bearing blog


bear – ing n 1  the manner in which one comports oneself;  2  the act, power, or time of bringing forth offspring or fruit; 3 a machine part in which another part turns [a journal ~];  pl comprehension of one’s position, environment, or situation;   5  the act of moving while supporting the weight of something [the ~ of the cross].


  • Reminder: Homeschool room photostream drawing coming up…

    This is just a reminder that Dorian Speed and I are sponsoring a little Flickr photostream contest along the theme, "How does your schooling space fit into your home?"

    Dorian's post explaining the rules and two ways to submit a photo, here.  Photo pool with samples here, including some from me.

    For example, I included this one:

    DSCN0815

    with the caption:

    This is my schoolroom.  

    My husband made the desks; they are really just boxes.  The gray metal rolling drawer units are from IKEA, about $25 each. The junior office chairs are also from IKEA.

    The desks are lightweight and easily moved.  We sometimes put them together to make a big table.  I have four altogether (one is just barely visible around the corner).


    Originally the submission deadline was going to be Sunday, August 21, but we had some trouble getting the photostream set up (I'm a Flickr newbie) and so the deadline will probably be extended to August 31.

    Please caption your photos — we want to know what we're looking at!


  • Improvements.

    Seeing as I've been sufferig from blogger's block lately, I thought maybe I'd do a week or so of reposts of old favorites.  While I was looking for some, clicking through my old posts, I found this one from about six years ago:

    Here's an interesting mortality calculator.  Not only does it tell you how long you're slated to live, it tells you how much you could increase that by changing certain habits.

    I'm supposed to last until mid-2063, when I'm nearly 89 years old.  This is a bit less than the median (the median survival age of the general population, or of those taking the test?)  I blame my parents.

    Apparently I could live about eight months longer if I stopped driving, avoided all major stress (at least in the last year of my life), became a conditioning exerciser instead of just an "occasional" exerciser, and stopped having sex.   Six of those months come from exercising.  Apparently avoiding driving is only good for about ten days, and stress for three weeks.   Sex is costing me two whole weeks of my life!

    For some odd reason, the model also cheerfully informs me that if I don't mind cutting my life short by 0.34 years, I can increase my alcohol consumption to 2-3 drinks per day.  Is that good news?

    I wouldn't call the post a favorite, but of course I couldn't help but check, and it turned out that the mortality calculator is still there.  I took the quiz again today.  With my new lifestyle, and (I suppose) a few extra years in which to demonstrate my survivability, this time I get to live to … 2068.

    In six years, I gained five years of my life!

    And I didn't even have to stop having sex.


  • Bus.

    I took my eleven-year-old son on a small adventure over the weekend:  bus travel.

    It's not that riding around on the city bus is particularly exciting in and of itself.  Because there are four children, we don't do it much, except once in a while when the car is in the shop.  It is always a little bit of a treat for the kids ("Hurray!  We're going on the bus!") until the trip turns out to be much longer than it is in our car.  

    Saturday, though, my son and I went so that he could practice riding the bus with an eye to someday going by himself.  

    I've always thought that by the time my kids were fourteen or so, earlier even maybe, they ought to be comfortable using the city bus system to get around Minneapolis and St. Paul, completely independently.  It's all part of my "don't drive kids all over creation" plan:  at some point I want to say "Hey, kid, here's some money, go to the mall and buy some pants that fit you," and the sooner the better if you ask me.  Anyway, not too long ago I did the math and realized that if the kids are going to be using the bus system independently by fourteen, I need to get started on training.  

    My first thought was to find some single, repeatable destination, like a weekly karate class or something, an easy bus trip from the house.  Something I could ride with an older kid a few times, and then send him to do by himself after that.  I considered, for example, a karate class a mile and a half away that had a bus stop right in front of it.  

    When the karate instructor refused to quote me any prices unless I took my kids in for a "free demonstration class," (yeah right — like I'm going to give my kids a taste of a fun activity before I know how much it costs?)  I abandoned that  idea and was looking for a new one when I realized that I could go about it very differently.  

    It turns out that two of the north-south bus routes that pass near our house are "part of the high-frequency network," meaning that the buses come every ten to fifteen minutes all day long.  They're simple, straight routes along one major street.  They pass many interesting destinations.  The distance along the routes are easy to navigate because Minneapolis has numbered streets.   And it occurred to me that I could simply work, as a first skill, on riding up and down one or both of these two routes.

