Do They Still Play the Blues in Chicago?

Oy--Da' Bears!

I guess I am used to disappointment. Since the Cubs were my first religion, I know the meaning of hope in the face of contradictory evidence. "Maybe next year" was said in the homes of Cubs fans with the fervor of a rabbinic text. I really thought that "See ya' when the Cubs win the pennant" was probably somewhere in the wisdom literature of the Bible.

Poor N.! Being raised in Albuquerque, he is just not used to coping with sports angst. By the third quarter of the game yesterday, he was taking little breaks to skateboard down the driveway--while the rest of the country is caught in a cold snap, our snow is finally melting. He was getting overwhelmed by his emotions as it became very clear that although the Bears defense was keeping the score close, the offense was just not in the game.

After the game, he would not eat dinner. He called his dog for some "fuzzy therapy" and he went to bed. I, on the other hand, screamed "What a Bummer!" and then had a Sam Adams.

As I cleaned up the kitchen, I sang: "Do they still play the blues in Chicago, when baseball season comes around? When the snow melts away, do the Cubbies still play in their ivy-covered burial ground?" So you see, I am looking forward to the new season with...resignation. The true depth of faith of the Chicago spirit.

When I went to listen to his Shema and give him a good-night hug, I taught him the essential prayer of the Chicago sports fan: ..."Maybe next year."

New Year of Trees: Tu B'Shevat, Changing Seasons

On Friday morning, February 2, (Groundhog's day) I took a picture of the sunrise from our front door. I took a similar picture on December 21, the winter solstice. On the solstice, the sun rose over the tree in the middle-right of the picture, in south-south-east of our view. On Friday, it rose in the south-east, about 22 degrees to the north of the solstice point. The days are getting longer! Groundhog's day comes from the pagan holiday that marked the coming of the spring-Imbolc. In the old calendar, this would have been the beginning of spring and the vernal equinox (around March 20) would have been mid-spring. Groundhog's day is known as Candlemas to Christians, who added a Christian gloss to the old holidays, assimilating them into the Christian calendar.



On the Jewish calendar, we have a holiday that comes near to this time of the year--falling sometime within two weeks of Groundhog's day. This is the Holiday of Tu B'Shevat--literally, the 15th of the month of Shevat--and it is Rosh Ha-Shannah ha-Ilanot--the New Year of the Trees. The holiday is based on the following commandment:



"When you come to the land and you plant any tree, you shall treat its fruit as forbidden; for three years it will be forbidden and not eaten. In the fourth year, all of its fruit shall be sanctified to praise Adonai. In the fifth year, you may eat its fruit." (Leviticus 19:23-25).



The Tenaim (Rabbis who wrote the Mishnah) wondered how you count the years? When do you start so that you have counted three years? They determined that the New Year for Trees must occur when the sap rising in the tree in spring is entirely from "new water"--that is water from the present year with no water from the previous year mixed in. They decided that that occurs four months after the New Year for Water. In the Mishnah (part of the Talmud) they said:



"There are four new years... the first of Shevat is the new year for trees according to the ruling of Beit Shammai; Beit Hillel, however, places it on the fifteenth of that month." (Mishnah Rosh Hashanah 1:1)



The disagreement between the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel comes from a difference of opinion about when the New Year for Water occurs. Shammai says that it occurs on the Birthday of the world---Rosh HaShannah--which is the New Year for Creation, which is 1 Tishrei--making 1 Shevat four months later. Hillel says that the New Year for Water is on 15 Tishrei--the first day of Sukkot, because on the Sukkot the ceremony of water pouring occured in the temple and the prayers for the season were changed from summer to winter. This would make 15 Shevat four months later. The law always goes according to Hillel until the coming of the Messiah, when it will become according to Shammai.



