I saw my first Monet painting with Richard and Mark. We visited the British Landscapes exhibit at the Utah Museum of Fine Art. (All images are from their website.) At one point during the exhibit, Mark asked if he should stop saying, “Wow!” all of the time. “No,” I replied. “This is why I brought you to the museum with me.”
This is my 13th year of home schooling. I only have one student now, but that has its own challenges. It’s harder to be fun with just one kid. I’m 13 years older, too. When we finish our subjects and tasks, I’m am usually out the door or in the kitchen doing something for Relief Society. Driving the older boys to and from school, Frisbee practice, piano lessons, and performances takes additional time. This is why I am thankful for Mark’s art teacher Renon. She supplements Mark’s education in a beautiful way. We are still waiting for Daniel’s drivers ed teacher to issue the final certificate so he can get his license. Every day of this delay is literally hours of driving for me. Here is a painting of how long this process feels like it is taking:
It was a week of music for our family. We watched Daniel play in his first bell choir concert. His current bell assignment is to play some of the big bass bells. He says playing these bells is like pouring out a full gallon of milk with each note, your wrist and forearms carefully managing the weight. In other words, they are heavy. I felt Christmas drift through the air as they played, even though these weren’t Christmas pieces. December will be a busy month for bells and they will be playing at Temple Square. I am really looking forward to that.
The boys had a piano recital. Daniel played Preludium in E minor by Felix Mendelssohn. Timothy played Little Story by Sergei Prokofieff. Mark played Etude in A minor by Dmitri Kabalevsky. (Like those names mean anything…) I know the pieces just by the tunes. I rarely learn the names and composers, but I sing along in my head to every piece, well-learned by echoes moving through the house at all hours.
I did Relief Society things. Lots of that, but the specific lessons I am learning and the heartache and loneliness that I am exposed to is part of a private journey that I am taking with some sisters. We can all be more aware of, prayerful, and helpful to others.
In general, I spoke at a Relief Society meeting, participated in a ward council meeting, and presented specific ways to involve women in decisions and discussions and how to improve in ministering to others; I also counseled with the Bishop in a private meeting. I wrote, helped set up tables, washed linens, baked, and cooked. I texted, wrote letters, and talked on the phone. I hugged people who were crying and received counsel about how to do things better. I visited a sister late one night. I listened and admired. I thought hard and made plans. I used my calligraphy skills. I drew strength from scripture study and prayer and hugs from Richard. Please don’t think I am bragging. I am painting a picture of our life. I am not unique in what I do.
On Saturday Richard and I joined my sister Sarah and her husband Bryan for dinner at Lamb’s and the symphony.
Daniel played the organ in church on Sunday. A sister on our row in church lifted her infant son dressed in a flannel shirt and I remembered Daniel at that age wearing a flannel shirt. I looked at the contrast between this infant and Daniel at the organ and marveled at the time that has passed without effort. I held that tall young man in my arms not so long ago.
We visited Paige for a few minutes on Sunday night and as always I asked to see some of her art. This was one of her doodles-in-progress, not for an art class. She is critical of it, but there is LIFE in this drawing. I had to share it.
Also, even her scrap pieces of paper with color gradations and paint mixes could be hung on the wall. I smile every time I visit the dorms because the windows and walls are more decorated each time. Twinkle lights, banners, flags representing mission calls to other countries, and little touches of homemaking are creeping into each unit.
And finally, there is Timothy, who goes to school in the dark early hours for jazz band practice. I bought him some new black shoes and black socks to wear with shorts because that’s what you wear now, at least in middle school. It looked strange at first, like they forgot to change out of their dress socks, but I’m good with it now.
Oh, and Halloween is this Saturday and Mark and I have not made any progress on his costume. Aaack!
This post might be TMI but I don’t feel like editing out pieces of our story today like I usually do.
It was a social week for us, with house guests in many corners, a science camp, an art camp, full evenings, and a family reunion. I ate a burrito from Freebirds with Richard and Nancy. Mark and I were stung by wasps and Richard and Daniel came to the rescue, vacuumed them up as they flew around their nest, and sealed up the entrance to their nest beneath our house.
My knowledge and interests have expanded over the years as I have waited in my van for kids at music lessons, school, church activities, and ballet. This week I read a lot at the University of Utah while I waited for Timothy at science camp. My van is almost the only place I could read this week. At this rate, I should finish my book by Christmas. Something I did for myself was attend the New Testament Commentary Conference at BYU on Friday afternoon to hear my friend Julie speak. I stole the photo of Julie from Facebook.
A favorite moment was with Paige and Richard when we took a drive to the Albion basin to see the wildflowers. At sunset, a bull moose emerged between the trees. Its long legs made its leisurely walk as fast as our truck as we moved along the road trying to get a blurry photo. That evening I saw flowers; Richard saw the slopes he normally visits on his skis. We wove two separate themes as we talked. “Oh, look at that shade of pink…and those purple flowers! I’m dying.” To which he replied, “I can’t believe I ski over all of those boulders!” spoken with an equal sense of wonder.
Another adventure we had was weeding and planting carrots at the Church garden. The missionary in charge of the carrots kept handing us carrots for breakfast. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, we rinsed them with our dirty hands in the sprinklers and munched as we weeded. “They taste like carrots,” Richard said. We spent two hours with our whole family, working and laughing together, so I was happy.
The kids enjoyed time with 20 cousins this week, bouncing, splashing, and running. Ours is a family with cousins in perpetual motion. In the kids’ cubbies at Spring Lake, we found notes that Grandma had encouraged the Sanchez cousins to write to one another. Here are a few:
Dear Paige, I love you.
Dear Mortiky, Hi, I’m David. I love you!
