Daft Musings

We moved on to studying ancient Greece, and one of my first activities for Neil was learning Greek roots. On the first day, Neil asked me if “acro-” was the prefix for high, what was the prefix for low? I had no idea, and the list I had (in a simple kids’ activity book on ancient Greece) was limited, and the Greek and Latin roots flash cards I’d bought last summer had gone missing. But conveniently we have some Greek-speaking neighbors across the street.

As it turned out, finding the ancient Greek prefix for “low” was harder than you might think. The modern Greek word for low is “hamilo” which didn’t correspond to anything. Eventually, we discovered that it was “tapeinos” as in tapeinocephaly, having a low skull or a low brow. In modern Greek, this word only means “humble.”

But we’d gotten started on Greek roots, so I set Neil up with a challenge: come up with 10 words that combine Greek roots, like acropolis, arachnophobia, hellenomaniac, and make sure they are words in the English language. Then we’d go across the street and see if we could stump the Greeks, with the theoretically Greek words. Here’s Neil’s list. I put the definitions lower down, so you can quiz yourself simply by not scrolling down below word 10:

1. technography

2. necrophobia

3. neuralgia

4. hemotogenesis

5. hematoma

6. dendrometer

7. heliophobic

8. zoogenous

9. osteoporosis

10. hemophiliac

Here are the answers:

1. Study and description of the arts and sciences

2. fear of the dead

3. pain along the nerves

4. the formation of blood

5. a subcutaneous swelling filled with blood

6. a device for measuring tree growth

7. afraid of the sun

8. originating in or produced by animals

9. having holes in your bones

10. someone who wants blood; used to descibe someone who has blood that won’t clot, so he loses a lot of blood

So did we stump the Greeks? We almost completely stumped Marcella, the modern Greek who still speaks Greek with friends and relatives. Our Greek root words aren’t in general use in Greece (to be fair, they’re not really that generally used in English either.) She charmingly defined necrophobia as being afraid of the dead guy.

Her husband Gus, an American who speaks Greek, did considerably better, but he still only got 6 out of 10. He missed technography (who to be fair, isn’t exactly what the roots would imply it is), dendrometer, zoogenous, and osteoporosis (he thought we were saying osteopyrosis, which sounds like fire in the bones.)

Marcella gave me a basket of figs, which seems like the perfect prize for stumping the Greeks. And Neil learned more about Greek roots than I imagine he might have in a more formal setting.

Since the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum is in San Jose, we happen to visit it just about every year. But this was the first year we went there after a course of study on ancient Egypt. Needless to say, we noticed and absorbed more than we had on other visits. For one thing, after taking the tomb tour, Neil and I quizzed our poor guide until she fled. But in the process, we found out that the museum, which (though owned by the Rosicrucians) is run as an educational venture, is largely (if not wholly) staffed by real Egyptologists. On staff the same day we were there was an expert in predynastic Egypt, one if Ptomolomaic Egypt, and one on Coptic Egypt (who even spoke Coptic, which is only used for certain rites in the Coptic church.)

On the other hand, it was interesting to finally be able to notice how the museum differs, ever so slightly, from typical texts on ancient Egyptian history. It isn’t organized by time periods (which is how I prefered to teach it), but rather on themes of ancient Egypt, such as Religion and the Afterlife, Pharaoh Akhenaten and his reforms towards monotheism, and relations with Babylonia/Assyria. From our texts, Neil had one take on Egyptian history, such as King Tutankhamen was poisoned by his sinister vizier Ay, but our guide had information that implied Tutankhamen was killed in a chariot accident, whether accidental or deliberate we don’t know (but we can guess!). It was also only clear at the museum that ancient Egypt was almost certainly richer, at least in consumables, than Sumeria, because a lot of Mesopotamian artifacts have been found in Egyptian digs, but not so much Egyptian stuff near the Euphrates river: this (at least according to the museum) implies Sumerians were sending their goods to Egypt in exchange for Egypt’s grains.

