By Lynn, on July 30th, 2010%
Yesterday evening I walked outside and saw a beautiful cloud. The tip-top was full of the last bit of the day’s sun. It would soon be dark. So many thoughts went through my mind. How the light filled the cloud with a beauty that it wouldn’t otherwise have had (though clouds have their own beauty anyway). How there are some people I know who are in their last years of life and their beautiful spirits have come to the top and show that what they’ve lived for is truly worth it. How it would soon be dark and there was hope for a new day in just a few short hours.
Life really does pass quickly. The older I get, the faster it goes.
I have found myself more determined lately to have a joyful spirit. There are some very specific reasons why, which I can hopefully share later. For now, today is a work day and I’m just peeping in to wish everyone a good day!
Creatures. Sigh. On my little garden walk this morning I noticed this clear-winged sphinx moth sitting on the basil. They remind one of a hummingbird the way they move through the air.
This pearl crescent was visiting the butterfly bush.
I had nearly let the walkway disappear! The garden needs tons and tons of work. We won’t even think about it today. I’ll focus on how happy I was in the garden this morning to see my stepping stones again. Lots more weeding to do, but it’ll be there next week.
I hope you have a lovely day!
By Lynn, on July 23rd, 2010%
It’s something I don’t have much of these days. Life feels overwhelming at times with things that must be done. As children get older, but aren’t quite independent yet, it takes a lot of driving around, emotional input and consulting to keep them on track and to get them where they need to be.
There’s never enough money, and I hear that from those on the lower end of things to those making what looks to be plenty. It’s expensive to live, drive, eat, shower, stay cool…whatever, these days. It is in all of this chaos that I take such pleasure in little moments of simplicity. And this is coming from someone who thrives on clutter and can’t seem to get settled without tons of framed pictures, varied tins full of old keys and springs and things, baskets filled with children’s books and Victoria magazines, and doll house miniatures sitting all over!
In my “pink room,” the room with pink curtains, a teacup wall paper border, and my favorite purple chair, I like to always keep things clean and (relatively) simple. I sit in my purple chair lately and let my eyes rest on my mosaic table and the very old painted crock full of roses and red.
I let my mind wander to art projects that I need to finish, school planning that must be done — and soon! — and sometimes I just let my mind go blank. Ahhhhh.
Today’s a work day, so I’m scooting over to the work desk now.
Here’s to a little spot where the eye can rest and the mind can let go of a few things everything.
By Lynn, on July 16th, 2010%
Just popping in for a quick hello this morning afternoon. My how the time flies when we’re having fun!
I’ve been working on pins all week. And enjoying life with four kids, my own Wild Kingdom, of sorts, and continuous housework. It’s a wonder I have a mind left at all.
Figure into all of this that in the background of things this week, my van began to make a faint screeching, clicking, whining, scraping sound on and off. I was so tempted to call Click and Clack to find out what they thought, but then today I found out on my own. On the road. I was out running errands before work and the belt that apparently winds around the alternator and does something for the power steering came loose completely. It’s like the clouds opened and a bright light shone down on my van engine. It went back to sounding like a finely tuned machine, just as my power steering went out and I had to wheel up into the bank parking lot looking like a driver from the 1940s, pulling on that steering wheel with all my might to make the turn. Thank goodness I still have some tone left in my upper, 40-something-year-old arms.
I called the carpenter man and he showed up to make arrangements for the van to go to the shop and me to go home. And hopefully it won’t cost but a couple of hundred to fix it. I’ve been driving all week wondering what in the world was wrong, how bad it would be, and how much it would cost. Let’s keep our fingers crossed today that all ends well, because I want to need to see my mom in the morning at the farmer’s market.
Then, I’ve been lamenting over not having enough creatures in the garden when I noticed this morning that droves of them are building right near the front door. How convenient for a certain creature-picture-taker I know, who now only has to crack the front door to get creature pictures. Don’t tell the carpenter man about this.
I hate to tear apart a community, but I suppose I’ll have to remove both freshly constructed homes and take them away from here. They should be happy. It beats the carpenter’s Raid.
May you have a blissfully chaos-free day. 
Lynn
By Lynn, on July 14th, 2010%
Well, club members, it’s that time again. Time for another of my fabulous hit songs from the mid 1970s. The songs just keep getting better and better. So grab your mop or broom or coffee cup or dust rag (or whatever it is you hold in your hand while you stand and stare) and get ready to sing!
