Spring Just Keeps Coming! Our weekend.

Growing up in Georgia (especially those few years in SOWEGA), we had four seasons: Summer. Football. Winter (albeit a mild one).  And one glorious week of Spring, when all of the flowers and trees and bushes exploded with color and then we all got past it and moved into summer, which is where I remember us living for about six months of the year.

Not so here. In New Jersey we have four full-length seasons. Spring has been unfolding gently, with each day different--but in a subtle way (except for one of our trees. Yesterday morning I was pointing out a tree with baby leaves to the kids, and thought there might be white blossoms coming on it. By late afternoon it was all white lacy frothiness.)

This weekend, J was out of town. Earlier this week I asked a friend to pray for us about it; specifically I wanted to be a blessing to our kids.  She prayed for specific things like that I would be able to do fun things with them. Which was great. And, in my mind, a little above-and-beyond. Because when I said I'd like to bless my kids, what I meant was that I'd like to keep my temper and not be a control freak.

But whatever. Pray away. Fun times are a bonus.

We have had a splendid weekend.

On Friday, we finished up school and then one ninja suggested that we have an "art competition." They asked me for a theme ("April Showers Bring May Flowers,") and we were off. Mixed media. Sketching. Painting. Listening to Vivaldi's The Four Seasons. 

It was one of those idyllic homeschooling times that comes along just often enough to give you hope that they may show up again. Ebenezers of a sort. And so you keep at it.

Saturday morning [after cartoons] we headed out to find a park I had heard recommended. On the way there I pointed out a blooming tree. "Pink Tree!" I called.

The kids started CHEERING AND CLAPPING.

And so it went for the rest of the drive: looking for signs of new life, expecting to find it, and rejoicing together when we did. ("Yellow tree!") I hd the sense that we have all been waiting for this and yet have been completely powerless to bring it to be.

It is still Eastertide! So many miracles.

We found an awesome playground at the new park, and I wish I could adequately communicate what it felt like to sit in the sun and warmth when we have had so little of either for so long. It was eighty degrees, which we haven't seen in at least six months. It was blissful and bright.

After home and lunch, we dropped Pixie off at the church so she could rehearse for her upcoming solo/have a voice lesson. On our short drive home the rest of us passed the high school. There was a banner announcing a lacrosse match, so we stopped and watched because East Coast and we can. Honestly, the whole weekend seemed like a string of golden opportunities strewn before us (and mixed in with all of the messes and quarrels you might expect. But that's part of the point--those parts were expected; but so much more goodness came.)

Into the evening, we played outside in the idyllic warmth. The only thing missing was the fireflies.

But those are coming, oh yes. They will come. And we will watch and wait. For them, and for so much more.

Gettysburg

Last weekend, we went to Gettysburg.

There were many places I have wanted to play tourist and "take advantage of the proximity to" and suchlike while we are on the East Coast. Gettysburg has been in the top three. (I'll let Washington DC, Boston, and NYC battle it out for the other top two spots).  Getting to go was definitely a longing fulfilled.

J tracked down a highly-recommended audio tour (on CDs) that you play in your car; you listen as you drive and visit the various sites, and you can stop and get out whenever you like. It was AMAZING.

The kids were less enthused at the prospect, but we prepared with some really good snacks and there was peace and love (mostly). By the end they were saying things like, "That was INCREDIBLE!" and "Best day EVER!"

We decided to do Gettysburg as a day trip instead of an overnight: a long day, but possible. "Long Days" of travel involve J and I packing the van the night before, down to the breakfast doughnuts and DVDs for "Saturday morning cartoons." We rolled out early and hit the ground running in Gettyburg around 10:00.

We watched the movie of the battle they have in their theater. We all enjoyed the presentation of the cyclorama of the battle (I hadn't been to one of those since fourth grade.) The different parts of the battle were illuminated as the story was told.  The foreground was set so that real props exactly matched up with where the painting picked up, fence posts and all. Really Exciting.

There was also a museum--we spent a couple of hours there. There was so much to read about, so many fascinating artifacts, so many individual stories woven into this seemingly inevitable tragedy.

Still, the highlight for us was certainly the battlefield tour. We meant to do the "quick" version, but in the end we just couldn't cut any of the sites or stories. We spent about four or five hours, including our clambering and reading.

From the Confederate Line

North Carolina Monument: From this spot, Pickett's Charge

detail

It turns out that you are not permitted to climb on the cannons.

Monuments to people, regiments, and states lined the roads. Some marked specific locations of regiments during the battle.

This monument had a dog on the back; the ninjas had just heard about "Sallie," who traveled with a regiment of Federal troops and was lost during the battle. Three days later she was found guarding the bodies of the fallen from her regiment.

