I'm sure I've blogged this before. Dear Val even has a name for it, though I can't remember her term. If I looked back I bet March and August would be good places to begin my search. It seems to happen in early spring and late summer (in the south.) These are the seasons of homeschool worry. When children get janglerangy, feeling trapped by weather, and their parents are beset with doubt. Tasks become a slog---dish, vacuum, laundry again?!  There is a whole lot more sleeping and reading going on and life takes on a dingy hue. "Is there more to life than laundry and vacuuming" becomes a sentiment intertwined with "Is my children's education duller than dishwater?"

Which is all resolved the first day you can run without shoes and nights find the windows open. Warmth magically relieves doubt. Air shimmers again with possibility, sparkle returns. That time is nearly here.

Nearly here is not the same thing as here, which is where we are. Now, being the current time. (Thank you Ram Dass.) I've basically forced myself and the kids to shiver-walk outside daily for at least a mile. That helps. Dear girl is finding solace in her closet--so much to sort, organize, and recombine. Dear boy, perhaps weary of a book a day, began Texas by Michener. Which may hold him a week. This would be a great time to enact a play, take on a VLPP (very large painting project), or plan that tiny house made of pallets I've always wanted to (see the kids) make.

Its also helpful to look more closely, to see through the hazy dullness. Yes, casually sitting around identifying the birds flying through your yard actually does count as life science. Conversations after seeing "Lincoln" do matter. Spending dedicated hours covering all your coat hangers to improve their functionality and aesthetic qualities is industrious as well as stimulating to the geo-spatial awareness part of your brain. And if you've spent the last forty-eleven-jangle-hours reading, taking a break to hurl a large ball through a high hoop is plain good for your soul.