Whoaaaa, is that a club song, or WHAT? And not only is it your choice what you hold while you stand and stare, but you get to choose what you want out of life, and out of your club president. Do you want saugar canes or honey? Knowing how my presidential mind worked way back then, I’m not sure I choose saugar canes. It might be safer for you if you just go with honey.
In other club news, I have chosen our membership chairman. Yes, dear friends, it is Annie, a.k.a. Fatso Beagle, the love of my midlife crisis. I noticed the other day that she is really good at standing and staring. Yes, here she is holding onto her knotted up sock, staring at the ceiling.
I zoomed in to give you a closer look. As you can see, she is not looking at me, and there’s no one else in the room, I promise. She is totally focused on the ceiling. What she saw up there is up for grabs. I know I look very much the same way when I am trying to decide something important, i.e., whether or not to move a large metal blanket cabinet down the stairs for the dozenth time, and trade it for a sewing desk (insert heavy object of your choice here) which will be dragged upstairs for the dozenth time. No wonder my children hide under their beds when I look like that.
Oh dear. I have wandered off topic again. Yes, it happens frequently these days. I was telling a dear friend just the other day that I am much like an ameoba lately. Room for only one thought at a time, I’m afraid. If only I were like a certain carpenter man I know, who really made me laugh (hysterically) the other day when he said he had enough gray matter to run a power plant. I think men just say things like that whether it’s true or not. Just sayin.
So back to WHY Annie will be the membership chairman. I have made a very keen observation. She does not bark at everyone. Only some people. Some people she does not bark at and some people she does. (How’s that for saying something forward and backward?) Anyhoo, I got to thinkin’ that maybe she’s barking at people who are not real good at standing and staring. In fact, it seems highly likely that this is the case. So far, the people she has barked at (relentlessly) are people who strike me as not being very good at standing and staring at all! Are you getting a picture of how the membership process will work?
Well, that’s all for club news for now. Let’s talk about creatures.
I wish this picture had turned out clearer, but basically I had to lie down on the ground with the camera almost in the wet dirt to get this. The web is nearly horizontal and the spider was on the ground side of the web. It was just such a pretty sight after the rain, I had to share it with you.
I love these little green creatures you can see on the tansy. I’m not sure what they are, but they are here every year. They can really hide well on plants that are colored just like they are. They sometimes jump on my arms when I bushwhack my way through the garden.
And speaking of that, I have more chores to do than can be done. Makes me want to just sit down and do something mindless, but I’m afraid of what carpenter man will say when the lady banks and trumpet vine finally grows up around the doors and windows so that we cannot exit or enter the house, and what he might do if there’s nothing for supper except cereal and cucumbers (again).
Enjoy this day! It’s bright and sunny here and we got buckets of rain last night.
By Lynn, on July 9th, 2010%
Life is still in high gear here. I must work today. In fact, I must log into the time system by noon, giving me exactly 11 minutes! I have done my week’s worth of grocery shopping this morning. In the heat. I am tired. Still gotta type for 8 hours. I’m trying really hard these days to use my time in my work chair thinking and dreaming of things I love. Well, uh, I still focus on the notes I’m typing, but it is possible to have one wheel turning in the MT direction and another turning in the farmer’s market direction. Sometimes the wheels work even better that way!
I don’t have time to take pictures this morning, or even edit anything from the camera, so I chose a random picture from a July gone by. It’s a couple of years ago when I was out harvesting the sage. I don’t even have any sage this year!
May you have a productive day!
By Lynn, on June 30th, 2010%
I’m in the mood to tell a family story this morning. Maybe it’s because of this emotional transition I’ve been through lately. It has to do with a family name and a memory of a story told to me by a favorite great-uncle. (I had a few favorite great-aunts and -uncles!)
Yesterday I did some more cleaning and purging, loading up four more bags of outgrown clothes and shoes to take to Goodwill. Though I may have missed a few cobwebs, I did some organization and deep cleaning, and I’m very happy with the result. I’m also happy to know in my heart that I’ll never truly be a minimalist. That’s not to say that I have anything against those who are. One of my best friends has a very clean and open living space, and I think she leans more towards minimalism. I tell her every time I’m there that I want that openness and peaceful feeling that she has in her home. She knows who she is. Anyway, while I’m telling you the family story, I’ll share some pictures of my “organized clutter.” Thanks for helping me not be lost in my mind anymore.