But my favorite part of the museum is their Coptic artifacts. I was actually surprised to find the Coptic (early medieval Christian) period almost ignored in most texts on ancient Egypt, but the Egyptian Museum seems to give the Coptic period as much weight as the Ptolomaic period. And if you consider a Rosicrucian point of view, it makes sense. After all, both period are ancient-Egyptian-derivative: no Egyptians were in charge any more, but the rules, Greek and Roman, kind of had a (scuse the irony) “when in Rome” sort of mindset. Here’s one example I took particular note of:

The jackal-headed god Anubis was in charge of bringing the mummified dead to the afterlife as shown in the picture above. Though the Romans officially had their own set of gods, the Romans living in Egypt thought it was prudent to play it safe, like this Roman guy who had Anubis engraved on his (?) headstone:

Just recently, the museum started selling “passports” for children, so they can go through the galleries in sort of a scavenger-hunt sort of way. I bought the passports (only $3.75 each) for Neil and Kelly, and they both loved stamping them in each gallery. The passports also came with pencils, so the children could take note (or draw pictures) of things they noted in each gallery, and a little blue flashlight which allowed them to read “secret messages” of information secreted in various places. I still think it wasn’t lowbrow enough for some children (who wouldn’t want to read the whole two sentences of text) but it was a lot of fun for Neil and Kelly.

Before and after we saw the museum, we walked through Rosicrucian Park, which is a worthwhile tourist attraction all on its own. It has faux-Egyptian buildings done up in an art-deco sort of way:

plus the secret-looking temple. At the Tapestry of Arts, the not-so-secret secret Rosicrucians invited us to visit their library, but it was closed this weekend, since the Rosicrucians were busy being not so secret at the Tapestry of Arts festival downtown. Someday, though, we may just take them up on their offer. because it’s cool to find out more about our local secret society.

Neil and Kelly posed Egyptian style in front of one of the sphinxes, though I’m not sure it came out all that Egyptian-looking:

But maybe someday in the far future someone will find that digitized picture and ponder how the mysteries of Egypt influenced the people of the 21st century. That mystery established, we went to visit Peter in his office downtown and have some coffee with him.

On Saturday morning, Peter took us all to see the Tapestry of Arts festival which had appeared overnight on the streets of downtown San Jose. The last time we went to see it was 11 years ago when I was pregnant with Neil, and I remember it being big, but also awfully hot. In short, it’s like a slightly larger version of the North Beach Fair. It closes down some streets near the center of town, features many original artisans, lots of food booths, and performance stages at the end of each lane of booths. Unlike the North Beach Fair, it doesn’t have a “beer garden” park with a headline performer; on the other hand, there were several booths set aside with free craft projects for children, and information on local theatre groups including two just steps away from Peter’s office, and conveniently putting on a modern adaptation of a Greek play this fall (as Neil studies ancient Greece) and an intriguing radio play style performance of Hamlet next spring. Furthermore, Parkside Hall housed booths that couldn’t be outdoors overnight during the show, so it was a smaller version of the “weird inventions” exhibit halls at the Sacramento Street Fair.

Since we went there early, it was still fairly quiet: the more well-known performers were scheduled to come on in the early evening. Peter was most impressed by the huge horse that had appeared in front of The Tech overnight, but I told him it was probably just a coincedence.

The horse is actually to promote the upcoming Leonardo da Vinci exhibit from Italy. A few booths were particularly notable. One artist had created a new type of kaleidoscope with mirrors: you could insert an (interchageble) pretty timeglass type device to create the dazzling kaledoscopic display, or just aim it at your surroundings to turn them into a kaledoscopic vision. It was definitely cool art.

