Homeschool and Chickens

So the journey begins. There is a form that goes to the superintendent that says we are taking responsibility for educating Amelia. It is eerie to think that I have to report this to someone. Suddenly, the responsibility for educating our children has more weight and measurement. She is, after all, the six year old that has 13 chickens and a sheep and an herb garden and a feather collection with thousands of feathers and a bird book that she knows by heart. Hundreds of birds for memory. She can build and draw and cook and think and speak so clearly and problem solve, especially if it has anything to do with chickens. Today -- the rain came unexpectedly. Chicken feed was left out and got wet. She took grocery bags out and salvaged all the dry feed. Filled grocery bags full, tied them shut and put them away.

She recently decided to name the chickens. We've only ever had three chickens with names. I had Tess and Lady Bird and then Amelia named her speckled sussex "Mary Poppins" because of her ability to appear suddenly out of no where. Well, the other morning, she and George named the chickens. We have Hertz, Avis, Pollo, Unusual, Clint, etc. I can't remember all the names, but she knows them.

So if I tell the school system that she tames chickens and sheep and names them great names and that she loves herbs and knows their names and that she can plant anything and make it grow and harvest it. She  knows the planets, the months, she can divide and make fractions. She can make homemade icecream and bread all by herself. She can scramble eggs. She knows how to laugh at jokes playing on words, she loves to converse with adults. She loves to decorate and clean and create. They probably won't care.

She can't read very well. They will care about that. We are working on that. Daily. Today we were learning about the suffix "y". She decided it was a speckled sussex and didn't care much about what it did to the word.

We learned the name of Owl in Spanish -- Buho, and dog and cat. She practiced the fiddle, we drew pictures of the first two days of creation, did melty beads, made pesto. The best ever with a big hug! She picked the basil, washed it, instructed me on the amount of nuts, garlic, oil, parmesean, and lemon juice to add. She added a bit to much lemon juice, but it sure is good.

George Wilder loves his math and his spelling practice and his reading. We add science and history soon and a little more drawing and geography and reading some more. I am nervous. I don't think I am capable of having a great attitude about it everyday. William is everywhere always and I have to chase him down and run back to George Wilder with instructions and pop over to Amelia for encouragement.

We haven't officially begun. I haven't mailed the letter. We are not up and running full steam yet.

I know I have to make it something that they want to do not something boring and scary. I want to learn with them. It is hard to wake up everyday and not think about the dirt and the piles and the painting and the shopping. Instead, we concentrate on writing neatly, holding the bow the right way, sitting still long enough to get directions. Good things. So, here we go. Another adventure. . . .