I had a great-uncle named Roy Shepherd. I loved him and I loved his name. Shepherd was his middle name, not his last name. He was a good man and a good influence on me, and when it was time to name my firstborn son, I couldn’t think of anything prettier than Daniel Shepherd. The only problem turned out to be that my great-aunt was a little forgetful at that point and she spelled the name Shephard with an A. So I now have a Daniel Shephard. But that’s okay. It still evokes for me a mental picture of a shepherd and my beloved Great Uncle Roy.
The more I studied the family history, the more I loved this name Shepherd. I came to find out that my Uncle Roy was named after his Uncle Stacy Shepherd. Oh my, another beautiful name! And this Stacy was quite the cutie (I have a picture of him now) and they called him “Stace.”
As I studied more, I was told an even sweeter story. My great-great-uncle Stace had 8 siblings. There was Robert Franklin, Evander Jones (my great grandfather), John Kirkland, William Abner, Artemis, Oscar Thadeus, Jerome Corbett (Romie), and one girl, Julie Elizabeth (Lizzie–and she was a doll!). According to the story, their mother, Foster (yes that was her name), was having a hard time delivering Uncle Stace. The doctor was sent for and apparently was figured to be what saved the day. The doctor’s name? Dr. Sheppard.
Great-great-uncle Stace was named after the doctor who delivered him. As I studied more, lo and behold, I uncovered a census a few years back, and there on the list, four houses away from Charlie and Foster (however far that might have been), was Dr. Sheppard’s name. It gave me chills. I also noticed that the name had changed from Sheppard to Shepherd, and I always wondered how that came about. Did Charlie and Foster take their spelling from the bible? Did they just spell it the way they knew? Whatever the reason, it always made me feel less bad that I, once again, had altered the spelling of this beautiful family name.
I don’t like to think that all of these people are long gone, but I dearly love beyond words the family photos that are left behind and the gatherings that occur yearly to trade family stories and share more pictures and artifacts that have been uncovered. I love the traits (most of them!) that I see of these men in my own sons.
Uncle Roy told me a little story one time and I wrote it in my bible. That was 23 years ago. It’s called Each A Place.
Each A Place
God gives us each a place to fill.
May we be wise enough to know that I can’t fill yours for you and you can’t fill mine for me.
There was a willow by a stream and a cactus in the desert. Each glorified its maker because it grew where its maker put it.
One day the willow was put in the cactus’ place and the cactus in the willow’s. The willow burned and the cactus drowned. After that, the days of each were sad and few.
I’ve often thought of that story, especially when I look at the old picture hanging above of the old Thomas homeplace and those pictured in front of it: my great-great-uncle Stace, my great-great-grandmother Foster, my great-great-grandfather Charlie, Stace’s wife Irene who (very sadly) died young, my great-great-aunt Lizze, and my great-great-uncle Romie.
It’s been good this morning to think again about having a place.
By Lynn, on June 28th, 2010%
I’m lost. Wandering around in my own head. Trying to figure out who I am, who I was, who I want to be, and if I’ve just been tricked all this time into thinking that I like clutter when I really don’t.
I’ve been reading stories on this blog: Becoming Minimalist. You need to go to the tab at the top that says Share Your Story, and you will see a list of stories as to why people became minimalist.
I started reading. I felt so free as I read the stories. It sounded so liberating and like the thing to do. I was compelled to declutter. Coffee cup in hand, I began walking through the house, mentally tagging things to get rid of. Not much was tag-able. Within moments I was overwhelmed. Time for a nap.
Okay. I mean, I can clean out, and I did that recently for the big yard sale, and I currently have a van load of stuff to go to Goodwill, but I’m having a really hard time deciding just how much decluttering I want to do.
I think of how my old farm house must have looked when it was first built in 1921. Just how much ”stuff” did the people have? They had things that were useful, for sure. Farm implements. Things for the kitchen. The closets are small, so I know they did not have a lot of clothing and “junk.” I sometimes think I want this house to look “authentic.” What if I cut back to what would have been here in 1921? The rooms would be sparse. The big windows would look even bigger. There would be places for the eyes to rest.
But that’s insane. I don’t live in 1921. And I require a large desk with a computer, router, modem, endless wires, blah blah blah, to work. I know they did not have an office with computers in it — one for school, one for work, and so on. Their kids didn’t have ipods and game systems and huge backpacks and silly bands and skateboards. There was no A.C. Moore to clog up women’s brains and turn them all into the artists that they truly were all along. So why am I even thinking like that?