The Rosicrucians were there, and we all had a good laugh when I told them Neil had come to me, having read that they were a secret society–and wasn’t it amazing they were in our town? The Rosicrucians are, like, the most non-secret secret society there is. I think they have the rep because they study “secrets”–like ancient mysteries and metaphysical wonders, and try to connect them all together. But if you want to join them, all you have to do is fill out a simple form and pay your dues, which include the loan for their “secret” materials. Once in a while (well, last year at least), they open their roundtable discussions to visitors, and Rosicrucian Park in San Jose, which includes their Egyptian Museum, is a popular tourist destination. Since Neil had just finished learning about ancient Egypt, the Egyptian Museum was a planned field trip for us anyway, and he recreated his name in hieroglypics at a special Egyptian Museum table the Rosicrucians had set up.

Peter is still heart-broken that his favorite artisan which created science fiction movie figurines with nuts and bolts moved to Taiwan, even though copy cat artisans have popped up. At the Tapestry of Arts festival, he found an artisan who made just such things, including a Wall-E, but it wasn’t of the same quality that Peter had been used to.

And yes, it was hot, as it always is in San Jose around Labor Day. So after Kelly had picked up the requistive amount of swag including art she’d made, necklaces, and candy, we stopped back into the office and then went home.

For Kelly’s last summer day before she had to officially step into school, I took her to the beach. I let her choose the beach, because while my favorite is the relatively quiet New Brighton Beach, I though Kelly might have her own preferences at this point. And she did.

She asked me to take her to Seacliff Beach which has a nature center with a touchtank, and a decrepit cement boat at the end of the pier. I think Seacliff often smells funny, perhaps because of the decaying ship or because of all the birds on it, but it’s a general favorite for all it offers, which besides the nature center and a pier, also has a snack shack and beachside parking.

It was a great day for the beach. The fog burned off just as we arrived. Kelly loved seeing and talking to all the seastars and anemones, as well as Charlie, the young shark who’s outgrown his tank and being sent off to the Aquarium of the Bay next month.

It wasn’t too hot or too cold, and Kelly worked on a sand project, which included collecting driftwood and feathers.

To my horror, she also seemed inclined towards surfing because she willingly let herself be sucked out with the waves and bodysurfed them in. I can’t tell how well she’d do because I kept a firm grip on her arms the entire time. I had thought about getting Neil a skimboard or a boogieboard so he could enjoy the beach too (as it is he opted to do schoolwork at Peter’s office instead), but I have to think Kelly would take the board from Neil before Neil had a chance to try it…

The new bathing suit she got at the end of the season last year has already been worn out, so she put on a unitard, which I thought might prevent her from being too sandy. But it was even better than a regular bathing suit at keeping sand in, and it didn’t help that Kelly liked doing headstands on top of her sandcastles.

She visited the seastars again twice while we were at the beach, and wished them a poignant goodbye as we saw them last just before leaving. And so our summer ended.

Peter took a day off work so we could visit the California State Fair on Thursday. It’s one of our regular summer highlights, a fair that celebrates all things Californian in such a big and spectacular way (and changes up its entertainment every day) that it’s impossible to take it all in.

This year’s theme was Hollywood, and this year we took in fewer of the exhibits, wine tasting, and animals, and saw more shows. But I get ahead of myself. The first thing I had to do when I arrived at the State Fair was try fried frog legs.

For whatever reason, the state fair has several food booths where you can experience food you’ll never find elsewhere. And for whatever reason, it’s become an opportunity for me to have the I-can’t-believe-I-ate-something-that-gross experience once a year. Last year, I had fried avocado, tomatoes, and a fried Oreo cookie. This year, I ate frog legs (stringy chicken with a fishy aftertaste), a fried Twinkie with chocolate on top, and in response to Peter’s dare, a fried White Castle burger. Do I even need to mention that I had no appetite for the rest of the day?

As usual, we had to check out the weird stuff for sale halls. Peter and I had our rings polished up by duelling ring cleaners, each of which was able to get our rings cleaner than the one before had done. Neil invested $25 in a curving road track he’s been admiring for years (and the seller knew it.) Peter teased a shoe cleaning system seller to get the paint off his $9 Wal-Mart shoes. Well, it just figures that the man managed to do it and polish up my ragged shoes and Kelly’s well-worn ones as well. Peter ended up spending $30 for the cleaners, even though it cost more than our shoes ever will.

