Ancient Civilizations: Greece Part I, Mythology

One of the things I love about homeschooling is the ability to tailor my son's education to his needs, and a close second is the ability to flex around the needs of the family.

While grade specific course objectives may state that your child needs to know x subject matter in a particular grade or age we, as educators, can determine if the child we teach is emotionally, physically, and spiritually ready to meet the subject matter. And, as parents, we sometimes have to bend a little in our expectations of running a perfect household (Ha!) whilst giving our child the most fabulous and thorough of educations.

Characters of the Iliad

Where am I going with this? An admission that we did not get to Greece in 5th grade, as is prescribed in almost all Waldorf curricula. Yes, we tried, but we were running out of school year and it was not a subject I wanted to rush. Plus, as we worked our way through India, Mesopotamia, and Egypt I could tell that the Boy was not quite ready to make the jump from 'story' to' history.'

Fifth grade is typically where Waldorf teachers make that all important leap with their classes—history told as a story to history told through fact. The children have reached that developmental milestone of being aware of the world around them. They thrive on physical challenges like the contests of the Greek Olympics. They are less dreamy and more of the world.

But my Boy was not completely there at the end of last school year. So we entered the world of Greek mythology this past fall. We told tales of the triumphs an tragedies of the Greek heroes and the meddlesome habits of the gods. We drew, painted, and modeled our way through the ancient myths.

12 Labors of Heracles

12 Labors of Heracles, Illustrated

The Beeginning of a New Adventure

Flowers, but no bees.

Spring is here, so the calendar tells me. You wouldn't know it by the temperature, or by the signs of spring in the yard. If we're lucky we might get up to 55 degrees today. And maybe actually above freezing tonight. The weather reminds me of February's sugaring weather...freezing at night, in the 40s during the day.  February weather, not April!

Crocuses have opened and are now withering away, but still no sunny daffodils waving in the breezes. Or the bursting forth of the forsythia. To me the forsythia is always the true sign that spring is here to stay.By now it should be warm enough for the flowers and when the flowers bloom, in come the bees. And very soon, like next week, come MY bees!

Last summer, while chatting about chickens with my friends Karen and Leslie (We probably sounded much like the hens we were discussing "pick a little talk a little cheep cheep cheep.") we came around to talking about raw honey and then to bees. All three of us expressed a mild interest in beekeeping.

Mild interest, for I don't really like crawly things. I appreciate them, love how they help us, but don't really like them. Each summer I find myself putting on a brave face and chanting to some child, "Worms (spiders, bees, etc.) are our friends. We must let them go back to their homes." Meanwhile my inner wuss is screaming "squish it!" Especially when it comes to spiders.

But, after a year's worth of research: attending beekeepers meetings, reading, perusing catalogues, taking an intro to beekeeping workshop, and taking what the beekeepers call a "short course," we are actually picking up a package of bees next week.

Einstein is attributed with stating, “If the bee disappeared off the face of the earth, man would only have four years left to live.” No one is really sure if he said that, but the point is a valid one. We need our pollinators, or we'll starve to death.

Unfortunately, our pollinators are dying off, and no one wants to say why. Most seasoned  beekeepers seem to think its a combination of things: pesticide use, genetically modified crops, loss of nectar sources, climate change, lowered disease resistance (due to the above). Lots of reasons all combining to wipe out a species that just can't adapt fast enough.

And beekeepers seem to be losing huge numbers of bees; dying off in late winter. (Some of the keepers at the York County Beekeepers Association are saying to expect a 50% die off this year.) It's been too cold to get in the hives to get hard numbers. 

So, while it might seem an exercise in futility, we're going to give it a try on our little homestead. My teacher, Jeremy Barnes, is estimating his losses at 10-20%, so maybe I'll be lucky if I emulate his methods. 

While I spend these last few chilly days (weeks?) dreaming about this year's yield in the garden and freezers full of chickens, I will also be nailing together hive bodies and frames, painting boxes, mounting beeswax foundation, and chanting to myself "Bees are our friends...."

Putting a frame together

How to Peel Shriveled Potatoes

I was at the York County Beekeeper's meeting last week (More about bees in forthcoming posts.) when the speaker remarked that for bees, March is the starving month. (Bees tend to run out of food right about now, just when they're starting to become more active.)

It made me think about our ancestors; March must have been their starving month, too. They survived on whatever they had preserved of their harvest. After a winter of eating from their stores, certain items would start to run out.

As I inventory our pantry, cold cellar, and freezer, I can see how our supplies are starting to dwindle. We still have plenty to get us through 'til the greens start producing, but the applesauce is nearly gone, there's only two or three chickens left, onions are long gone, we're down to three sweet potatoes. And a box of shriveled little potatoes, no bigger than a large chicken egg.

I despise peeling potatoes, and I really, really, really (getting the picture?) despise trying to peel small potatoes, let alone shriveled ones. For this very reason I sort my harvest of spuds into categories. Peelers (large and med/large), tiny ones that we eat whole, and everything else. I will begrudgingly peel those large ones, which seem to run out way too quickly. By winter's end we're down to the everything else category, which we mostly just dice and use for Saturday breakfasts, fried with eggs.

But my family also loves them mashed and for that they must be peeled. (According to our preference). Much to my joy and thankfulness, I discovered a quick and easy method for peeling those last wrinkled little potatoes hiding in the cold cellar.

It's just like peeling all those tomatoes piled up for summer canning.

Just three very basic steps:

1. Boil the potatoes in salted water for a short period.

2. Dunk them in ice water to cool.

3. Peel. 

How incredibly awesome is that?