I am back to square one. Who am I, really? Let’s get psychological. Maybe it’s a sign of something deeper, like feeling I need more control over my time and my life and my children that are growing up all of a sudden and my “baby years” are totally gone. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I feel like if I can just get my house in perfect, peaceful, clutter-free order, I will have order everywhere else.
Ahh. I think we might be onto something.
I think back to when the children were little. (I believe you can click on this picture to see closer up; you’ll probably just have to press the back button to come back here.) We were visiting friends. I was holding “baby John” who drank a bottle until he was about 5. (I kept telling people to quit worrying, that he would not still be drinking a bottle at 16. He’s 16 now and I was right. So there. And he has straight teeth. And no cavities. Just one of his front teeth was broken in half where Michaela hit him in the mouth. I digress.) Joseph had just sprayed Daniel in the face with a water gun about the time everyone was supposed to say “cheeeeeese.” My best friend’s son and daughter were looking on. It was sweet.
Anyway, I don’t think I was having a minimalist breakdown back then. I was focused on keeping children from sticking things in electrical outlets, childproofing cabinet doors, and trying to get a few minutes alone in the bathroom without a child finding me and asking did I want to play Monopoly or something. I didn’t have the time to think about minimalism. So why am I thinking about it now?
I think I am at more of an emotional transition than anything. I just want order and I’m finding it hard to keep up with the demands of trying to help a 22-year-old son and a 19-year-old son figure out their way through life when they’re not sure what they want to do yet, and a 16-year-old son who still has not signed up for driver’s ed and has a mile-long list of things to do and places to go, and homeschooling my 11-year-old tomboy of a girl who also has a mile-long list of places to go and things to do. I’m trying to balance a job and meals and I’m really feeling the pinch of knowing that the “formative years” are all but gone and yet there’s more real work that needs to be done.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my chldren and I am proud of them all. I wouldn’t trade them.
Now. Add to all of that the fact that I love to craft and paint and I never finish a project in one sitting and my house is not big enough for a craft room, so it seems like everything is always “out.” Nothing ever seems put away anymore. And we won’t even talk about 11 rabbits, a housecat with a brain injury and a beagle who is afraid to go outside and wet.
I’m basically just rambling here – UH-GAN — and realizing that my need to find order is probably just a way to deal with where I am in life emotionally. I’ve heard women say when they were at “my stage” in life that they would like to be dropped off on a deserted island for awhile. I think I’m trying to turn my house into that deserted island.
It ain’t gonna happen.
I’m just trying to make my way down this path I’m on, with the Village of Victorianism on one hand and the Village of Minimalism on the other, and I think I really do like it best in the Village of Victorianism. I like lacy curtains, stacks of magazine, tons of old books, pictures tacked to every square inch of the wall. And I think I’ll craft with wild abandon even yet. The children can just step around the blobs of polymer clay and containers of string and the half-done canvases. After all, I’ve sure dodged enough water guns and stepped on enough Legos.
I’ll just keep straightening and cleaning out from time to time and trying to get control of the “hot spots.” I’ll take what I need from the minimalist frame of mind and enjoy the clutter I have in the meantime. I’m just too tired to try to become something I’m not at this point in life. My poor mom knows what a packrat of a child I was, but I have enough of her in me to keep my clutter organized. Maybe I’ll start my own movement. The organized clutter movement. And anyway, The Standing and Staring Club would be null and void if I got rid of everything.
Whew!! I’m glad I’ve got that settled!
By Lynn, on June 23rd, 2010%
Did that get your attention?
Good! Because it’s one of the club songs you’ll be singing on a regular basis. Apparently, even back in the early 70s I knew what it was like to not be able to please the whole world all at once, and the lyrics to this club song written back then reflect that sentiment.
I’m not sure what the driving influence was to create such a powerful song. Maybe it was that old Sonny and Cher album and I Got You Babe. Or perhaps the Partridge Family’s C’Mon Get Happy. Or maybe even Captain and Tennille’s Muskrat Love. One thing is clear, however. If you get into the club, I will not let you go.
At any rate, I think this paper, preserved from the 70s (thank s, Mom), will clearly tell you when to really throw yourself into the song and twist or twirl or disco or whatever it is that you do. I, personally, am really good at that John Travolta dance move from the disco years. You know, where you point your finger up to the ceiling and then down to the ground. I don’t do it much now because my children don’t seem to understand it. Maybe they’re just jealous because my dance moves are so much cooler than theirs.
Well. I’ve given you a lot to think on; namely, do you really want to join this club.
