the library whenever they want. Without me.

They love it.

We are staying at my grandmother's house, which is for sale. (We were, in fact, kicked out last night for a showing. We just went across the street to the school playground.) The house is practically empty, and while we do have electricity and running water, there is no cable TV, no telephone, no internet.

It is very, very quiet. And wonderful. We are listening to lots of audiobooks, reading lots of books, walking around town and spending afternoons at the beach. We're playing games in the evening after dinner, and after the kids are in bed, I read on the porch until it is too dark to see. Then I go to bed.

It's lovely. The only thing that would be better is if my husband could be here with me. But he had to work. At his office. No tele-commuting for him!

In honor of Poetry Wednesday, I found this poem here at the Gladstone Public Library.

The House was Quiet and the World was Calm
Wallace Stevens

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night

Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The words were spoken as if there was no book;
Except that the reader leaned above the page,

Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

The summer night is like a perfection of though.
The house was quiet because it had to be.

The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind;
The access of perfection to the page.

And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself

Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.

Click here to read more poetry.

Profits Aren't Everything...

I was browsing my library's "New Book" shelves, looking for an interesting business book to read, when I came across Profits Aren't Everything, They're the Only Thing by George Cloutier with Samantha Marshall.

What a provocative title, right?

The subtitle is even more intriguing: No-Nonsense Rules from the Ultimate Contrarian and Small Business Guru.

I wondered exactly how contrarian George Cloutier really is - so I picked up the book.

I almost put it down again when I glanced at the fly-leaf. It gives some of his rules:

The best family business has one member.
Weekends are for working, not playing golf or coaching.
Never pay your vendors on time.
Wear your control freak badge with pride.
Quit denial: if your business is failing during a recession, it's your fault.

Which of these rules rubs you the wrong way? None of them? Well, there are fifteen rules in this short book, so I'm sure one of them will make you mad.

Even so, I would encourage you to read this book - especially if you are a business owner. You will not agree with everything Cloutier says, but you may end up agreeing with more of his rules than you anticipate after you reading through his reasoning.

And even if you don't, he might make you mad enough to prove him wrong - which would only help your business. That would be worth the read.

Chicago

Today, we had planned to go to Great America. We woke up to thunderstorms and it rained all morning.

The children asked to go to the library, so we loaded up our books & dashed through the rain to the library. I thought, while I was there, I'd quick find a book with a poem about rain in it for poetry wednesday.

Ya, right.

I glanced through the children's poetry section. I looked through the adult poetry section. I should have googled it or something. I came home with The Oxford Book of American Verse (copyright 1950), because it was thick, and I figured I could find something about rain.

Well, I did! Something incomprehensible, written by Mr. Edward Taylor, who lived 1645-1729.

So, on went the hunt. Now it's quite sunny and the children are dressed for the beach. A poem about rain didn't seem to fit.

Then I found this one from Carl Sandburg. I have never lived in the city itself, but I appreciate it from afar (ie, the suburbs).

(Side note: I visited my sister's office downtown a few years ago and her colleague asked me if I was in from out-of-town. I said, "Well, I guess I am if you consider the suburbs 'out-of-town'." She laughed and answered, "Yes, actually, I do!"

this is for my sister - who loves the city and the UP with equal fervor)

Chicago
Carl Sandburg

Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.

They tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.

And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.

And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:

Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and course and strong and cunning.

Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a told bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Building, breaking rebuilding,

Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,

Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,

Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,

Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse,
and under his ribs is the heart of the people,

Laughing!

Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.

Mosquito

This morning I sent three of my children off to day camp. (whew!)

My oldest was waiting for his friend to come pick him up for a trip to Great America (lucky kid!), so I decided to wait outside with him and get at least a little weeding done. It was on my list, and I wasn't quite ready to start writing (which is really the number one priority while the house is quiet).

All that to say - I hate mosquitoes. They are everywhere. As soon as my son was gone, I dashed inside, ready to do anything else that would not involve fighting mosquitoes.

Which makes my pick for poetry wednesday just a tad ironic. I guess I feel a need to seek out another perspective on the dreadfully annoying insect that I swear is a result of the Fall (Genesis 3) - God did not create mosquitoes. They must have had some other purpose in the Garden of Eden, although I cannot think of what would have been.

So here it is: another perspective on that dreaded insect.

mosquito
valerie worth

There is more
To a mosquito
Than her sting
Or the way she sings
In the ear:

There are her wings
As clear
As windows,
There are the sleek
Velvets on her back;

She bends six
Slender knees,
And her eye, that
Sees the swatter,
Glitters.

On the Attack

I feel I have to preface this poem with a disclaimer.

I am a basketball fan, but I have not followed women's professional basketball (WNBA).

However, when I was looking for basketball poems, I ran across this book about professional women basketball players and several of the poems in it are just fantastic.

So, since the WNBA season is going on right now, and since I'm waiting for the children to completely finish their chores so we can go to the beach (and I think technically they are now waiting for me), I will share with you this poem about Lisa Leslie, a WNBA player for the LA Sparks.

On The Attack: Lisa Leslie

By Charles R. Smith, Jr.

Graceful gazelle

gallops and glides

fast past defenders

with effortless strides.

Sly and swift

and standing tall,

eyes on alert,

nose sniffing for ball.

Positioned in paint

ready to score,

on misses and bricks

bouncing from boards.

Two points scored

on rebound and putback,

using animal instincts

while attacking the rack.

