I want to be free.

I want to think freely.

I want to be free to think freely.

I want to learn and never stop learning.

I want to dig for answers and gain understanding as my reward, not blindly swallow schooling from a spoon and regurgitate it in a classroom.

I want to work at something and have results as my just remuneration.

I want to please and be pleased.

I want to like despite being liked.

I want to break the mold, not fit the mold.

This week happens to be Career Week in my daughter's kindergarten class.  As most of you know, my older two girls are homeschooled again, but my youngest wanted to finish out the school year before she joins us full time again next year.  So, when her teacher sent home a letter last week asking if any parents wanted to volunteer to come in and talk to the class we accepted. 

Last weekend it was brought to my attention that my husband is sexist.  Yeah, who knew?  I mean, you think you know a person.  You share your life, your love, your hopes and efforts for fourteen years, only to find out that the world you’ve created for yourselves is a sexist’s utopia.  Sweet!

We returned to home educating our children three weeks ago.  I had homeschooled the two older girls before and while we loved being together, the whole experience was enough to make me question whether or not I really wanted to return to it, even though my girls said they did.

Okay, so I’m not a very dutiful consumer.  I just received an email from my cell phone company.  I know, the politically correct term these days is “wireless provider,” but to me, they’re just a cell phone company.  I have a cell phone through them.  I use it to make phone calls and receive them and that’s it; no internet, text, pics, etc.; that stuff just leads to trouble and wasted time in my experience. 

My desk today is my garden table.  The chairs are hard iron and create a patchwork of diamond-shaped dimples on my behind.  But the air pleasantly lacks some of the oppressive heat and humidity today.  The ducks are wandering and squawking in harmony.  Butterflies and our honey bees are pollinating here and there and the sweet smell of the lavender-hued cowpea flowers is perfectly intoxicating.  Life is good for me, right now.  For this, I am eternally grateful.  I know that all peace does not last and carefree bliss eventually fades into the busy modern life, but right here and right now,

I underestimate the power of sisters.  Or maybe it’s just the close age difference.  Or maybe I just underestimate my girls.  No matter which way it is, I often find myself blindsided by their love for each other, especially since I see them bicker and fight like no one's business.  This morning was one of the shocking moments.  We told the girls that we are considering taking Kacy, our middle daughter, out of school and homeschooling her.  I expected the reaction to be one of relief and excitement on Kacy’s part and indifference from the other two.  Cameron, our youngest who just started k

It's fall gardening time.  I actually have some garden beds this year, with things planted in the ground.  That may sound dumb, but it's a huge step above the converted bucket-pots we used last year because we knew we would be moving again, and the nothing I've had every year before that because we lived in an area with NO sunlight. 

Some ladies on a forum today have gotten me thinking about this topic.  Being a wife in this modern age of working either outside of the home or from the home, the workload on women has more than doubled.  It seems that for women married to men in certain professions, i.e.

Every year I still cry. 

Only one year, my girls asked why. 

Seeing the pictures and videos made them understand: why cry. 

They still ask why, but now it is, "Why would they?  How could they?  What about all those people who died?"

"Would Daddy would have gone into the towers if he had worked there?"

Of course, then we cry.