So, on the full moon of Shevat, four months after the full moon of the Ingathering Harvest, we celebrate the New Year of Trees. In the land of Israel, it is a time to plant trees at the beginning of spring. In the 15th century C.E., the mystics of S'fat in the Galilee began the custom of a Tu B'Shevat Seder, connecting the the changing seasons to the Mystical Emmanations of Kabbalah--because these Emmanations are depicted in the form of a tree--the Eitz Chayyim--the Tree of Life. The Tu B'Shevat Seder has become a sort of Jewish Earth Day--a day to consider how we guard and protect Gan Eyden--the garden of Creation.



This year, N. and I collaborated on a simple ritual for the Tu B'Shevat Seder, based on several formats we found on the internet (the customs are still in flux since this is a relatively new ritual). There are four cups of wine (or grape juice), just as there are for the Passover Seder.

One cup is drunk for each season. The first is for winter (Atzilut, the divine energy of creation) and is all white wine. The second, for spring (Yitzirah, the divine energy of birth), is mostly white with a little bit of red. The third, for summer (Beriah, the divine energy of flourishing) , is mostly red with a little bit of white. And the last, for autumn, (Aysh, the divine energy of fire) is all red. N. led the blessing for each cup of wine.



We also different kinds of fruits for each season: Winter is hard on the outside, but nourishing on the inside (almonds), and reminds of the protective and healing power of the atmosphere. Spring is soft on the outside, but hard on the inside (olives and dates), reminding us of the life-sustaining power that emanates from the soil. Summer is soft throughout (figs and grapes), reminding us of our inextricable relationship with the Earth and the fullness of G-d's abundance that sustains the world. And autumn is tough on the outside with sweet fruit within (oranges, melons and avacados), which reminds us of the sweet fulfillment of harvest and the study of Torah--we must dig a bit to uncover the sweetness of the fruits of Torah.

Here is our table, set with the abundance of fruits we used in the Seder. The Pomegranite spice-box hangs from a tree shaped Havdalah candlabra. Since the Seder was done as the Seudah Shlishit (Third Meal) on Shabbat, we concluded the ritual with Havdalah, a ceremony for separation of the day of rest from the six days of work.



At the end of the Seder, we and our guests told the story of Honi ha-Maegel (Honi, the Circle-Drawer), who said: "Though I will not live to see the fruit of the carob trees I now plant, I plant them for those who will come after me." So we do not always see the fruits of our study and effort in our lifetime, but we must labor for those who come after us. As we ate our meal--Pizza made of whole wheat (another fruit of Israel) with cheese (milk) and vegetables, and our desert of honey (the land of milk and honey!), we talked seriously about the coincidence of the International Panel on Climate Change meeting in Paris and the conclusions they are soon to publish about it. We talked about the importance of having the moral strength to labor for those who will come after us. We all pledged to find a way to reduce our emissions in our families and to hound our government to find ways for us to do so as a nation.



After Havdalah, we had planned to plant parsley seeds in window gardens. In northern climes, there is often snow still on the ground, so it has become a custom to plant parsley, which will be ready to eat for the greens dipped in salt water at the Passover Seder. However, we got to talking about Global Warming, so we never did plant! N. and I will do it this week. We ended the evening by reading and discussing the following:

Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai taught: If you have a fruit-tree on your hands and someone says to you: Here is the Messiah. Go and finish planting your fruit-tree just the same, and afterwards go out and welcome the Messiah. (Avot d’Rabi Natan 31).

The Tree and the Mashiach by Danny Seigel

No matter what reasonable people or foaming enthusiastic youth tells you: that this messiah or that messiah is imminent –plant!

The Mashiach is in no rush.When you have planted down the last clods ofdirt, And watered your pines, your cedars,your gum trees and cypresses, he will still be wherever he is supposed to be,and more than happy to admire the sapling with you.

Messiahs don’t come to uproot things .

On the Nature of Discourse in Blog World

I like to read other blogs.