Events Too Many to Mention....

Life has been going full-speed ahead recently! Noteworthy events include:

You might think by this pile of hair I shaved a dog.
Nope.

Just gave the Leichty boys haircuts on Saturday.

Here they are after their cuts.
(scroll down a few posts to see the 'before' shot)

On Sunday (as in yesterday), we met my family in the city for an afternoon together to celebrate Nana's (my mom's) birthday.

Since this is a public blog, I won't reveal her age.
(I bet you'll never guess!)

Doesn't she look great?

We were supposed to go to the Lincoln Park Zoo.
Then it rained. No, it poured!
Luckily, I have a well-connected sister (and brother, lest he nail me for not crediting him too) who found us a beautiful brownstone to shelter in and celebrate Nana's birthday.

Here she is with every last one of her grandkids - all eight.

And lest you think they are actually as angelic as they look,
I had to promise the following picture as a reward for looking so angelic in the first.

Nana, of course, takes it all in stride.
Doesn't she look serene?

(Quick story, because it's so classic and so I don't forget it: Ben (in the blue shirt) was playing hard with Lydia (in the pink headband & pink shirt) at the park. He kept calling her "Olivia! Olivia!" and his mom overheard.
"Ben," Molly admonished, "your cousin's name is Lydia, not Olivia. You need to get it right!" Lydia overheard this conversation and stepped in.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I don't care what he calls me as long as it starts with an 'L'. "
Oh. my. word. We laughed our tails off!
In case you're wondering, they are both the 3rd-born. Oh so much in common...)


Now, the biggest news of the weekend, the week, the month (at least so far!) is....

Isaac learned to ride his bike today!

Isaac tells me he walked his bike around a little, sitting on the seat. Then, the minute he decided to put his feet on the pedals, "I was awesome Mom!"

This boy has no problem with humility... hm.

Here he is with his coaches - and good ones they were.

It is quite an accomplishment for him - he was quite fearful of learning to ride.

And now - just look at him!

Too Big to Fail

I quite surprised myself two weeks ago when I picked up Too Big to Fail by Andrew Ross Sorkin. It's a huge, huge book - 544 pages (including Acknowledgements) and about 50 pages of footnotes and bibliography after that.

More surprising to me was that I thought I might be interested in the topic - the front of the book states "The inside story of how Wall Street and Washington fought to save the financial system - and themselves."

A dry topic for someone who admits no financial acumen, nor interest in Wall Street.

I remember shrugging, thinking, "well, I'll read the first chapter & if it's boring, I'll return it."

Now, it's two weeks later, and I've not only read the first chapter, but I've read the entire 544 pages (I have to remember to write that down for the summer reading program!)

If you haven't guessed already, let me tell you how this book absolutely engaged my attention. This is not a dry book, discussing derivatives, securities, credit loans, etc. and how they brought down Wall Street.

All of the above are mentioned - you cannot write a book about Wall Street without mentioning those mysterious words. But Sorkin does a masterful job of making the reader understand, not the intricacies of these words, but the implications of these words. And the implications are what caused havoc in our economic system.

Sorkin focuses on the people involved in the dramatic events of 2008 - starting when JP Morgan bought Bear Stearns. I remember when Lehman Brothers failed - but I wasn't paying attention to events on Wall Street at the time. It doesn't affect me much - I felt (perhaps still feel) quite distanced from the events in New York & Washington... and can appreciate even more fully why Warren Buffet maintains his office in Omaha instead of New York.

I'll admit, I still don't understand why the CEOs of Lehman, Morgan Stanley & Goldman Sachs despise the short sellers - and why short selling stock is so detrimental to a firm - but I do feel I have a better understanding of the dramatic events of the fall of 2008 and a better understanding of who are some of the big 'players' on Wall Street.

And, I spent time enjoying a well-written book.

The End of Everything

We are wrapping up our school year in the Leichty house. It's not technically the end of everything, but it is the end of everything 6th, 4th, 2nd & 1st grade.

I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that my oldest child no longer qualifies for the children's programs at the library. Now he must register for the summer reading program at the Adult Reference Desk. And if there's a library program he wants to participate in, he qualifies for the Teen programs.

YIKES! When did this happen??

I just finished reading Stoneheart, a book he's going to read for the Middle School book club. He was reluctant to sign up for it, because he wasn't sure he wanted to go to a book club without me. And he wanted me to read it first to make sure it was OK for him to read.

(BTW: it is, I enjoyed it, and I'll write a review of it later on my kidsbooksthatrock.com blog)

sigh

I guess I am still important in his life.

The last book we enjoyed together for school was The Hobbit. I'll admit - I was chicken to read the whole thing out loud, so we requested the audio book via inter-library loan. We finished it this morning - it was wonderful. Rob Inglis read it and did a masterful job. I'm tempted to buy a copy for our family because I know we will enjoy it again and again.

At the end of The Hobbit, as Bilbo approaches his home after his huge adventure, he makes up this poem:

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.

Life has a way of changing us - I hope mostly for the better. This homeschooling journey we've embarked on has certainly changed me - and again I add - hopefully for the better.

That said, I am looking forward to a great summer break - I think as heartily as Bilbo was looking forward to his own hobbit-hole.

And I am also looking forward to our next adventure - as we start 7th, 5th, 3rd & 2nd come August. But let's not get ahead of ourselves!