In the special Hollywood exhibit, we saw–well, actually participated in, a great show put on by a sound fx artist. As the designated beach girl, I provided the sound of surf…next to a maniac using a rubber chicken to produce the sounds of a tortured seagull. Afterwards, famous director Otto Focus gave me a card promising to put me in his next movie, but I had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t completely sincere. But we did get some quality kazoos and a slide whistle, so we may have a future behind the scenes…

Back by the competition exhibits, we caught a great show put on by some Chinese Acrobats, and the hypnotist we’d seen the year before, but who’s always amusing. He invited the state fair audience to see his night time show nearby, which he said was racier–but his “family” show was pretty racy to begin with! Among other things, he always hypnotizes a pretty girl into giving him a passionate kiss when she hears his verbal cue.

In the schedule I noticed the Cavalcade of Horses was having a special “Hollywood” show that promised to include Darth Vadar, the Matrix, and Iron Man on “dancing” horses. It turned out to be pretty corny: intermediate level vaulting with the vaulters coming down and doing a bad pantomime off horse, and dressed up dressage. On the other hand, I don’t think there’s any other place in the universe you’d be able to see Darth Vader and Iron Man in combat dressage, like ever. (Iron Man “won” BTW).

We had to see the Counties exhibit, too, though Solano County, the usual winner of the displays competition, seemed out of sorts to have lost to Sacramento County. But then, Solano County had decided to spotlight the movies that had been filmed in it (the best of which was “Howard the Duck”) while Sacramento had recreated its entire county in paper sculpture. Understandably, Los Angeles County had the Hollywood theme sewed up, but I was confused when I first saw two cardboard cutouts of Lou Ferrigno standing in the booth, one in the Hulk make-up and one in what I thought was a policeman costume. Heck, I thought, I run into Lou Ferrigno at every comic book show: so why did Los Angeles just put up Ferrigno in paper form? But it actually turns out that when he’s not acting, Lou Ferrigno is a Los Angeles police officer. Oh. So don’t get on his bad side, because he can throw you in jail, both physically and legally.

Most nights, the fair has a headline performer, and this night it was Air Supply, the soft rock band. They have a lot of fans, and we happened to be walking along the ramp behind the stage as they played their encore song “All Out of Love,” and it stuck in my head for the rest of the night. Kelly twirled to it (she’s a classic rock fan), until Peter dragged us away.

He managed to get into the special Hollywood exhibit by the competition section just before the fair closed. I spotted a booth with awful cheesy sci-fi movies and hoped dearly that Peter wouldn’t see them. But he did. He was delighted to meet the maker of Hardware Wars, Ernie Fosselius, in person, and to his credit, Fosselius even charmed my children with some of the silly puns from the movie. Peter snatched up Hardware Wars on DVD, which I think of as what Star Wars would have looked like if it had been produced by the BBC. And then…Peter met Mr. Lobo, a late night bad-movie-show TV host. Mr. Lobo sold Peter his broadcast of Starcrash, a truly bad incredibly low-budget science fiction movie with David Hasselhoff in one of his first roles. Mr. Lobo’s imaginative, no-budget intersticial story (included) had a better plot and character development.

The fair supposedly closed at 10, but Peter stayed in hobnobbing with Ernie Fosselius and Mr. Lobo, and buying movie memoribilia for another 1/2 hour. And when we left, we walked through the midway, which was bustling with activity. It was exhausting, and a long day, and both Kelly and I managed to sleep sitting up while Peter drove home. It’s just too bad the State Fair is 2-1/2 hours away, or we’d probably be visiting it more frequently (and pacing ourselves better) over its 3-week run.

