Reflections from 2015

John and I circa 1985.

Another year is nearly behind us.  Like a favorite trail, my mind lovingly touches each familiar memory.  So much gratitude . . . 

John Robert is thriving in his first year of high school.

Denver and Spencer are thriving at home and in their classes.

John Robert at his first high school
swim meet . . . munching snacks
between events.

John is happy in his work.

I am fulfilled by all my roles (except housekeeper; I need some help with that one!).

Breaststroke

My parents and John's parents are healthy.

We are healthy.

Our street . . . a beautiful tunnel of trees.

There is joy in our home and in our lives.

Spencer hauling fencing with Dadders and Bob.

John and I with friends at a Christmas party.

Photo by John Robert

John Robert's moving selfie with Spencer photo bomb.

Christmas Eve on the Square

Denver and Spencer with the new mountain bike!

Thanksgiving Day bike ride with the boys and my father on Eastside Trail

Spencer with Star Wars lego sets

Denver and Momma on a special field trip.

.

Denver writing with quill and ink . . .
just like the writers of the Constitution.

John Robert and his new appendage.
Happy 15th Birthday, buddy!

Denver LOVED his art class
this fall.

Spencer and partner in robotics class.

Denver loves collecting these dolls . . . Uh,
HISTORICAL FIGURES.

Denver and his Rembrandt inspired
portrait of Jake.

John and I in 2015.

Gratitude for Breezes and Bicycles

What a great day for a bike ride!
My son Spencer, friend Sara, and I rode
through Covington and on Eastside Trail yesterday.
Thank You for the bike rental, Mike Besaw at Square Bikes!

When I was little, my bike was everything I needed: it was a racehorse, a motorcycle, a ticket to wind rushing in my face and speed I could never reach on two legs.

My dad encouraged my love of cycling.  Before I could ride my own, I rode behind him on a little seat.  He and Mom rode all over town on their matching blue Schwinns.  Dad was there when I took my first wobbly ride without training wheels on the sidewalk in our backyard.  Several times a week, he still rides ten miles on a hilly paved trail.  Sometimes Mom joins him.

My son Denver (in blue) and friends going bicycle crazy!

Until I began thinking about triathlon, I had not really thought about bicycles in 20 years. Now, with my new beautiful bike-- which my husband named Spooky-- it all comes back to me: careening at high speed down a curving hill, adrenaline rushing, legs burning from the long hills, loving the bike and the road ahead.

My beloved new girl, Spooky.
Thank you, Dad.

I wish more people could get out of their cars on sunny days and at least rent a bicycle-- no need to train for an Ironman or anything . . .That would be Crazy (;-)  

The world needs more recess and gratitude-- both for the breeze on our faces . . . and bicycles.

Cartwheeling on Stone Mountain

Chief Denver shows off his
new headress and tomahawk.

Our Little Big Chief (aka Denver) has learned to do cartwheels.

He does them one-handed while talking to me in the living room. He cartwheels between bites of cereal while standing in the kitchen; and today, Denver Degonia did cartwheels while hiking up and down Stone Mountain. 

Whenever I expressed my fear he would get hurt, he said with exasperation, "I won't get hurt unless gravity reverses!"  It didn't.

Denver surveys his domain--
between cartwheels.

It is no longer a surprise to me when I realize the benefits of homeschooling-- and not just for cartwheeling.  I used to write about these realizations with wonder; now, they are simply beloved facts.

Denver shows off his toolmaking skills
from his latest art class--
History and the Art of Weapons

The boys are studying early American history this year, including Native American history. Spencer has already experienced the joy of dressing in costume, meeting "real" Native Americans, and making weapons.  But it's all new to Denver.

Denver spent the last seven weeks learning to make stone tools, a bow, and arrows in art class. We have been reading about Lewis & Clark and their experiences with Native Americans.  We made a buffalo headress (kind of . . . see below).  Denver wanted more . . .  

Inspired by his history lessons and the
Native American Pow Wow,
Denver is ready for Halloween.

Today, John, Spencer, Denver and I went to the Native American Pow Wow at Stone Mountain.  Once the rowdy crowds of elementary school children had cleared out, we had the park nearly to ourselves. We asked questions of the tribe representatives, listened to presentations by a Cherokee man, met a descendant of the Aztecs, watched a man make arrow heads, and saw a falconer at work with his birds.  

All of this was great.  It fed Denver's love of learning and adventure.  It complemented his reading and history.  But probably best of all, it was great family time.  So grateful for this time together.

Denver with Aztec dancer
and her enormous headress!

Denver's Buffalo Headress.