We were in Gettysburg on the weekend that fell between the 150th anniversary of the end of the Civil War and the 150th anniversary of Lincoln's assassination. Everything seemed so maintained and close that it was hard to believe so much time has passed.

Above: Robert E. Lee and Traveller atop the Virginia Monument. Since returning from Gettysburg, Pixie and Bud have had several conversations on the merits of Robert E. Lee. They (and we all) have had good talks about gifts, loyalty, context, training and resources. They see him as a hero, and I think that's about right.

One thing that I was curious to see before coming was how the South would be treated. The story of the Civil War is a complicated one that begs for simplification in its presentation; that simplification happens differently in different contexts. On the whole, I was broadly happy with the balance in the representation; if the Union soldiers were the heroes, the Confederates were tragic heroes. We are all Americans now. I am glad that the kids were able to parse out nuance and appreciate the Good where it could be found, on either side; and to begin to appreciate the pain and suffering that may accompany leadership.

We were able to climb a couple of high observation towers to get the lay of the land. It was windy!

We made our way around the battlefield to the Federal side, wending our way up to Little Round Top. It may have been too long since I had read The Killer Angels, but I remembered enough.

I tried to imagine being a Confederate soldier rushing up this hill; or an outnumbered Federal one trying to defend it. Terrible. But beautiful last Saturday.

As we headed back down from Little Round Top, more memorials. More stories. It would have been nice to hit Big Round Top; but that was accessible by trail only. There is lots of hiking that we didn't get to do, so if we ever return (and without a large contingent of Under-10s) we may do some more of that. But for where we are now, what we were able to do was perfect.

We ended our tour at the High-Water Mark of the Confederacy; we listened to a detailed description of events while sitting at the spot where they happened. The battle cries and cannon were all on our speakers; the actual location was quiet and windy. I just wept.

After that, there was only the cemetery to see.

I find that I am feeling sad and weighted just writing about the trip, as if by proximity. The terrible story combined with the peaceful beauty of the battlefield can be a wearing paradox. It reminded us all of the Normandy beaches. But it was great trip, and I am grateful.

PostScript: When J and I were dating, I remember driving north from Georgia to Philadelphia and we stopped to read some historical marker on the side of the road (I am always wanting to read those historical markers, and he knows, and is often stopping). Whatever the sign was about I don't remember. I only remember that it referred to "the Glorious Victory at Gettysburg." Are you kidding me? I was appalled. (We were obviously already north of the Mason-Dixon line at the time). Almost as many soldiers were killed, wounded or declared missing from the Battle of Gettysburg alone than during the entire Vietnam Conflict. Glorious? Sure, be glad you won--but glorious? No. 

Having visited the battlefield, though, I think I can accept the term if we throw out one of the American meanings of the word ("having striking beauty or splendor") in exchange for a Hebrew one for glory, כָּבַד, which can carry a sense of weightiness or heaviness. If that is the case, then I came away with the sense the the Battle of Gettysburg was glorious, indeed.

Spring is Here!

It's official. Our final snow was on March 20th--the first day of spring, and we got about three inches. One last snowy, winter-wonderland blast.

Snowdrops blooming in the snow.

New Jersey Cotton

In the two-and-a-half weeks since our last snow, we have watched the grass emerge from beneath its winter blanket. In the past two-and-a-half days, we have watched it turn green. Yesterday, suddenly, a tree budded out. Amazing.

Same tree.

Snow Drops sans snow

Since this isn't our own yard and we have never been here in spring, we have no idea what's going to come up next. J was the first to find some bulbs pushing up. Yesterday, some started blooming.

Hyacinth?

Today we had yet another marker of spring: the return of the frogs.

In all, there's a glorious picture of new life breaking through death: perfectly timed this year with Easter.

We had a delightful and comparatively quiet celebration here in our temporary home. The children were able to participate in not one but two Easter egg hunts--one in this huge yard, and one after the service at church.

Ready to go a-hunting

Here's Wombles, giddily pointing out one of Nutmeg's pink eggs. For the past several years we have color-coded the kids' eggs, meaning we can aim to vary difficulty in age-appropriate ways.

As usual, Caesar wanted little to do with the shenanigans.

For a few minutes in the midst, a bald eagle circled above our yard.

This year, we did not have our usual Easter seder meal. We celebrated more simply, with a feast but without a lot of trappings. We had the pleasure of hosting one of J's former students over the weekend, and he was a trooper about joining the boys in sports play when they asked (which was often). Sunday afternoon, he and Bud took on J and Wombles in football. One of the late plays in the game, fourth-(or more)-and long:

First Down!

I hope you had a wonderful Easter, and that wherever you are--even in those perennially warm sorts of places, like South Georgia and Southern California--you are able to have eyes wide open to spring and all of its messy and bright beauty.