Henry, the Lonely Red Truck

Yesterday, as I walked the dogs, our meadow looked like this. It was a frozen fog, which brought an end to our week of "normal" weather. February in NM is generally cold at night, warm in the day, sunny and dry.


I had my weekly conference call with Dr. Florance in New York at 8:30 yesterday morning and I had planned for N. to do a mixed practice page for math and then play a bit with the Microsoft Powerpoint (TM) program because we are getting ready to make a slide show to document his progress with Brain Engineering. But N. was not feeling well--he is having a really hard time shaking this crud he's had, so instead he was curled up in the recliner, reading Theras and His Town. I am beginning to wonder if we are ever going to get into a routine like the one we had before Channukah and Bar Mitzvah!


All morning and into the afternoon, the Fog hung on but the snow warnings were coming from everywhere. I had to decide whether to go to my Special Education Law class by 3 PM. No snow--so I drove into town having given N. strict instructions to: 1) under no circumstances go outside (that fog was bone chilling and cough producing); 2) watch a history chanel DVD about the real Troy, and 3) call me if it started snowing and the snow started to cover the driveway. In town, it was 45 degrees v. our 26, but there was a nasty wind blowing. No snow there. However, just as I was unpacking my notebook, my cell phone buzzed. It was N. It was snowing at home, he told me. I'd better come home.


But...Darn! I'd just got there and it was a once per week class--which meant I'd be missing a whole lot. So I called Bruce at his work and asked him when he was going to head home. He said that he would in about 15 minutes. So I told him: Call me when you get into the canyon if it is bad and you think I should head home. Then class began--and the prof handed out the homework handout right away, "in case the weather should give out on us." I had a hard time paying attention as I kept looking out the window at the mountains. Were the clouds lowering? Was it just my imagination?


Just as we got into discussing the statute IDEA 2004 section 614 (on assessment) and comparing it to the NMAC (state regulations) on the same issue, my phone buzzed again (I had it on vibrate). I slipped into the hallway to answer. It was my dear Bruce, and he told me that it was very windy in the canyon and that the snow was blowing around a bit. He thought that I had better head home right away. But--as I got back into the classroom, it appeared that we were wrapping up the discussion on the assessment part of IDEA--and it was interesting. So what harm would there be in going on just a few more minutes.


I imagine you can see where this is going...It was 5:35 before I left--a full hour after Bruce had called me. I thought to myself: I have at least 40 minutes more of daylight, if I get going I will get up our road before it is fully dark. So I fired up Henry, the big, red truck. But...I got onto I-40 and the traffic was very slow. Although I exited at the next exit, that took time. Then I had to go through city streets during rush hour to get back on the freeway further east. By the time I was entering Tijeras Canyon, the wind was very strong and the road was slippery. So I decided to get right back off again and take Old 66 through the canyon. It was snowpacked, but being lower than the freeway, the wind was not a problem. And it was a good thing I got off, because the radio announcer said that an east bound tractor-trailer had hit the guard rail, slid across the highway, crossed the center rail and overturned in the west-bound lanes. The traffic on the freeway was stopped in both directions! But 66 was very slick and it was all I could do to travel at 25 mph with my right tires in snow on the shoulder.


It was full dark when I turned on our road, which seemed okay until the first hill. It was very icy with blowing snow, and I had to go slow, but I started sliding on the hill. But I made it up that one. However, the next hill, steeper yet defeated me--I got half-way up and started to slide and had to stop. There was no going forward. Luckily, a neighbor in a 4WD SUV, helped me back it carefully into the ditch (so I could get it out) and then drove me up to get Bruce. We brought 6 40lb. bags of pellet stove fuel to put in the back. But Bruce could not get it up the hill, either. Poor Henry, just did not make the grade! So Bruce backed my truck down 2/10s of a mile to a side road that was level. We parked Henry in a pull-out just down that road, locked the doors and our neighbor brought us back home. It was snowing fast and furious by the time we got home last night!

Poor Henry! Abandoned for the night on Alta Vista road!