Until last Wednesday, my children had never seen a circus. But when I had an opportunity to buy them preview night tickets for $15 apiece, I bought three: one for each child and one for the accompanying adult. Both Peter and I had low expectations, I have to say. Neither of us had been to a circus other than Cirque du Soleil in 30 years, and our childhood memories of circuses weren’t fond ones. I faintly remember stinky animals, lots of overpriced souvenir kiosks, and vaulting. It didn’t help that a few years ago, I took the children to our first (and likely, last) ice show ever, the truly dire Finding Nemo on Ice, which couldn’t even be bothered to license music from the movie, and played really moldy 60s music instead. And the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus just happened to take place in the HP Pavilion, where we’d seen the awful ice show.

As it turns out, Ringling Brothers have completely modernized their show, and it was so great and so spectacular that after Peter saw it on Wednesday, he turned around and bought tickets so I could see it, and he and the children could enjoy it again.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the modern American circus has been heavily influenced by the success of Cirque du Soleil. There were far more dramatically costumed acrobatic acts than I remember, and some of them were not only spectacular, but also breathtaking, like the acrobat who walked backwards and forwards along the ceiling. There were considerably less animal acts, though there were still elephants, horses, and tigers. But all the other animals were small, and except for one porcupine, strictly domestic like some goats, dogs, and miniature horses.

Most of all, the thing that impressed me about the circus was how it managed to make Cirque du Soleil look overpriced and pretentious. Matinee tickets to most shows could be had for $15 or $20, and for that we got all that Cirque du Soleil offers, including live music. There were clowns that were always on and funny, Cossacks doing death-defying stunts on horses (in Russian!), all sorts of acrobats including a funny act, audience participation, and a unifying story about a mischievious clown stealing the singing ringmaster’s hat and putting on his own (lame) show, while also defying San Jose’s bubble-free-zone laws, and going on simultaneously that it was impossible to catch all of the acts all of the time. The whole thing started out with the pledge of allegiance said while a pretty girl paraded the flag around while riding an elephant. Could you ever imagine that at a Cirque du Soleil show? Mais non!

Outside the arena, some animal rights activists were protesting the circus’ use and treatment of elephants, but they had an awfully hard time making their case. The animals in the show looked happier and better cared for than animals, say, at the zoo, and Neil could even swear one of the elephants was smiling as he (independently, without a cue) bopped along to the music. In contrast, some of the activists looked somewhat deranged, and we were careful to step around them.

We had a terrific time, and I was surprised that the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey show was so good I could have enjoyed without having to have children along. We’ll certainly be back to see it again next year.

In May, I wrote about my neighbors, who despite having low-end blue-collar jobs, had managed to pay $869,000 for the gorgeous house across the street. As it turned out, they didn’t pay at all, because they’d been given a loan with no money down and no questions asked by the underwriting genius I dubbed Happy Happy Lenderman. It was no surprise to anyone, except maybe Happy Happy Lenderman, when they stopped making payments, any payments at all, on the house a few months after moving in. It was a surprise to me, however, that the bank seemed to be perfectly happy in letting them stay on indefinitely, for free, while not making much effort into trying to get the house sold. It’s highly unlikely they ever paid the property tax, or for the garbage, both of which are mandatory and continue, but are applied as a lien, if not paid.

Finally, however, in early August, they did move, though it took five police officers to convince them they really did have to evacuate the house. The bank also gave them another $1700, just cuz maybe they felt they hadn’t lost enough money on the bad loan or something. In the move-out process we saw them take some uprooted trees from the back, and the washer and dryer. A new realtor took over to sell the property, since the former realtor had been handling the sale as a “short sale” and this was a true foreclosure.

So last weekend, the house was open for prospective buyers, and curious to see how much had been stripped, I walked over. I have to explain that when the house was sold last it had been completely renovated on the inside, including having new custom doors inside and outside, a new Jennair oven, and new carpeting and tile.