Actually, I do think we’ll have fun. And I promise not to be as bossy as I was back in the 70s when not only I wrote powerful songs like this, but I made all the club members submit their songs too. It was a rule. I mean, what is a club if you don’t have everyone singing club songs all the time?
Now, onto real life business. Thank you so much for your wisdom in sending me to Goodwill. It’s the thing to do. I just cannot please the world all at once, and trying to have a sale at a flea market and then type for 8 hours is probably too much. (And I thought I’d learned so much back then.)
I’m working on a new planner purse today. More about that later, with pictures. We just returned from a violin lesson and I need to work on supper. The big task of each day: what to eat. More later too about the menu notecards. They are working very well — when I use them. Habits. Habits. I’m trying. But you know, I was just thinking. If I don’t feel like cooking, I could be singing that song when Thomas comes home — that I cannot please the world all at once. I could tell him that even though there’s not anything to eat (because, once again, I cannot please the world all at once) that I will never let him go. Then I could do my John Travolta dance moves. Do you think it would work?
Enjoy this day!
By Lynn, on June 21st, 2010%
This past weekend was so busy for me. Sometimes I’m not sure I can keep going, but then I’ll push on and get everything done and finally my days off will be here and I rest up and relax and then my work days are here again. It’s a cycle that, honestly, I get tired of repeating at times.
I worked on Friday, a regular work day for me, 8 hours of typing. Of course, there are the standard chores sprinkled throughout the day, before I start work, during breaks and lunch, and then once I’m done typing. Cooking, errands, transporting children to activities and phone calls still take place. That is truly one of the hardest parts about working at home. You really do NOT get away from the at-home chores and it’s like working two jobs at one time.
I miss working at Whole Foods so much sometimes, and I would go back in a second, except it would be crazy for me to do so. For one thing the salary difference is huge! Whole Foods does have great benefits, but I make almost three times the amount doing transcription, not to mention the good benefits. Not bragging here, just explaining why I keep doing what I do.
Working from home saves me mileage on the van and gas money. And no matter how much you can be yourself at Whole Foods Market, you still cannot work in your pajamas if you’re having a bad day.
Where was I? Oh yeah, I made it through Friday, getting to bed at about midnight after packing the van. I got up at 5 a.m. on Saturday morning and drove to the flea market and rented a table. I was set up by about 6:30 a.m. and enjoyed watching others set up and shoppers start to filter in through the walkways between the tables.
I stayed until 11 a.m. which gave me a few hours. Guess how much money I made?
Thirty dollars.
Yaaaaay, I made 30 whole dollars!
OR…
Poo! I only made 30 dollars.
However you want to look at it. I was actually pleased since this was my first yard sale in years and was a “test sale.” There were a lot of Spanish speaking people at the flea market, which is in no way a bad thing except that I did not take that into account when packing up what I would sell. I had a ton of books and magazines and they barely got touched! Is it because Spanish-speaking people don’t read? Of course not! It was the language barrier. The stacks and stacks of beautiful books did not get touched, but I was quite intrigued while watching and listening to strangers going through my clothes and holding things up and saying things about my stuff that I could not understand! Of course, if they are mostly Spanish-fluent, they would not be looking to buy an assortment of books in English!
So, yeah, quite the learning experience there. And in that light, I think making 30 dolllars was awesome! But then I had to drive home (it was hot as a firecracker outside and I was pretty wilted and sweaty from standing in the sun) and then I logged in and typed for 8 hours.
I’m trying to decide if it was enough to make it worth doing it again. Five hours sleep? Thirty dollars? Even if I made more next time with better planning and not having to take the books, is it worth it?
The good thing is that I cleaned out a ton of stuff and my house feels lighter and less cluttered. My new rule for purchasing anything is that it has to be something we absolutely need, or something that I fall in love with. I mean it has to be knock-your-socks-off good. 
The bad thing is that the van is still full of leftover stuff that did not sell, hence if I want to do this again, I have to keep storing that stuff until the next sale.
Tell me, dear internet friends, is it worth it? Especially when I have been approved to sell my art dolls on Saturday mornings at a farmer’s market? I’m thinking I should make a trip to Goodwill, unload the van, focus on my art dolls and brooches and move on. What do you think?
In case you are wondering, the pictures you are seeing are of my tiny little living room, where I sit and read or just semi-meditate sometimes. The “coffee table” is a 6-dollar thrift store table that I put a mosaic top on a few years back.
