Lift Up Your Hearts!

Article 1, Section 2 of the U. S. Constitution lays the groundwork for conducting a periodic census in order to provide proportional representation in the House of Representatives.

The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members chosen every second Year by the People of the several States.... Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons....

This was modified somewhat by the 14th Amendment, to wit (More)

It's not a topic I'd intended to blog about, even though I'd read the AP article, Top home-school texts dismiss Darwin, evolution.   But I wrote so much in a comment to a friend's Facebook post (thanks, Liz!), I figure it's a shame not to make a second use of the effort.

Our own homeschooling experience left me not particularly impressed with the efforts of specifically Christian publishers, beginning with the discovery that the A Beka kindergarten book I'd bought taught that winter is a time of snow, with no mention of the large part of the world where that isn't true.  I suspect most books at the kindergarten level are about as bad, but A Beka is based in Pensacola, Florida, and should have known better. (More)

Not that we're anywhere near January 1, but I seem to have begun a habit of making a new resolution on the 8^th of the month, so why not?

If you look at the three I've made so far, it does seem as if I'm working on a book entitled, 12 Joyful Resolutions that Will Change Your Life.  Maybe I am.  Happy resolutions are so much more fun to keep!   Not any easier, however, especially when, like this one, they are vague and not easily measurable.

I was casting around for the next resolution—in fact, I had a couple of others in mind—when this one came to me, out of the blue.  It's a good one, though.  For more than 25 years, any complaints I bring to a doctor have been met with two responses:  (1) you're getting older, and (2) you're under too much stress.  The former no resolution will help, but the latter bears examination.  It's not so much that my life is stressful—even when it was far more stressful than it is at the moment—but that I let it control me.  I react badly to stress, carrying it around in my mind and body, as anyone knows who has given me a shoulder massage.  My blood pressure is edging up, too—not a problem yet, but I don't want it to become one.  Perhaps when I was younger my body could handle these assaults, but—see #1 above.  So it's time to get a handle on stress:  to learn to relax. (More)

Homeschooling for the Rest of Us:  How Your One-of-a-Kind Family Can Make Homeschooling and Real Life Work, by Sonya Haskins (Bethany House, Minneapolis, 2010)

Sonya Haskins is a calm and reasonable voice speaking to the homeschooler—and potential homeschooler—who is overwhelmed and intimidated by the image of the "perfect" homeschooling experience:  "Matching outfits, polite toddlers, award-winning students, fifteen-passenger vans, and family Web sites."   (Raymond and Dorothy Moore did the same thing in the 1980s with Homeschool Burnout, which was updated and revised in the 1990s as The Successful Homeschool Family Handbook.)  There's a lot of hype, confusion, and contradictory information out there, and Haskins' practical, back-to-basics approach and helpful suggestions will reassure timid beginners that they can, indeed, safely navigate the homeschooling waters. (More)

Ralph Vaughan Williams:   Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis
Mozart:   Concerto No. 1 for Flute in G Major, K. 313 (285c)
Dvorak:  Symphony No. 7 in D minor, op. 70

The Orlando Phil's own Colleen Blagov proves once again my thesis that we don't necessarily need big-name performers at big-name prices.  Perhaps I'm not as picky/knowledgeable with flute as with strings, but I say she did a lovely job on the Mozart concerto.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (Walt Disney Pictures, 2003, PG-13)

I realize I'm seven years behind most of the rest of the country in watching this movie, but at last I understand why our nephews love it so much.  Maybe it's another example of the value of low expectations, but I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a movie so much.  Just pure fun.  Probably not grandchild material yet, but I wouldn't rate it worse than PG myself.

Sure, it's as unrealistic as Indiana Jones, and they break the rules of physics, biology, history, and more, but it's easy to suspend disbelief because it's not pretending to be real, or true to a book I love.  It's plain fun, like the Disney Pirates of the Caribbean ride that inspired it.  Perhaps the ride is one reason I enjoyed the movie so.  Having had virtually unlimited access to the Disney parks when the kids were growing up, we became very familiar with this ride, and catching references to it in the movie is more fun than finding hidden Mickeys in the parks.  The music is great, too.

We missed having Janet around, though.  She would have told us in the beginning, "Hey, that guy played Legolas in The Lord of the Rings," whereas we only figured it out when the credits scrolled by.

I had to watch it, since my genealogical organizations, websites, and contacts kept bringing it to my attention:  NBC's new genealogy show, Who Do You Think You Are?  My reactions?  Mixed.

Each week, apparently, the show will present an investigation into the family history of one person.  Supposedly these are famous people; I haven't heard of any of them, but that helps me concentrate on the data, which I find more interesting anyway. (More)

Beer, bread, cheese...and now musical instruments.   Jan Swafford's recent Slate article, In Search of Lost Sounds, mentions that in Europe, artisanal craftsmen are creating reproductions of period instruments for those interested in more flavors than the standardized, homogenized, modern sound.  This comes as no surprise, since Janet owns at least three such instruments.

The article is long, and some of my readers will be tempted to skip it, but please don't.  Skip the text if you wish, but don't miss the recorded excerpts, which are Flash objects that I can't reproduce here.  Hear Beethoven, Brahms, and Debussy on the pianos of their day, and compare the sound to the same music on today's instruments.  Whichever you like best, you'll agree that the older instruments have a different and often exciting flavor.  (They also occasionally sound out of tune to me, and I'm wondering if it's my ears, the recording, or a different tuning of the pianos—though I thought equal temperament tuning was common by Beethoven's time.) (More)

Saint Patrick, by Jonathan Rogers (Thomas Nelson, Nashville, 2010)

This new biography of the man whose feast day we celebrate this month is part of Thomas Nelson's Christian Encounters series.  I was pleasantly surprised by the intellectual seriousness of this book, which I had expected to take a light and popular approach.  It is certainly accessible, and short—just over 100 pages of text, plus appendices and notes—but packed with what little definitive information there is about this 5^th century saint.