    So Saturday we set out for the bus stop, a half-mile walk, with the intention of going to the downtown Target store to buy school supplies.  My son carried his backpack to lug the things home.  We waited a few minutes, boarded the bus (another bonus:  only one route stops there — no getting on the wrong bus by accident), asked for transfers for the return trip, and trundled into downtown.  Once there, we had a drink in the Target snack shop while we spread the bus schedule out on the counter and practiced figuring out the time tables.  When I was satisfied that he could work out how long the trip home would be, when the bus would arrive at the nearest corner, and which buses he shouldn't take, we folded up the map and went shopping.

    Outside the store we transferred our stuff into his backpack, and a couple things into my purse, and then we walked towards the center of downtown.  I was thinking I might show him the place in the middle where all the transfers happen.  But we got tired and thirsty and decided to ride back out, past our house, and get a snack.  We used our transfers to get on the return bus.

    On the way out there was a minor altercation:  a woman was playing a radio, a second woman yelled at her to turn it off, a man yelled "Don't yell in my ear."  The second woman complained loudly about drivers who didn't enforce the rules.  We thought the trouble was over when she got off the bus in a huff at the next stop, but then the driver pulled over to the side of the road and sat there for ten minutes while people got increasingly nervous about missing their connections.  It transpired that the complaining woman had called the police, and that this required the driver to pull over until he was authorized to continue, which did not particularly enthrall our fellow riders.  (The consensus was that if she was going to call the police, she shouldn't have got off the bus and left the rest of us to deal with the consequences.)  Eventually the driver got going again.  

    A learning experience.  We stayed on the bus, things calmed down around us, and we went on our way.

    I got us off at a little strip mall with a coffee shop in it — my son loves coffee shops — and we went in and had chai while I checked my email and he read the neighborhood notice board.  Then we went back out, crossed the street, and waited for the return bus.   It was a few minutes late so we had to wait a whole fifteen minutes (another learning experience) and by that time our transfers had expired (thanks a lot, cop-calling bus lady) so we had to pay another fare (learning experience).   

    This time I sent my son in front to pay his fare and ask for transfers and a schedule by himself.   He also had to figure out where to get off.  He pulled the cord all right at the right time but sat politely in his seat until the bus had stopped, and so by the time he got to the door there were already people coming in and we had to excuse ourselves to get past.  I explained as we headed down the street that, yes, ordinarily it is good to stay in your seat in a moving vehicle, but on the city bus they expect you to be right by the door and ready to get off before the bus stops moving.

    A fun and purposeful outing for both of us.  He definitely needs a lot more practice, and the next time he needs the responsibility of reading the schedule and making all the decisions.  But sooner than I think he'll be ready to ride.


  • If you’re wondering where I am: I really hope it’s “sleeping in.”

    I would just like to state for the record — and maybe it is a record around here — that "bedtime routine" lasted FOUR AND A HALF HOURS.

    It is one-ten AM. I just got the baby to sleep about three minutes ago. At twelve-thirty-nine AM I was contemplating shooting webcam video of the scene of two children wrestling on my bed while an older one knocked on the door moaning that he could not get to sleep, and then possibly texting the video to my spouse, who usually does Bedtime Routine, more efficiently than I do, I might add, and I might have done it too except that our phone conversation from much earlier in the evening hinted that he probably had had a worse day than I did. At least my day didn't involve poorly secured equipment falling on people's heads.*

    All this is to say that I just might have to start my weekend a day early. I may even turn the computer off and read a book or something. If I can get them all into the attic, with my back against the door (chill out, they'll be fine, that's where we keep the Wii) I could probably get through a chapter or two at a time without anyone losing a limb.

    _____________

    n.b. The aforementioned spouse was not responsible for securing the aforementioned equipment, nor was his head among the aforementioned heads. THIS TIME, she typed dramatically.


  • More of other people’s writing: WYD edition.

    Great post from World Youth Day by Marc at BadCatholic.

    A group of Mexican girls, here for World Youth Day, walked in and prayed with us, asking us afterwards whether we were discerning the priesthood. Assumedly, singing is a sure sign of future celibacy. Now I, in response, wished to say, "Maybe, but I am in love with a girl right now." But that's a hard sentence to form, and I speak the least Spanish of my friends. So I decided to dumb it down and tell the girls, in some what of a joke, "No, I like girls." So, rifling through my limited vocabulary, I came up with the foolproof sentence: "No, me gusta chicas." I was perturbed to notice, immediately after delivering my impeccable linguistic one-liner, a shocked and holding-back-laughter expression take hold of each of the girls. What my Spanish-speaking friend Nick immediately explained to me, and to them, was that "me gusta chicas" basically means, at least to these Mexican girls, "I find girls sexually pleasing." So re-imagine their devout question.

    "Are you considering being priests?"
    (I, full of confidence) "No, you girls are too hot."

    Oh well. 