To Timothy [puppy drawing] signed DAVID
A top secret note from Hogwarts School, sealed for Mark
Dear Paige, I love you. You’re my budd
iey.Dear Daniel, I painted you a picture. You’re welcome. <3 Paige
We watched the most lingering sunset ever on Saturday night. As the late summer evening darkened, the Payson temple began to glow. Watching this heavenly Changing of the Guard in silence, the light source changing from sun to temple, fed my soul.
Paige has been gracious to let me post these.
We have a winner in the school election at our house! It will be a good thing for Timothy to serve his school next year. He is smart, dependable, and precise. He’s tall, handsome, and adventurous. His best friend returned from his year-long trip around the world, so happy days are here for Tim this summer.
Daniel took off this year in many new directions, from student government to robotics, becoming a fan of English grammar exercises and hosting the first teen parties at our house. Daniel is a good driver, a great friend, and people can count on him to get things done, even if it’s moving 2,000 pounds of Mason jars 6 times for Prom. 🙂
Mark delights me with the things he says. Sometimes brutally honest, always insightful, and very often funny, conversations with him have been a joy. He’s grown so much, his legs no longer having the soft lines of childhood, but the long bones and prominent knees of an older boy. His permanent teeth have grown in this year, and the whistle in his speech is disappearing.
We attended Paige’s senior awards night this week. She was honored for having a 4.0 cumulative GPA and received a scholarship and other awards. Because of our unconventional choice to home school, Paige needed to make up a year’s worth of high school credit if she wished to graduate. Colleges are great about accepting home school students, whether they graduate or not, but she decided to go for the diploma. She did 4 years of high school work in 3 years, 95% of the makeup work being done during her senior year. She has a summer job and is off to BYU in the fall. It’s a time of celebration for Paige this week. We are so very proud of her.
Last night we planned to take down the Boy Scout flags that were up in our neighborhood for Memorial Day, but another family did it for us! We were thankful because Timothy was busy finishing his student body officer campaign video.
We gathered for a quick family home evening lesson and I asked the family to make a list of the top ten events of the school year.
We set some summer goals after remembering all the work that has gone into the school year. We don’t want our summer to be wasted. I asked each family member to make two goals: a daily goal and a Sunday goal to work on this summer.
I read some quotes by Elder Kevin W. Pearson of the Seventy:
There is no room for average or complacent disciples. Average is the enemy of excellence, and average commitment will prevent you from enduring to the end.
Let me be clear: to “hang in there” is not a principle of the gospel. Enduring to the end means constantly coming unto Christ and being perfected in him.
I look forward to school getting out and having some new areas of focus.
When I was writing my grandmother’s history a few years ago, I learned about two of her family members who were killed in WWII. Each was an only son of immigrants from Sweden. I want to remember them today. It is sad to me that they have no descendants to think of them on Memorial Day.
Pete Johnson’s son, Noble Johnson was killed on March 17, 1945 under the Remagen Bridge in Germany. He was a welder and working underwater to repair a part of the bridge when he was killed. He left behind his parents and a sister named Helen.
The other young man was Cerie’s cousin Harvey Nelson, who came home looking just fine after being wounded in the War. He died suddenly on May 7, 1949 from a piece of shrapnel that dislodged in his body. He was the only child of Judy, the widow of Waldemar Nelson.
It’s sobering to think of their sacrifice and their families’ grief. I can’t visit their graves, but I can write about them and honor their gift.
I asked Paige to give me a copy of her AP art portfolio, so I’ll share some of it over the next few weeks. Happy Memorial Day weekend! Memorial Day always feels like a finish line to me. We made it!
Daniel and Paige played piano in public this week. Someone leaned over to me and asked what it takes to have kids play music like that in my home.
I deferred to Paige to tell the woman how long she’s studied piano, and I started thinking about “what it took” to get where we are now. My mind kept going back to the financial aspect of it as I drove away from the event in my 16-year-old van (which I love). Every month, instead of a car payment, we pay a piano teacher. Can a person learn to play piano with a less expensive teacher? Of course! But we wanted the opportunities a professional teacher could offer. We invested in a grand piano in 2007. The kids love this instrument and it is fun to play. This helps them want to practice. Can a person learn to play beautifully on an upright piano? Of course! For our family, having this piano in a music room has been a symbol of our commitment to music and this commitment has become part of our family culture. As for incentives for practicing, we don’t allow media time until the kids have practiced. That’s been a great motivator for the boys.
Besides the financial investment, there is an investment of time. By no means do I resent the money and time we have spent, but I started calculating how much time we have given for music study. Richard taught Paige for two years. I spend one afternoon a week shuttling kids to and from piano lessons. I’ve done that for 10 years. On piano lesson days, I don’t try to do anything that requires focused attention. I’ll fold laundry between lessons or do little projects around the house, but then it’s time to get in the car again. I have no idea how many hours I’ve spent driving. Piano lessons always go over time, so I wait. Waiting 20-30 minutes a week for 10 years means that I’ve spent over 200 hours sitting in the van waiting for the kids to finish piano lessons. Who knows how many hours I’ve spent waiting at ensemble rehearsals, judging events, and recitals. I read while I wait, so it’s nice. And then there is the time that I am home, monitoring practice, or making sure that it happens. I’m grateful that I am home to do this. Is our method the only way to produce great musicians? No! But every hour, every dollar, and every sacrifice is worth it “to have music like that in our home.”
I was asked to make a piece of a puzzle to represent our family. There had to be space for a 4×6 photo to be mounted in the center. I used some state die cuts to show where we have lived. I placed sepia prints of the kids in bottle caps with a clear glossy stickers over the photos to show where each child was born. What a sentimental journey.