I have so much left on my to do list everyday that I wasn't even going to entertain the idea of the Journey North Mystery Class. But when Lissa told me I could copy off her paper if we got behind, I went ahead and printed out the forms. I'm so grateful for the encouragement because this is February.
11 colored pencils or pens strewn all over the dining room table and numbers scribbled on scrap pieces of paper. The space around the brightest window looks more and more like a landfill as seedlings sprout in yogurt containers and plastic bakery boxes. The cool, damp air smells like hyacinths and freesias as the bulbs finally bloom in their little clay pots by the kitchen sink.
We've resumed lessons with enthusiasm and order. Where there wasn't enough time over the holidays, there is now. Just barely. Poetry, art, music, audiobooks make their way back into our schedule. And science - living and present.
I hope that when my children leave, they take with them all of these things. February should smell like hyacinths, sound like Vivaldi and Cedar Waxwings, and feel like colored pencils in their hands.