In the evenings, on days when I am free to do so, I like to sit down with a cup of tea (Licorice Spice, Hot, with Honey), and check out the homeschooling world of blogs. I really enjoy peeking into another person's world to see how they do what they do and to read about how they live their lives. I particularly enjoy reading blogs written by people from different walks of life who have different experiences than I could ever have and who have wisdom to offer that I would not experience otherwise.

Last night I checked in on a blog I have reading once or twice a week. It is written by a single, gay homeschooling mom who also runs a farm and lectures at a university. (I have not yet learned what she lectures about--I think it may have to do with animal husbandry). Anyway, I "tuned in" last night to see what she was thinking about lately. She had been discussing some controversial issues in her last few posts and she had posted a link to the blog of someone who had flamed her. I went to that link to see what that person had said. That person had well and truly flamed her--using generalities and personal attack in a way that has become sadly familiar to me on message boards and in certain parts of the blog world. As a consequence of this flaming, this woman wrote last night that she may be taking a break from the blog world for a little while. I will be sorry if she does because I was learning a lot from her. I had posted several comments to previous posts, and although I do not totally agree with her position, I hope I came across as someone who respects her arguments.

All of this has lead me to consider the nature of discourse in blog world. Actually, I've been thinking about the nature of controversial discourse in our culture in general. In 1992, while I was working in the Long Term Ecological Research Center's UNM campus lab, I was also exposed for the first time to right-wing talk radio. Some of the lab techs liked to listen to Rush Limbaugh--it seemed to be a sort of prurient interest on their part, as they had political views that were diametrically opposed to Rush Limbaugh's diatribe. I listened to several shows and was not impressed with what I heard. It was not that I disagreed with Rush on some issues, although I did, so much as that I was concerned about the way he handles disagreement. His response to any disagreement with his views amounted to blustering and name-calling. I rarely heard an argument that led to anyone actually thinking about an issue, and never did I hear an exchange that led to mutual respect at the end. At the time, I bought myself a walkman tape player to use when it was my turn to acid-wash glassware, and I ignored the issue.

Now, though, as I watch with dismay how the culture wars have played out, and how entrenched our political parties are in ideology and how unable our leaders are to cross the aisle and actually get something done about important issues, I wonder about the Rush Limbaugh effect. At present, on those occasions when I tune into our local talk-radio station (usually when I am driving and need to hear the traffic report), I have heard a number of different talk hosts who sound much the same as Limbaugh. None of them appear to be interested in real discourse on an issue nor are they interested in solutions. Rather they appear to be interested only in vilifying those they disagree with. They speak in generalities, insist loudly upon their own rightness in the face of contrary evidence, and assault the character of anyone who disagrees. There is no discourse in which citizens may examine issues and consider them in order to vote. Ideology triumphs over reason. Further, those who follow such ideologues most closely tend to suspend reason in order to be honored as "dittoheads" on the air.

A problem I see with this is that it has become acceptable in other realms--on the internet, on TV and even face-to-face. It has replaced the discourse that is vital to the health of the republic with something else. It has become acceptable to say to someone: "Since you are a Democrat/Republican/Gay/Christian/Jew/(fill in the blank), I don't have to listen to what you have to say and I already know what your position is on any issue and it must be wrong.

I think one reason for this state of affairs is that, with some exceptions, our schools have not taught two generations (now going on three!) the art of constructing a logical argument nor the art of identifying logical fallacies. To make it even worse, schools have not taught the majority of students the difference between the right to express an opinion and the need to demostrate the veracity of the opinion. (When I taught science, I had students insist that because they had the "right to an opinion" that meant that we all must accept that the opinion is right. It almost seemed as if they had no sense of reality outside themselves).

In any case, I think that as homeschoolers, we have a responsibility to learn the art of constructing a logical argument and to teach it to our children. We need to model and teach respect for others in how we listen and respond to them. And we need to make our portion of the blog world a place where many different people have a voice and receive a respectful hearing. One can disagree--respectfully. We could contribute greatly to the quality of discourse in this nation, and thereby to the strength of our United States (remember: Out of many, one), if we model respectful discourse among ourselves, and teach it to our children.