    The rest of the post, entitled, "How to Speak Catholic," describes two more surprising encounters with language barriers.  Read it all.

    I will be kicking myself for the rest of my life that I didn't make it to any World Youth Days while I was, even on a technicality, a youth.


  • Vocation story.

    I'm continuing under a bout of blogger's block, so let's try paying forward a bit.

    I've been following a fascinating blog for the last few weeks, even though I know it's coming to an end on August 28th.  On that date, Meris Chaumont is scheduled to enter the Ann Arbor convent of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist.  She's been blogging the last few months on the outside:

    • as she scrapes together her Nun Wishlist (including items like "Beige Twin Bedspread w/Fringe, Not Quilted and Not a Comforter"), 
    • road-trips to visit friends
    • searches for "nun shoes" 
    • stitches "Sr. Meris" labels into her clothing with hot-pink thread
    • models her brand-new mom-stitched navy blue vests over a zebra-print tank top
    • enjoys the Nun Shower thrown for her by family and friends, complete with the traditional game of "make a Dominican habit out of toilet paper"

    Oh yes, and asks for help.

    This video has been making the rounds, but I thought I'd repost it and do my part:

    Meris Chaumont, like many young men and women who aspire to religious life, has to take care of her undergraduate college debt before she can enter.  She and the other sisters entering with her (Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, located in Ann Arbor, Michigan) are encouraged to beg for the money.  She enters August 28th.  

    Youtube and Paypal, it seems, are the modern-day begging bowl.

    If you feel moved to send Meris some help, but by the time you get around to it she's reached her goal — which looks promising — perhaps you can help out some of her new sisters-to-be.

    Img_3138 (photo grabbed from Meris Wants to Be a Nun)

    They're selling rosaries and T-shirts to raise money to discharge their outstanding debts.

    Anyway, even if donating isn't your bag, check out Meris Wants to Be a Nun and read her blog.  It's fun and interesting and hopeful — and there isn't very much of it, and there won't be any more after August 28th. 


  • Writer’s block: a little self-examination.

    I've been experiencing a profound lack of blog-worthy thoughts lately (have you noticed?), and not much motivation to sit down.

    Coincidentally, it occurred to me this morning that this has been going on for roughly as long as we have been on [/fingerquotes] summer vacation [/fingerquotes].

    In other words, I don't have so much that I have to do.  I have free time.  

    Consequently, I'm wandering around the house wondering if I feel like unloading the dishwasher again* while the kids ride bikes or play video games or dig in the sandbox, and just as consequently, I don't feel like blogging much.

    I have no doubt that the minute school starts and I suddenly have a zillion things I'd better get done, I will think of things that I really must blog right now.

    Clearly I am inspired by the need to avoid doing USEFUL work.

    _____

    *Yes, I would really love to sink into a good book.   There are many around here I could choose from, including quite a few that are new to me.  Unfortunately, I live under two conditions that make that impossible right now:

    1. I suffer from a disorder that causes the rest of the world to disappear when I am reading anything even remotely interesting that is printed on paper.  Children could be bleeding and screaming "Help!" and I would be, like, "Whuh?  Leave me alone."  Scratch that, I wouldn't even be, like, "Whuh."  I would not hear them.  When I was in college I referred to this as a "skill" rather than as a "disorder" but now that I have children I have reclassified it.
    2. I have an eighteen-month-old.

    I'm seriously not kidding about #1, and because the aforementioned toddler of #2 is running around learning how to pick locks and scale walls and inhale uncut grapes, I cannot settle down and read a real book unless he's sleeping or somebody else is in charge.

    And now you see the results of this:  My footnote is longer than the blog post containing it.  Maybe I would have had a lucrative career in academia after all.


  • Remember that homeschool-room show and tell….

    …that I said I wanted to see, but didn't want to set up?

    Well, Dorian Speed of  Scrutinies and Convolare Design  stepped up and got it going for me on Flickr.  And thanks to her prodding, the pot has been sweetened (note to self:  send Dorian money) and there's a prize!

    Here's the goods, as posted by the fabulous Ms. Speed and slightly adapted by me for posting here:

    Okay, homeschoolers, let’s rally to the cause. Some of us may be vaguely contemplating the beginning of the school year, while others may have kept on going over the summer. Regardless, I’m sure we would all enjoy a bit of creative inspiration when it comes to organizing our school areas. Whether it be a dedicated schoolroom, a bookshelf, or a really cramped minivan, we  would like to see how you’ve set up your space.

    It’s a contest! Except not really! Maybe it’s just a drawing!

    To sweeten the deal, we are running a not-a-contest drawing. We’re going to fill a Flickr photo pool with your submissions, and randomly choose one photograph on Monday, August 22. The winner will receive a $20 Amazon gift certificate.