OMG, the damage deliberate neglect and heavy wear can take! Two sets of cleaners had gone through the house already, and a gardener was working on cutting down the rampaging yard, but the formerly gorgeous house looked like a real pit. The carpets, which had been beige, were heavily spotted, and the realtor said he’d already put in a request to the bank to have them replaced. The pool, which would have remained clear enough with just a regular application of chlorine, was disgustingly green. The tiles were chipped, all the appliances in the house were scratched, and everything was very worn.

There were quite a few people looking at the house, and I was happy to speak to them. I would love to have new neighbors who’d take care of the house, and actually pay for it. They noted the damage and asked how many people had lived in the house (a lot), and how much it took to take care of the pool ($50-$100 a month if you’re as anal about it as me). And some just left in disgust.

I wondered if the house would actually sell. When it had been on the market with the people who didn’t want to leave, it was priced at $700K, a bit more than similar houses were going in the soft market. But a nice couple had come along in May and offered $625K for it, and been turned down. I didn’t know until later, when I took a flyer, that this house, which had once been a showcase, was now only valued at $544, less than even a smaller fixer upper on our street (also a foreclosure) had sold for last month. That explained all the interest!

Well, it would be nice to have new solvent neighbors get an opportunity to become homeowners. But at that price, it’s certainly tempting to landlords, who could easily rent it out for more than the mortgage costs, or a flipper (who’d just have to but some elbow grease and cosmetic upgrades) into it. We tried to conspire with the neighbors to snatch it up, but I think the smart buyers are already bidding on it.

So we’ll see: fair is fair as far as the price goes, since the house far removed from the showcase it once was. But to have it drop so much in value: by more than 30% just because someone couldn’t be bothered to do due diligence on a loan, sucks.

Oh, and what happened to my foreclosed-upon neighbors? They simply bought another house (this one in Hollister, where houses do cost less than in San Jose) under someone else’s name.

Kelly had her kindergarten orientation this morning, while the older classes had their first day of school, and Peter and I are still ambivalent about sending her off.

There was a lot to look forward to with being at a neighborhood school instead of at the science magnet where Neil went. The school is only half a block from our home, and its as much a community draw as much as a school. Neil’s met and played with many a friend there, and we were particularly thrilled to find out the son of some neighborhood friends (whom we’ve known since Neil was 9 months old) was going to be in Kelly’s class. And our fellow parents all looked nervous and eager to help their child succeed.

Against that however, was the fact that we adored Neil’s kindergarten teacher, and she was at the school Kelly didn’t get into. The teacher I had requested had been reassigned to teach 3rd grade over the summer, so Kelly had someone I knew nothing about. The parents were ushered into the cafeteria to get information on the school routine and policies, and also got to meet the PTA and volunteer. Sadly, the same policies I hated at Neil’s school (no homemade treats in class, mandatory fingerprinting of volunteers) were in effect. And Peter thought the orientation was rather condescending, both in person and in print. So we have to be told to turn the TV off at dinnertime, and that we have a public library in our neighborhood? Why not remind us that children need to be fed nutritiously, have a bedtime, and that we shouldn’t beat them, too..

The other surprise was finding out how well supplied the neighborhood school was in contract to Neil’s magnet school. Every year, we had a long list of supplies that needed to be brought in; here, Kelly would have what she needed, though it wouldn’t hurt to give her an extra glue stick or two during the year to have on hand. At the magnet school, most field trips required parents to volunteer their time, vehicle and gasoline; here, there’d be a bus, though volunteer chaperones would likely have to follow the bus in their own car.

It’ll be good for Kelly to have peers to play and work with, since even among the homeschoolers she hasn’t made any fast friends. On the other hand, I’ve had so much success schooling her, as casually as I do, that I worry how well she’ll fit in. On our walk home, she was unusually crabby when we asked her what she’d done, and though she happily talked about her “circle time” later, I hope school doesn’t have a detrimental effect on her.

