So, after pulling (rather, digging) out all our kale plants months ago, I noticed yesterday that we have more growing again. I know I've mentioned that I have kale in past blogs. I just checked and found two references, one here. But I've not talked of it enough for you to understand much of how this new sighting makes me laugh and the kids groan. It's too bad I didn't take pictures the first year when I planted out 6 little seedlings that quickly grew to be huge plants. I didn't really like kale before I planted it. You'll discover that's typical of my gardening habits. I plant some things so that I'll learn to like them and with some exceptions I usually do. Of course there are some things I think I like that I learn to dislike. Well, I quickly learned to like kale. We had so much of it I had to eat or be eaten. Search for kale recipes online and you'll most often come across kale chips. Worth a try. And it became my favourite way to prepare the greens. You see, kale doesn't get mushy like spinach. It gets crispy. And when you add a little oil and sea salt to the mix it becomes a snack worthy of any potato chip bag. K2 shared my enjoyment--a little too much at times until I learned to double my batch size. The plants survived a few frosts, tasted fine and continued to grow until they were covered by snow. So much for my kale. I hoped that maybe one plant would survive the winter as the package said but it was a long shot.

So I thought.

The snow melted and first one plant then another and finally a total of 8 plants grew and thrived. (How good is your math?) We--as in me and K2--were eating kale in April long before any other plant showed its tips. They went to seed, I dug them up, giggled when a new one that had seemed dead resurrected and then went to seed. It has literally been months since I dug up each and every plant. I found myself craving kale so that I even bought some from the market to make my chips and stir-fry with my cabbage. It wasn't as good but I didn't have to inspect it as closely for caterpillars.

And now there's a good sized plant again on its way. Kale into November again this year and who knows? maybe spring? One day I'll post a picture for you and you can smile with me at the silliness of kale that won't go away.

Charlotte Mason Meets the Digital World

Really, when someone describes the purpose of a conference as clearly as this I'm happy to just point the way to the author.

Please also follow the link to the Charlotte Mason Digital Collection!

This was a conference I so enjoyed to be a part of. In addition, as if the exciting happenings in the world of education weren't enough, a big part of the enjoyment came from the times outside the classroom. Time to visit with friends late into the night, a lovely hike, drives to and from the conference place, my hostess's beautiful home and family and friendship. She also drove us around so I could concentrate on visiting with her and not trying to follow those infernal directions that keep getting me. Will someone please put a GPS in my head? I admire the people involved in this conference so that I felt thrilled to be a part of the fun. Thank you, Deani!

And one more link for you. My son heard from my Dad that a new concerto written by Vivaldi has just been discovered and is scheduled to be played in full concert in Perth, Scotland in January, 2011.

Fog and Soup

I've been reading Carl Sandburg poems lately. I like them.

BUBBLES

Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves.

They flickered out saying:

"It was worth being a bubble just to have held that rainbow thirty seconds."

SHIRT

My shirt is a token and symbol,

more than a cover for sun and rain,

my shirt is a signal,

and a teller of souls.

I can take off my shirt and tear it,

and so make a ripping razzly noise,

and the people will say,

"Look at him tear his shirt."

I can keep my shirt on.

I can stick around and sing like a little bird

and look'em all in the eye and never be fazed.

I can keep my shirt on.

LOST

Desolate and lone

All night long on the lake

Where fog trails and mist creeps,

The whistle of a boat

Calls and cries unendingly,

Like some lost child

In tears and trouble

Hunting the harbor's breast

And the harbor's eyes.

It would be worth your while too to look him up at the library or at a used book store. Rainbows are Made is the book I'm enjoying. I also have his Complete Works from the library. FOG is his most famous poem. We love SOUP.

Share your favourites with someone, will you?