I am not sure if N. learned anything yesterday--but I did! If I should be in class during another storm warning, I will go home at the first

This morning, we woke up to 10 inches at 6 AM and it was snowing steadily. I checked the closings and delays while Bruce called the NWS to give a spotter report. Sandia was having a three hour delay--so we went back to bed. Bruce made an executive decision at that point that today was a full snow day for him. (The snowplow did not arrive 'til afternoon).

When I took the dogs out at 7:30 we had 11.5 inches of snow on the ground. I measured it in the driveway. I guess we'll not be parking there for a while!
The dogs and I broke trail to the main road, where we walked in already filling tracks of our neighbors 4WD F-250. At 8 AM, when I measured as we came home, we had 12 inches.
By about 11 AM, the snow was slowing down and N. measured 14 inches. We called the spotter hotline at NWS to report our total.

We have plans to rescue Henry tomorrow because it was beginning to clear up and we thought a little sun tomorrow would mean less digging.

Weather Bug just informed me that a new wave of storms was moving south from the northern mountains. We can expect at least two more inches tonight.

Poor Henry! Still stranded. Above you can see Bruce's Nova. Buried.
And all alone. No Henry beside her. Sigh.

Tomorrow: Henry's Rescue.

Ho, Hum! Another Storm Warning

At first it was fun but now it is getting tiresome.
Hello, El Nino!

Today as I was listening to a lecture on Synaptic Processes: An Introduction, my cell phone buzzed. (I had it on vibrate). Turns out it was a National Weather Service Urgent Message:


NMZ001>021-026-131300-NORTHWEST PLATEAU-NORTHWEST MOUNTAINS INCLUDING JEMEZ-UPPER RIO GRANDE VALLEY-SANGRE DE CRISTO MOUNTAINS-NORTHEAST HIGHLANDS-HARDING COUNTY-FAR NORTHEAST PLAINS-WEST CENTRAL MOUNTAINS-MIDDLE RIO GRANDE VALLEY/ALBUQUERQUE METRO AREA-SANDIA/MANZANO MOUNTAINS-CENTRAL HIGH PLAINS/ESTANCIA VALLEY-CONCHAS LAKE/GUADALUPE COUNTY-QUAY COUNTY-SOUTHWEST MOUNTAINS/UPPER GILA REGION-LOWER RIO GRANDE VALLEY-LINCOLN COUNTY HIGH PLAINS/HONDO VALLEY-CAPITAN/NORTHERN SACRAMENTO MOUNTAINS-DE BACA COUNTY-CHAVES COUNTY PLAINS-ROOSEVELT COUNTY-CURRY COUNTY-GUADALUPE MOUNTAINS OF CHAVES COUNTY-
TUESDAY THROUGH SUNDAY: YET ANOTHER WET WEATHER SYSTEM WILL BRING PRECIPITATION TO MOST OF NORTH AND CENTRAL NEW MEXICO STARTING TUESDAY AND CONTINUING THROUGH WEDNESDAY OR WEDNESDAY NIGHT. THIS WILL BE A LITTLE COLDER SYSTEM INTHE WEST AND QUITE A BIT COLDER FOR THE EAST...SO MORE SNOW THAN RAIN WILL BE THE RULE. IT CURRENTLY APPEARS THAT THE AREAS MOST LIKELY TO RECEIVE THE MOST SNOWFALL WILL BE NEAR AND NORTH OF THEINTERSTATE 40 CORRIDOR BETWEEN TIJERAS AND TUCUMCARI. REMEMBER THAT WEATHER CAN CHANGE VERY RAPIDLY. ALWAYS USE THE LATEST FORECASTS...WATCHES AND WARNINGS FOR PLANNING PURPOSES..SPOTTER INFORMATION STATEMENT...SPOTTERS ARE ENCOURAGED TO REPORT SNOWFALL AMOUNTS THROUGH THENATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE ALBUQUERQUE WEB SITE OR BY CALLING1.888.386.7637.

Apparently, we are to get more snow. We live two miles from I-40 in the corridor between Tijeras and Tucumcari. Sigh. We are weather spotters so I guess I will have something to do while we are snowbound once again.