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Now, for something completely different!

Today, N. and I read about the Greek Olympics and about the battles of Marathon and Thermopylae. N. was fascinated with the story of the run of Phaedippides for reinforcements at the battle of Marathon. He made a picture of the runners and the Olympic torch. We put it on our timeline. While he was making the picture he keep saying: "Phaedippides, Phaedippides!" I think he really liked how the word rolled off his tongue and how it sounded to his ear. He may forget much about history, but I bet he does not forget about Marathon and Phaedippides!

N. also liked the poem that cqn be found on the stele at Thermopylae. He has repeated:

"Stranger, go tell the Spartans..." many times today. This is the fun part of teaching--when something we talk about really captures a student's imagination!

Falling Barometer: Just One of Those Days

Last night while our class was discussing the Brown v. Board of Education decision, it did it again! It started snowing. By the time I reached my truck after class, it was starting to stick. By the time I drove through the canyon and started up Via Sedillo, I was slipping and sliding. That part of the drive seemed surreal because the snowflakes appeared to be forming a tunnel in front of the windshield as I drove. I did not need my wipers!

This morning we woke up to an inch and a half, and Bruce decided to shovel the driveway path. He shouldn't have bothered, it has all been covered again as I write. This morning, though, there was a great deal of wind and the clouds were racing across the sky. We thought that it might be frontal weather indicating clearing, but, alas, it was only the storm front for a second wave of snow.

N. woke up with more energy today, but he was still coughing. He was not motivated to do any work, but I made him do some anyway. We read more of Coolidge's The Golden Age of Greece . He didn't mind that so much, because we cozied up on the couch under a down comforter (my Australian friend over at the Homeschooling Aspergers calls it a doona). Then I suggested he do a picture from the book and write a short explanation with it. He was not thrilled to do the picture, but he took his board into the living room and did it. I showed him how to lay out the caption: Title, date, short explanation. He waved me away and I went to prepare the next activity--Brain Engineering exercises--while he actually wrote the caption.
When I checked his work, he had run several words together and misspelled others. So I told him that he had to correct it. Oy vey iz mir! You'd think I'd asked him to go to work in the salt mines. He muttered that I was making him into a Helot (the Spartan term for slaves) and clattered his pencils around, giving me a truly thunderous mad face, as he did the corrections. (I am glad he remembered what a Helot was). He was mad at me all through the Brain Engineering exercises--which involved finding hidden pictures and identifying what is wrong in other pictures. He was still mad through the memory exercises that went with it. He was really mad when I started to fix lunch and asked him to fetch apple juice from the garage.

I admit it. I let his mood affect mine. I snapped at him and banged a few plates around myself. When I got a grip, I checked the barometer. Sure enough, it was falling...fast. It went down several hundreths of an inch in less than an hour. Kids are little barometers! I noticed that when I was teaching high school science--the whole class would suddenly become cranky in my chemistry lab, and I knew, with no window, that a low and a storm was coming in.
Come to think of it--I am a barometer, too. The sudden sense of frustration came to me from a sudden physical discomfort. The pressure change. As an adult, I am the one who had to identify the problem and deal with it--even though I really wanted to bang around more plates. So I forced myself to breath s-l-o-w-l-y in and out ten times. Then I explained to N. what was happening and showed him the barometer. I told him that I was sorry I snapped and that his behavior does affect others, as does the weather.

We ate lunch. We cleared up. I gave him some free time so that I could prepare for Neurobiology class. But I never did go to it. That falling barometer was a harbinger of more snow. It started snowing hard as I was getting into the truck. The temperature fell to right at freezing. I ended up pulling the notes off the class website, and by looking at the power point as well, I think I have a reasonably good understanding of Action Potential.

But I did take this picture this morning from the kitchen window. A raven was being blown before the rotating storm clouds. The bird very gracefully changed directions and moved across the flow of the wind. Beautiful. "To live with grace, to ride the swell, to yet be strong of will..." The balance can be difficult.