Although legends about St. Patrick abound, all that we truly know of him is deduced from two documents, written by Patrick himself later in life.  Translations of both are included in the appendices.  Rogers weaves together passages from these texts with cultural and historical background information to create a picture of both the man and his times. (More)

Three Cups of Tea:  One Man's Mission to Promote Peace...One School at a Time, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin (Penguin Books, New York, 2007)

Greg Mortenson, the son of missionary parents, had a happy childhood in Africa, but his return to the United States as a teenager was rough, and it took him a long time to find his way.  As he tells it, it took a dramatic failure to lead him to his calling—but I disagree that someone has failed who has not succeeded in climbing the infamous K2 because he expended too much time and energy rescuing a climber in distress.  Whatever you call it, from that point in 1993 on, Mortenson's energies would be spent on a different form of rescue:  building schools and promoting education, especially for girls, in the remote, impoverished villages of Pakistan and Afghanistan.  Mortenson was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 2009; even President Obama's most enthusiastic supporters cannot read Three Cups of Tea without entertaining a doubt or two as to the wisdom of the Nobel Committee's final choice.  (The Nobel Committee overlooked Gandhi, too, so their peculiar judgement is not without precedent.) (More)

National Treasure (Walt Disney Pictures, 2004, PG)

I may have discovered the secret of enjoying movies:  low expectations.  All I had known about National Treasure was that it had something to do with a puzzle in American history, and when I learned that it was instead more along the lines of The Da Vinci Code, I wanted nothing to do with it.  My knowledge of history is shaky enough as it is—the last thing I need is another set of false "facts" cluttering up my brain, a la Braveheart and Amadeus.  But I was assured the movie is so unbelievable that would not be a problem, and indeed that I probably wouldn't like it because of the great, glaring impossibilities.

So, armed with that knowledge, I really did enjoy the movie, in the same way that I enjoyed Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Once you know it's ridiculous, it's actually funny. They even got some of the history right.

Between the two of us, we guessed a lot of the plot and even some of the lines, but the movie is about a puzzle so that only added to the enjoyment.  And I always like seeing places I know, like Philadelphia's Franklin Institute and Independence Hall.

The rating is PG, but I didn't find anything that would make me issue a granchild warning—in fact, it reminded me of the McGuyver shows they like so much.

What drives spam?  Money, obviously.  And sin.  Sin on both ends:  the sin of greed on the part of the spammer, and the sin that the spammer is hoping will entice his victim to throw money his direction.  Spam, therefore, may be a diagnostic tool, an x-ray scan revealing the broken and diseased places of our society.

If the spam that hits this blog (and is mostly filtered out before you see it) is any measure, the sickest area of our society is sex, although that observation is a bit like peering at an x-ray and announcing that the patient's leg is broken when anyone can see the jagged bone protruding from the flesh.  Porn of the worst kind, body part enhancements, "performance" drugs:  "greed meets lust" is a terrible combination. (More)

Someone else posted an enthusiastic link to Michael Hyatt's Do You Make These 10 Mistakes When You Blog?  That I am not so enthusiastic is probably due to having a serious problem with the first sentence, which reads, 

Assuming you want to increase your blog traffic, there are certain mistakes you must avoid to be successful.

After reading Hyatt's article I realized that not only do I make several of the mistakes, but I often make them on purpose.  That's when I realized the real problem:  I'm not convinced I want to increase my blog traffic. (More)

A Journal of the Plague Year, by Daniel Defoe (New American Library, New York, 1960)

I first read this as a requirement for school, I believe, though I remember nothing of it, not even the grade I was in.  It has long been my theory that many schoolteachers take good books and make them boring, either by being bored themselves, or by presenting the books to students who don't have enough life experience to appreciate them.  A Journal of the Plague Year is proof that some required books don't need any pedagogical interference to be boring.

The plague in question is the Great Plague of London in 1665.  Defoe had been born about five years earlier, and wrote the Journal in 1722.  It is a work of fiction, but written in such detail and with so much obvious research that it is impossible to tell where history ends and fiction begins. (More)

Jamie Oliver, a British chef, is apparently a big hit in Europe.  (Perhaps here, too; that I had never heard of him doesn't mean a lot.)  He has cooking shows, a Tupperware-style home party business, and has taken on school meals in England and the eating habits of an entire West Virginia city.  I find his flamboyant style annoying, and some of his information dated or controversial (e.g. demonizing saturated fat without mentioning the more problematic trans fats), but there is still plenty worth watching.  (H/T Janet)

Grandchild warning.  Forty-five years ago, my British-born Girl Scout leader explained to us some of the differences between the US and the UK when it comes to acceptable and unacceptable language.  Some words considered normal here were horribly offensive there, while certain words for bodily functions were unacceptable here but commonplace there.  She tried to clean up her language in deference to her adopted country, but sometimes slipped—hence the explanation.  Oliver's videos are best watched without grandchildren in the room.

Oliver's TED lecture on teaching children about food and good eating habits.  He's not a great speaker in this context, but I like the format better than the other videos.  He's a little too inclined to look into non-personal (i.e. government and business) solutions, but an important message nonetheless.  If nothing else, this one's worth it for the clip at 11:16 where he asks schoolchildren to identify foods in their natural state—and they are baffled by tomatoes and potatoes.