Nevertheless, I called the district to see if her place on the waitlist had changed considerably: she’s still 47th in line, which most likely means there’s no chance she’ll get into the magnet, much less get Neil’s wonderful kindergarten teacher.

The Santa Clara Valley used to be known as Valley of the Heart’s Delight for its great farmland and rich orchards. They’ve pretty much been taking over by business and housing, but when summer time comes, I look forward to August, because that’s the time of year my neighbors come knocking on my door carrying bags of peaches, plums, nectarines and other goodies their trees produced too much for them to be able to consume.

Besides the overflow of stone fruits from random neighbors, I also enjoyed the bounty of my neighbor’s garden. Her lemon trees were unstoppable, and we constantly had lemonade. I also got oregano, dill, apples, and tomatoes from her, and she was so delighted I hadn’t killed her plants, that when she returned she gave me canned pears and applesauce as well. From Kelly’s homeschooling park day group, I received free cucumbers, tomatoes and apples. My own garden isn’t as generous, except in two plants, which seem to love my oddball care: jalapeno peppers and pumpkins, both of which I’ll soon have to pass on to my neighbors in turn.

I tell myself other people probably have their neighbors handing them bagfulls of peaches every year, too. But I like to imagine my valley is special, and that I’m especially lucky because of it.

When I started hanging out with homeschoolers last summer, I wondered openly why so many of them took their family vacations during the summer time, when everyone else in the universe does. Travelling in the summer means having to pay top dollar, face crowded attractions, and compete for lodging: so if you’re not bound to a district’s schedule, why do so? I knew once I was homeschooling, our school would run through summer, and we’d have our big break in early Fall, especially since the Comic-Con pretty much dominates Peter’s summer schedule, and he’d often not psychologically free for vacation until late August–exactly when the district school year begins.

I realized many of the homeschoolers I associated with were doing their program via a public or charter school, where their child could be in school sports, or sign up for small classes. And others needed to work with the schedule of other family members, who might be off from college for the summer, or who might work for a business, educational or otherwise, that had a summer break. But that didn’t explain everyone.

And this summer, I discovered why: even though it makes sense to have school during summer, it’s hard exactly because everyone else in the universe isn’t, and so many special events and attractions are set up during the summer time for just that reason.

It hadn’t made so much sense last summer, because frankly, the friends Neil had made during fourth grade had developed a serious case of over-schedulitis. I tried, time after time, to have his friends come over for playtime, and yet, their parents rebuffed me over and over. So hanging out with the homeschoolers made up for it, though even they made only rare appearances in the summer.

This year, he had some different friends with less insane schedules, and Neil was able to hang out with them the way friends do when they’re not signed up for infinity camps, trips, and clubs. Plus, his boy scout program required him to do some daily calisthenics for a month, so during most of June, we were walking over to the local school (which had a chin-up bar and was conveniently 1/4 mile away for testing running speed). That had the effect of having Neil run into many of his neighborhood peers, including one boy whose brother was one of the nicer boys in Neil’s former Webelos troop. They’ve started hanging out regularly for a round of Rock Band followed by pool play, and what could make for a better summer than that? And on top of that, even with my aversion to driving with such high gas prices, there was the irresistible fun of downtown San Jose, farmer’s markets, summer movies, free concerts, and the state fair.

As a result, the rigorous plan I had for schooling was pared down. Right now, Neil only has 4 or 5 subjects a day (math, literature, history, science, handwriting) so he’s done by early afternoon. And even then, that’s only 4 days a week and we had a big four week break, around Neil’s boy scout camp, Comic-Con, and the usual chaos of regrouping complete with my birthday celebration in the midst of all that.

Kelly starts kindergarten next week, and after the expected confusion that will make of our schedules, Neil will go back to full schooling, and add German, spelling, fine arts study, and logic to his curriculum. But we’re still having our big month-long family vacation in October, not summer. And I have to wonder if next summer I’ll allot Neil and Kelly even more free time than I did this year.