We are finally able to drive all the way to the garage door on our steeply sloped drive. That just happened on Saturday because it rained. Well. I just hope I do not have to miss class tomorrow.

The Problem with Books that Matter

Wow! I haven't taken an exam for a grade in a science-oriented class for over 15 years.

I studied pretty hard for my Neurobiology exam, but I had a few problems. Seems my old brain just does not want to hang onto nouns like my younger brain did. There were several questions for which I found myself describing structures or processes, but I could not get my brain around the correct term!! At one point, my professor must have thought I was nuts, because I was putting my hands on my head at the appropriate places to name the 4 lobes of the cortex. They are named for the bones of the skull--and I was touching them on my head as I wrote them down. There was one question about a patch clamp experiment that I just did not get! That was the worst part. I just hate that. But one thing 15 years has done--I did not immediately think of dropping the class. What I thought was: "Damn! I really want to know how to answer that question I did not get!" I really want the information, not the grade.

I guess there is something new in my aging brain.

I have been reading John Taylor Gatto's Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum of Compulsory Schooling. The truth is, I ordered the book a long time ago-- before Rosh HaShannah. Someone had said I would be interested in the power of Gatto's ideas about schooling. But I did not read it then--one review on Amazon made it sound like Gatto is a communist and that, although the book was valuable, the reader should know where he was coming from. So, I did not read the book right away. I thought maybe I'd wait because the last thing I wanted to read was a polemic driven by ideology--any ideology. I finally picked up the book last week. And I was completely blown away. Gatto does not appear to be a communist--if anything, I'd say he's a communitarian. But he is not an ideologue. He tells the truth about schools as I experienced them when I taught. And he had the guts to do so when accepting an award as the New York State Teacher of the Year 1990 and 1991.

I am currently reading the essay entitled "We Need Less School, Not More." In the first part of the essay, Gatto spends a number of pages differentiating between community and pseudo-communities he calls networks. He ennumerates a number of important differences between the two. He says at one point:

"Networks ...don't require the whole person, but only a narrow piece.

If...you function in a network, it asks you to supress all the parts of your-

self except the network interest part...In exchange, the network will

deliver efficiency in the pursuit of some limited aim. This is in fact a

devil's bargain, since on the promise of some future gain one must sur-

render the wholeness of one's present humanity." (p. 48)

He also writes:

"Networks do great harm by appearing enough like real communities to

create expectations that they can manage human social and psychological

needs. The reality is that they cannot...With a network, what you get at

the beginning is all you every get. Networks don't get better or worse; their

limited purposes keep them pretty much the same all of the time." (p. 53)

He has a different idea about true blue community, however:

" A community is a place in which people face each other over time in all

(emphasis in original) their human variety: good parts, bad parts and all

the rest. Such places promote the highest quality of life possible--lives of

engagement and participation. This happens in unexpected ways...An example

might clarify this. Networks of urban reformers will convene to consider

the problems of homeless vagrants, but a community will think of its vagrants

as real people, not abstractions. Ron, Dave or Marty, a community will call

its bums by their names. It makes a difference." (p. 51).

As I was reading this, I was thinking about the current wave of "political correctness" that has siezed many of our institutions, public and private. Namely, to call every association of people for any imaginable purpose a community. We talk about our "school communities," our "neighborhood communities" and our "religious communities." And yet, as Mark Twain so wryly put it: "Saying so don't make it so!" In our "school communities," teachers and principals are often so busy trying to protect a false image, that we dare not even tell ourselves the truth about what goes on there. Schools are places where people are made to compete for grades and are clearly defined as winners and losers based on the outcome of tests. In our "neighborhood communities," we often don't even know the names of our next door neighbors and bums are strictly not allowed by covenant.

I do not think for a minute that some ubiquitous "they" has done this for insidious purposes in order to fool us. No, I think we are so hungry for something real that we use the equivalent of "new speak" in order to convince ourselves that we have something we really do not have.

(Remember 1984? Hate is love? Slavery is freedom? etc.).