    The Rules:

    The general theme is “Schoolrooms, or how our existing rooms accommodate schooling.”  Examples would include:

    •  storage solutions for small spaces
    • solutions for multiple children (do they all work together or do they need separate spaces?)
    • ways that an area can multi-task, e.g. a table serving both for dining table and schooling table
    • if you have a dedicated schoolroom, just photos of how it is laid out
    • how you’ve chosen to arrange decor and interior design given that your home is also a school
    • any sort of functionality you’ve come up with that works really well and is worth sharing (or works not so well and you want to crowdsource)
    • furniture hacks
    • underground lairs, if any

    Deadline is 11:59 PM Central Standard Time on Sunday, August 21.

    It doesn’t have to be a recent photo. 

    You may enter as many photos as you’d like, but each photo should be of a different aspect of your homeschooling setup – so, don’t post three photos of the same shelf taken from different angles.

    If we can get at least 25 different contributors and at least 100 photos in the pool, I’ll dip into my Secret Prize Fund and add another $10 onto the value of the gift certificate. 

    How to Enter:

    If you’re already using Flickr, you can click here and add photos. I am moderating all submissions, so they won’t immediately show up as being added to the photo pool. If it’s been more than 24 hours since you added a photo to the pool and you’re still not seeing it, shoot me an email.

    If you’re not on Flickr, you can send DORIAN an email: dorianspeed AT gmail.com with photos attached. Please use “homeschool photo” in the subject line.

     

    Feel free to post questions here in the comments as well.  

    And bother other people about it too.

    Because the second half of August is EXACTLY the right time to be entering homeschool room competitions.

    (Go on.  Run off to Office Max first.  We'll be waiting.)

     


  • One paragraph.

    More Simcha:

    The Church, every time, demands closeness.  It insists that babies be conceived in their mother’s womb, with the father as close as a man can be—not prodded into existence with a needle in a petri dish.  Sex should be enjoyed without physical barriers, or the barren dead ends of vasectomies or tubal ligations.  Even confession, like all the sacraments, must be in person, and not done by distance, over the phone or internet.  The Church concerns herself with the most intimate things, because this is how we are made:  with hands and skin, with voices and breath, and with blood.

    The post is about abortion; this paragraph is about more than that.



  • Everything I remember from fourth-grade Ohio history.

    MrsDarwin mentions having to get the Ohio state history requirements in:

    The oldest two are heading into 3rd and 4th this year, and since it works well to have them do things in unison we're leaning towards putting them through two years of US history and kids literature (with enough Ohio specific side-lights to say that we met the state education requirements)…

    Although the whole Darwin family is recently transplanted from Texas, MrsD also grew up in Ohio, I think, but just in case I thought I'd help her out.

    Everything I Remember From Fourth-Grade Ohio History

    1. The glaciers stopped partway across. That is why southern Ohio is so hilly and interesting, while northern Ohio is so flat and boring.

    2. The boundary of the glacier-scoured area is called a "moraine." 

    3. Many trilobite fossils can be found in Ohio, possibly more than in any other part of the world.

    (Fun fact: once while hiking in Red Rock Canyon outside of Las Vegas I met an upper-level college geology class from the University of Dayton, who were presumably having a field trip to somewhere less flat, even though comparatively lacking in trilobites. By casually dropping the above information in conversation, I managed to be mistaken for a geologist.)

    4. First there were the Mound Builders. They built mounds. The most famous mound is the Serpent Mound. They were a peaceful people, i.e.., they were already gone by the time white settlers got to Ohio.

    5. Then there were the Miami people. They were very interesting. They were not already gone when white settlers came to Ohio. They gave Ohio its name.

    6. The first capital of Ohio wasn't Columbus, but Chillicothe.   There's some story about how it got changed but I forget it.

    7. Ohio was an important destination along the Underground Railroad. Some houses had secret rooms for hiding fugitives. Maybe even YOUR house!!!!!  That would be SO COOL.  Or at least that's how I remember it from being nine years old.  

    8.  Ahem.

     A comparison of the contributions of North Carolina ("First in Flight") and Ohio ("The Buckeye State") to powered flight:

     Ohio:

    • Orville
    • Wilbur

    North Carolina:

    • Wind
    • Sand

    9. Ohio is nicknamed "Birthplace of Presidents" because a bunch of U. S. presidents were born in Ohio, including William Henry Harrison (He died in thirty days).

    10. Also the electric automobile starter. You know that crank sticking out of the front of your car that sometimes kicks back and breaks your arm? No? WELL, then. Did North Carolina have anything to do with that? I think not.