Connections and Freezing Fog

ALOHA! The 57th Carnival of Homeschooling is up over at the Palm Tree Pundit . Anne has put together some good reading about Connections for homeschoolers. Visit the carnival and make some connections .


Yesterday, after math and reading, N. came with me to my Neurobiology class because he had boy scouts soon after and I don't like to drive into town more than once. Gas is still pretty pricey and there's greenhouse gases to consider.


Here is a picture of N. relaxing in the new Domenici Medical Sciences Center before class. We went to the Medical-Legal Student Bookstore and found a really neat pen called the PenAgain. It is shaped so that you hold it correctly for neat writing and it reduces hand strain. They can't keep it in stock at the Medical School! Heh, heh.
I was going to buy one for N. and for me--we both have really messy handwriting--but unfortunately I left my purse in the truck. That was the first in a day of forgetting. After class, we went to Borders where we would meet DH and he would then take N. to Boy Scouts. But N. somehow left a bag with his scout uniform and book at Borders (or somewhere!) because by scouts he did not have it. GRRRRR!


Today N. is sick. A coughing, feverish, stuffed-up kind of sick and he has no energy to do anything. We are missing his science class at Explora! as I write. But I don't want to take him out. It is very cold here, and windy, and we have had a freezing fog over us all day.
I am having such a hard time getting us into a routine since the Bar Mitzvah and now that UNM has started up again. But if the kid is sick, he's sick! I will have to adjust and that's all!

I used the extra time today to clean up my office and get organized to study for a test next week in Neurobiology. The test will cover cellular organization of the brain, anatomy of the brain, membrane potentials, action potentials, electronus and propagation along axons, ion channels (in cell membranes), and sensory transduction. I have not taken a test like this in at least 10 years. I'm just a little nervous! I think the freezing fog has entered my brain!


I've got to go study and prepare for my Special Education Law class. I had to download a copy of the 14th amendment to the US Constitution and prepare a definition of justice. That class will not be too bad, although I can tell that I am starting with a different viewpoint about rights than are most of my classmates.

I wanted to close by showing a picture of one of our Juniper trees coated with freezing fog. We just don't get this kind of weather around here very often. This winter has been a bonus for us. And it is really beautiful! A fact of which I will remind myself as I scrape the truck to drive to class today.

Every day in winter during the Amidah (standing prayer), we praise G-d "who

causes the wind to blow and the rain to fall." If we change the word "rain" to "snow", we are getting exactly that. We are grateful for the El Nino and for the precipitation, even the freezing fog.

A Subtle Change in the Light

Yesterday morning when we took the dogs for a Shabbat walk up the ridge in front of our house, we saw the most amazing sight. Fog surrounded our mountains on three sides--covering Juan Tomas to the south, the Estancia Valley to the southeast and Mountain Valley to the North. We don't get a lot of fog here--so this was truly a time for us to "turn aside and see this great sight."
Above is the morning sun above the fog over Juan Tomas and the Estancia Valley.

We noticed something else as well. The light is changing. We are yet one week out from Groundhog's Day, which is the cross-quarter day between the Winter Soltice and the Vernal Equinox. The change in the quality of the light as well as the length of the day is becoming very noticable. The sun is rising about 20 degrees north of the winter solstice point.

It is still cold in the mornings and evenings.
Snow still covers the ground as it has for six weeks. But the light is stronger and is the unmistakable harbinger of the coming spring.
In the old calendar, next Saturday would be the beginning of spring. And we can feel it coming.
And the birds are singing in the mornings in the snowy woods now.
Next Saturday is also Tu B' Shevat--the Jewish New Year of Trees. I am planning a week of study surrounding that holiday culminating in a Tu B'Shevat Seder next Saturday afternoon. This is the first time in a number of years that I have felt excited about this minor holiday. I think that living up in the mountains now, and the real winter we are having, has contributed to my sense of the change of seasons.