And I am wondering about this need to name a particular institution in my life a "community." This institution has very high ideals but seems unable to apply them when dealing with real people where the "rubber-meets-the-road." Many of us who are members have little say about decisions that appear senseless and even downright cruel. And, although we talk about this among ourselves, many of us feel powerless to express our concern. In the recent firing of a staff member who was brought across the country less than a year ago for the job, members were informed after the fact and the firing was abrupt. (The person was gone within hours of firing. I was a volunteer under this person and had no clue as what had happened until the following week when she was not there).

The culture of this organization seems to discourage self-examination in order to right wrongs and do better. In fact, this one little cruelty has happened several times before. We do not "face each other over time in all of our human variety..." And yet the membership is encouraged to think of this as "community."

What is interesting is that I have always had a gut reaction when the leadership of this instutution has insisted on calling it a "community." I really want to believe that this is what I am part of, and what I am giving heart and soul and volunteer hours to--as they say, "De Nile ain't just a river in Egypt". But my gut knows better. And I am really wrestling with whether our family should remain affiliated with this organization or not. There are many benefits to being a member and there are opportunities to form real friendships with people that we meet there.

But one thing I do know--it is time to acknowlege to myself at least, that this is not a community. It is a network. It is an affiliation of people based on a narrow slice of their full humanity. The person that was fired, for example, was seen as a job-title (an abstraction) and the human concerns that come with migrating across the country, leaving home and family, dealing with a new culture and even a new climate, were clearly not taken into consideration or she would have been given much more time to integrate and to demonstrate her ability to participate.

Gatto says:

[A network] "is a place where men, women and children are isolated

according to some limited aspect of their total humanity...if performance

within these narrow confines is conceived to be the supreme measure of

success, and if the worth of the individual is reckoned by victory or

defeat in this abstract pursuit,...it will certainly dehumanize [them]." (p. 56)

This person of whom I speak is a very human person. She was concerned with N.'s heart and his soul, and she did not see him as an abstraction. To her, he was clearly an individual and his needs mattered. And yet, as a member of this network, I find it difficult to speak up about that, because I know that my own role there is seen by the organization as a whole as narrowly as hers was. In short, I am sure that I will not be heard. And to not speak up is an abdication of my own humanity and a refusal to recognize the humanity of this woman and of the people who fired her. I guess this means I need to be thinking about how to speak up in order to maximize my chances of being heard.

This is the problem with books. If you take them seriously, you have to act.

Thinking Outside the Box: Unschooling Jewish Learning

This year, N. has been attending a seventh grade class for religious education in a synagogue program called Machon.

The problem for him is that the class consists of 27 students sitting down to take notes from a power-point outline as the teacher lectures. This goes on for an hour and fifteen minutes. Although the teacher addresses several different topics during this time, these transitions are verbal only, and the students do not do any activities that would reinforce what is being taught. There is a quiz over the last weeks material given verbally at the beginning of every class. In short, if you wished to design a class that would frustrate and overwhelm a child with Asperger Syndrome and Central Auditory Processing Disorder, this one would win a prize.


At the beginning of the year, after N. had attended one class and come home in a melt-down state, I met with the teacher and requested accommodations for him using methodology more compatible with visual learning. The teacher does not get it. He told me that the outline in powerpoint constitutes a visual intervention. (Reading off a screen is still reading and is a primarily auditory activity. Writing alphabetic language is still auditory). He is also overwhelmed, I think, with 27 students and no pre-developed materials to use for them. He then demanded that I attend the class, too, and make sure that N. takes notes. I did at first but two problems quickly developed. One was that N. became isolated from the other students and the other was that he really did not want me to be there. I talked to the Director of Education, who had formed a relationship with N., and she agreed that the situation was not good. However, she did not feel that she could ask the teacher to change his style. So we have been driving into town once a week for N. to go to a class that is overwhelming to him. He comes out agitated and frustrated and it takes several hours to calm him down when we come home before he can sleep. This is turn is disrupting his learning the next day.


