O Captain, My Captain

Has it really been three weeks since I last posted something?  Man. . . I'm in a time warp.  Either that, or the fact that life isn't slowing down (like I keep hoping it will) at all around here (My mom came to visit - best week ever. Nate and I went to New Orleans - best weekend ever. Clayton turned 10 - best ten years ever. Lydia learned to crawl - finally!  Lydia learned to walk! (holding on to stuff), The Primary Program is over! - it was beautiful. We installed a basketball hoop - a real one. I got a bike and a double-bike trailer - Eliza and Lydia are just as excited! Eliza started neighborhood preschool - which gives me a few hours a week with just one in tow!  I started teaching preschool once a month - LOVE it.  Plus all the usual - piano, scouts, school, violin, gymnastics, speed class, soccer, church.)

But today, the big event was Isaac's timeline project (due. . . today), which he finished at the last minute (he was literally re-gluing sails at breakfast) and proudly carried to school this morning.  So cute. So Isaac. What a great life you've had!

Good job, Isaac!  All your hard work paid off!

Here are two of Isaac's favorite ship poems:

Sea Fever

by John Mansfield

            I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
           And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
           And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
           And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

            I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
            Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
           And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
           And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

           I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
           To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
           And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
           And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

The Ship That Sails

by Page Belnap

                                 I'd rather be the ship that sails
                                 and rides the billows wild and free;
                                 Than be the ship that always fails
                                 to leave its port and go to sea.

                                 I'd rather feel the sting of strife,
                                 where gales are born and tempests roar;
                                 Than settle down to useless life
                                 and rot in dry dock on the shore.

                                 I'd rather fight some mighty wave
                                 with honour in supreme command;
                                 And fill at last a well earned grave,
                                 than die at ease upon the sand.

                                 I'd rather drive where storm winds blow
                                 and be the ship that always failed
                                 To make the ports where it would go, 
                                 than be the ship that never sailed.