I'm beginning to doubt that anyone is reading my blog. Not that anyone needs to, since I don't publish anything of especially great value. Besides, I'm beginning to grow accustomed to my home life. It takes six weeks to build a habit, so they say. I arrived home 12/17. Since it is now - goodness! - the first of February, it has been 46 days since I was last at PHC. Therefore, I have broken the 6-week mark.
As Carolyn commented on Christy's blog, it is not really possible to keep up with everything at school and at home both. It's a little easier for me, since I'm just here. I don't have to fragment myself like Christy is doing. Still, when Lisa told me in a wonderful, wonderful personal email that she was impressed by my "living in the moment," I had to smile. It was for a long time a survival tactic, so that I did not drown in nostalgia.
But now I am starting to enjoy my opportunities wholeheartedly. Monday night, for example, I felt just fine after a classful of running, kicking, and 300 reps of jump rope. After last night's hour and a half of Frisbee, however, my calves are seizing up as I step. It is a lovely, lovely feeling. :) And choir on Sunday was delightful. They let me sing in the morning, though I had only run through the song with them once. It was a very simple unison - duck soup after Mr. Johnson and Chorale. Then we had an hour and a half of practice in the afternoon, before which I had taken the sibs to the park for frisbee tossing in glorious, 60-degree weather.
Last evening before Ultimate, I read some more of Chesterton's
Orthodoxy in the Borders cafe and drank hot, vanilla-almond tea. After Ultimate and a shower, I memorized a bit more of the first chapter of Proverbs (I decided to memorize the whole book, with no definite time goal), and we had family Bible reading. Then I went to bed.
When I finally received my grades from last semester yesterday and opened them to find what I expected - my lowest semester GPA ever, by far, and two B-minuses - my mom patiently and lovingly talked with me for an hour and a half. My joys from last semester are my long quiet times, the dear little 2- and 3-year-olds I took care of Sunday mornings at church, the essay I wrote for the
Herald about the honor code - and learning to accept my decision to come home. Further, I learned a lot, and I wrote three stories. Thinking back, by God's grace, I cannot imagine anything I should have done differently. Therefore, my grades are perfect. And I love my mom.
This evening is a study evening, because it is one of the few days of the week I do not need to exercise. At 5:00, I will again betake myself to the Borders cafe and sip vanilla-almond (or ginger-peach) hot tea, while I finish a fascinating collection of intellectual essays on homeschooling from 1991. For now, my heart is at peace.