You may ask: What is the purpose of this exercise in frustration for all of us? Believe it or not, it has taken me until now (February) to ask myself that question. I have been inside this particular box: We want a Jewish education for N. He has committed to continuing his Jewish education post-Bar Mitzvah until a Confirmation ceremony at the end of grade 10. In order to have a confirmation ceremony, he must attend the synagogue program. It took me until last night to really assimilate a confusion in my thinking. Is the goal Confirmation? Actually, the goal is Jewish learning. Just as the Bar Mitzvah ceremony is a symbol of the attainment of a certain status (adult in the community) by demonstrating certain skills (lead a service, give a sermon, publically read Torah), so is Confirmation a symbol. It is not the goal--it is a symbol of attainment of the goal. The goal itself is that N. continue his Jewish learning. (The unschoolers reading this are probably saying: Well-Duh! We we wondering when you were going to get it!).


N. is committed to continuing to learn Judaism--and that is a life-time pursuit. He has many questions and wants to be able to do many things. The problem is not his motivation--it is in the structure of the classes he must attend in order to be allowed to have a Confirmation ceremony. But if Confirmation is not, in itself, the goal, then we can get out of the box that has become a problem for N.'s learning. The purpose of Jewish education is ultimately to live a Jewish life. That means Torah study, observance of Shabbat and Holy Days, and participation in the life of the synagogue. Confirmation is meaningless if it leads away from this goal rather than toward it. If we continue to put N. in a situation that is exceedingly frustrating to him and that does not further the goals listed above, then we are actually inhibiting his ability and desire to practice Judaism.


Once I came to this realization, a little thought and a 15-minute discussion with DH was all we needed to come up with other ways to meet these goals that are more compatible with N.'s learning differences. N. is already one of the few students in his Machon class that regularly observes the in-home rituals for Shabbat and Holy Days. He also prays the morning service each day, laying t'fillin, which is extremely uncommon among Jews who affiliate with Reform institutions. So the goal of Shabbat and Holy Day observance is being met.


Torah study takes place as part of our in-home Shabbat observance, too. However, N. needs the cross-fertilization of ideas to be found in study with others. Therefore, we are going to do two different things. One is to commit to attending Shabbat morning synagogue services on a more regular basis than we have been lately. The other is for him to participate in a small Torah study group for boys 13 - 15 years old that happens bi-monthly on Sunday mornings at another synagogue in town. N. found out about this from the rabbi there because he called this rabbi to ask a question. (One problem with our synagogue is that it is so programmed and professionalized and clergified that it is difficult to just call and ask a question. I guess this is what the president of the congregation meant when she discussed a "systems synagogue approach" last year. We are underwhelmed by it). This will also cause him to participate in the life of the community in meaningful study and discussion. The only other issue we need to resolve is how to have participate in the community through just being there. We think that if we can find a way for him to do something useful at the synagogue this might be a way for him to learn through service to the community. Didn't some actor once say that half of life is just being there? We want to find a way for him to "be there" for informal learning. (My own connection to the synagogue comes because I am a volunteer adult education teacher and because I show up to services that are needed in the community--to be "a body" for a Shiva service, for example, so the mourners can pray at home). This kind of participation is about being a Jew and learning through that process.


I have not quite given up on Confirmation, even though I have changed my perception of it's purpose. I am stepping out on a limb by requesting an alternative religious education program for N. due to his learning disabilities. This will largely be what I outlined above, but can grow and evolve because N. will participate in tweaking it to meet his needs. I am hoping that by having N. document his participation in these various activities and reflecting upon them, he will be allowed to demonstrate his continued Jewish learning and thus be allowed to participate in Confirmation. At the same time, now that I have articulated for myself the purpose of a ceremony like Confirmation, I do not see it as intrinsic to the goals outlined above for being a Jew. It is a nice marker, but it is not the thing itself. (Confirmation is not even a normatively Jewish ceremony--it was developed as a religious graduation ceremony in the Reform movement and was originally intended to replace Bar Mitzvah, which the early reformers wished to remove for a number of reasons). So, if we cannot come to an agreement on the alternative program, then we will have to forgo Confirmation.


It isn't always easy to venture outside the box. But the well-being of N.'s spirit demands that we cross some boundaries. After all, the original word for our people, Ivri means "boundary crosser."

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!