If you are still reading along, I do thank you for allowing me to ramble, yet again. Would you like a cold herbal tea? Hot tea? I have some new super seeded tortilla chips from Trader Joe’s and some garlic hummus dip. I’ll let you ramble for while.
Enjoy this day.
By Lynn, on June 18th, 2010%
I am so relieved to know that I’m not alone. (Mom, if you are reading this, aren’t you just so relieved??? We’re normal!)
Since there are so many of us who like to tear things up and tear things out and just basically create upheaval every so often, I thought we could have a club. I’ll be the president, of course. You can ask my sister what a good club president I make. I was president of every single thing we ever did together (I was the oldest), so I know she can tell you what a good president I am. (Nay Nay? Are you out there? I’m giving you the platform for 2 seconds so you can say something, i.e., what a good president I am.)
I’ve decided our club drink will be a green smoothie. I know you will love it! It will give us the energy we need to sling furniture around and look important. And this might be a good time for a spelling lesson. Please note that the name of the club is The Standing and Staring Club” and not “The Standing and Starring Club.” Please do not make this common spelling error (though you will be the star of your home if you create upheaval every so often by tearing things out.) Perhaps in an old journal from when you were about 10, you wrote something like, “I wish my brother would quit starring at me,” and that’s okay, but now it’s time to spell correctly and realize that for you, YOU will be staring at things (even if your brother is still starring at things).
I am happy to announce that our club snack is just as exciting as our club drink. Again, we’ll need lots of energy. Green energy. And all the green you need is right around the corner.
So, that pretty much does it for now for club business. As I think of things, I’ll be sure and add them to the club rules, which I’m also in charge of, by the way. Just ask my sister and she will tell you what great rules I make up.
Now, onto some chaotic life issues. Honestly, I’m excited to have my living room doubling as a storage room right now, but it’s driving me crazy. I just cannot take it much longer. I like clutter, I’ll be the first to admit it, but it has to be in its place. Everything in its place. I can only hope that it all sells. Every last shred and scrap of stuff that’s clogging up my living room.
The garden is growing like crazy, and we are indeed getting veggies now. I just picked cucumbers a couple of days ago. It was just two of them, but they were the first and they are just starting to come in. Now there are what seem like dozens of tiny cucumbers out there and I’m wondering just how many we’ll get once they begin to ripen en masse.
They are so cute!! Tiny little baby cucumbers all through the garden. I think the bunnies have enriched our garden immensely, if you know what I mean. I see such a difference this year compared to last year. It’s amazing. And speaking of the bunnies, it’s time for me to run. I have to work today (trying to be happy about that) and I also want a little time outside this morning to read in the garden, visit the bunnies, and just be. I never got a chance to get on here yesterday and reply to your kind comments (though I’ll do that soon) or post an update, because Michaela had her end-of-year testing yesterday (an hour drive for us) and we just made a day of it. She did great! I am so happy! She scored a year to two years ahead in everything and her weak areas were still right on grade level, and I was expecting those anyway. I know what we’ve done enough of and what we haven’t. She is very strong in math. Go girl!
Enjoy this day.
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About Lynn
I am the mother of four delightful children: a 23-year-old son, a 20-year-old son, a 17-year-old son, and a bright and bubbly 13-year-old daughter. I share an apartment home with my 17-year-old son and 13-year-old daughter. My little home on the internet is called Rose Cottage because of my love for gardening, roses, and all things romantic and Victorian. Welcome.
I'm a North Carolina girl and I love sharing North Carolina links and information. I do medical transcription from home. My hobbies include making sweet little dolls from clay who are named and have their own stories to tell. I also make old-fashioned brooches. These are for sale in my Etsy shop.
For 13 years continuously, I homeschooled some or all of our four children, but the time came that our homeschool had to be closed. It was the end of a beautiful chapter in my life. I will always be a strong supporter of homeschooling and I will continue to review books and maintain my homeschool website, The Healthy Homeschool. The Players
Lil Ol' Me
Son Daniel, 23
Son, Big Joe, 20
Son, John, 17
Daughter, Michaela, 13
Annie Fatso Beagle
My Symphony
To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony.
William Henry Channing
1810-1884
What You Do Sow a thought, reap an action.
Sow an action, reap a habit.
Sow a habit, reap a character.
Sow a character, reap a destiny.
Contact Me 
I would  for you to leave a comment, but you can also e-mail me at lynn AT thehealthyhomeschool.com
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