Denver and Spencer on top
of Stone Mountain.
The skyline of Atlanta was clearly visible
as well as kites flying nearby.

Spencer couldn't resist the purchase
of a new crossbow-- even though
we questioned its use as a
Native American weapon.

A Window to Joy

John Robert and his buddy enjoy a fierce
video game battle on a recent Saturday afternoon.

The days, weeks, months, and years roll by.  John Robert is enjoying his first year of high school.  He seems to have found his balance rather quickly.

The other boys and I are enjoying the challenge of a very busy fall schedule with lots of group classes and field trips in addition to the usual academics.  

Denver and Spencer spent hours
on their new board game, Castle Panic.

John loves the company he flys for and I love my work-- all of it. Somehow I even make time for the dogs and my triathlon training schedule-- although still without a bicycle!  

Some moments are challenging and sometimes I get grumbly-- no surprise to those who know me!-- but there is peace in our home most of the time.  I know there is joy.  

The boys enjoyed their first robotics class.

Denver made Roman Bulla necklaces
for himself and Apollo.

Working in clay for Art and the History
of Weapons

Spencer and partner working in robotics class.

Denver (in grey) playing chess at MSC.
He and Spencer joined the chess club this year.

Denver Van Gogh with
both ears attached.

Denver seemed pleased with his
 moving dragon.

Spencer had no trouble building a more advanced machine.

Happy Monday

You'll find quiet, happy moments between the flow from one activity to the next.  

These moments exist to remind us to breathe and appreciate this fragile, short life of ours. 

Happy Monday.

And Running Reminds Me

Happy to be setting a new personal record in the half marathon!

Although I love many people and am blessed by all the roles I am allowed to play-- including silly Diva at this half marathon last weekend (couldn't bring myself to wear the offered tutu!), it is good to occassionally remind myself that I am more than these roles. Running reminds me.

Perhaps my need to run is less about physical accomplishment and weightloss than I think.  Maybe this deep desire to run exists as a reminder that I exist separately from my sometimes overwhelming roles as wife, mother, daughter, judge, dog walker, taxi service, writing teacher, homeschool teacher, and yoga instructor. 

Who I am on the outside changes over time.  The body and face in these pictures is nearly unrecognizable to me.  Who I am changes on the inside, too-- I am not the same person now that I was five (or 47!) years ago.  Yet deep within-- the soul resides at peace within this stream of changes-- and running reminds me.

On the Road to Find Out

Racing myself to the finish line
of the Hotlanta Half Marathon last Sunday.

I hear so many people bemoaning their fate. They say they are too old to run-- bad knees, bad back, etc.  They are too old to lose weight; too old to make changes.  I disagree.

Life is so freaking short; I had to reach middle age before I realized, "It's just about over!"  

Rather than give up my dreams, I'm running fast toward them (Well, as fast as I can).

I hope to see you on the same road!

Denverus Spartacus and Spencerus, his mentor.

Denver and Spencer both enjoy this year's Latin
text and learning about ancient Roman history--
especially Spartacus.

A glance at today's Latin studies:  Not pictured are the activities that were . . . according to Denver . . . boring. These included reading in Latin, taking notes on Latin vocabulary and noun/adjective agreement, and a little vocabulary game that Spencer and I enjoyed. 

The boys enjoyed a Roman feast tonight.
Unfortunately, I was the servant!

Denver decided to jazz things up.  At his request, we researched the feasts of ancient Rome.  I then picked up a few things at the store after court-- chicken, eggs, cheese, nuts, bread, honey, fruit. Denver and Spencer prepared the living room.  We had a platter of food in the center and pillows around the food so we could recline and eat.  Voila!  A Roman feast!

Denver asked me to stop the ancient Rome
 documentary so he could run to the costume
 closet for more appropriate attire.

We also enjoyed a history channel documentary on the Roman Empire.  This was accompanied by clothing changes as Denver changed from a toga into Spencer's old Roman soldier costume.  

Finally, Denver was overjoyed when a UPS truck arrived with his new gladiator action figure and Gladiator book. 

We all enjoyed the feast.  Spencer and I enjoyed reminiscing about his own passion for ancient Rome.  The documentary, costume, and first gladiator figure were all part of Spencer's life when he was younger. 

Look what we have!
Two Roman gladiators who can do battle!

I took Spencer to the Michael C. Carlos Museum for a special outing together when he was seven. He chose a little gladiator in the gift shop.  He nearly loved it to death.  Since that time, he has read nearly every book in the library on ancient Rome, and has twice been a Roman general for Halloween. 

At twelve years old, Spencer is now the smiling big brother sharing history with Denver.  Where does the time go?