One of the rewards of homeschooling is that we can turn aside to see the miracles that surround us everyday. We are not always hurrying. Hurrying to be "on time" according to someone else's schedule. When we were always hurrying due to being oversheduled, I am not sure we achieved more (which is the goal) and I know we often could not turn aside and see the great sights that lie right in front of us.

There is a midrash about the burning bush in Parashah Shemot. The midrash states that the burning bush had been present for anyone to see, but only Moses took the time to turn aside and "see" that the bush burned but was not consumed. If you think about it, noticing a bush on fire is something anyone might do. But it would take someone who had the patience to watch would see that it was not consumed.

I am so grateful we can take the time to notice the change in the light. The fog over the valley. Who knows if we will every see this sight again?

Above is South Mountain as seen from the Via Sedillo. The Mountain is up to her waist in fog.

A Day with the Brain

Yesterday was a good day for N.

In the morning, we did our usual routine--Shacharit (the morning prayer service), then math and critical thinking.

But after critical thinking, we had set up an internet conference with Dr. Cheri Florance in New York City. She is an audiologist who has developed techniques to help very visual people use verbal pathways effectively, so that they can be successful academically. She did this first to help her son Whitney, who had symptoms of auditory processing problems, hearing loss and autism. You can find her story in the book Maverick Mind if you want to know more about it. Click on the hyperlink to go to her website.

Anyway, Dr. Florance tested N. yesterday, giving him an Auditory-Visual Learning test and a Sound-Symbol Associator test. N. did stunningly well on both, indicating that he is very gifted using his visual pathway. The problem seems to be that he uses his visual pathway in ways to interfere with the use of his auditory sequential pathway, this creating problems for reading and other sequential tasks like organizing himself. We are working with Dr. Florance to teach N. how to use the best pathway for different tasks so that he can realize his great potential and become successful in academic environments.

It is interesting. N. carries a diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome (AS) which is a high-functioning form of autism. It is thought that some people with autism are extreme visual thinkers. This appears to be the issue for N. So he has difficulty communicating with people who are highly verbal in their patterns of thinking.

After the internet conference, N. went with me to my Neurobiology class. He goes with me on Wednesday because he has Machon (religious school) in the evening. This week, we met in the Gross Anatomy Lab, so that we could do a brain dissection and learn the major anotomical landmarks of the brain. N. was allowed in the Gross Lab--there were no cadavers out--and the professors were delighted to let him hold the brain and they answered his questions. N. noticed a lesion in the occipital lobe of the brain. The professor said: "See what happens when you eat too much candy! Just kidding--but this brain might have had trouble with processing vision." So N. learned that visual processing takes place in the occipital lobe. He told me later: "My occipital lobe must be very big--I am a visual learner!"

The other graduate students are determined to persuade him to become a neurologist.

The openess of the professors and other students to my son's questions is something that I deeply appreciate about science. When I taught science, I took a student to the Intel International Science Fair. There I saw internationally known scientists and Nobel prize winners on the floor with students in the exhibit hall, tracing pathways, drawing diagrams and having a great time discussing their field.

I imagine that my N. will become some kind of scientist or engineer. He is the son of a physicist and a biologist-turned-teacher, and the step-son of an engineer. His older sister, ML, spend her mid-school and high school years vehemently insisting that she would NOT be a scientist. NO WAY! She'd heard enough of that at the dinner table to last her a lifetime. She is now finishing a B.S. in Chemistry and she is planning to intern this summer at Sandia National Labs with an organic chemist as a mentor. She plans to go for the Ph.D. in Chemistry. You could say the lady did protest too much!

Some statistics show that a child of one scientist has about a 40% chance of going into science and a child of two scientists has a 75% likelyhood of going into science. It appears that certain ways of thinking have high heritability--probably due to differences in brain structure and function that we are only beginning to discover.

We had a great day with the brain yesterday!