The one is now very nearly the same height as the other. Jinkies! Have another glass of milk, kid. 

What about that most American of mentalities which says we must keep doing things in a productive active showy way? I feel so relentlessly driven by my failure to do this. My failure? Really? Because I'm quite proud of and satisfied by the things I have managed to get done. But these things are past and therefore lacking the sweet tang of current pressing consequence. Peering into my chattering mind, it would seem that what truly matters is totting up a list of things to point at and say I am doing or am about to do.

Which, ouch, is the same mentality that has driven our homeschooling experience. Inside my deepest secret heart is a feeling we aren't haven't and don't do enough. My lists of what gets done, often blogged--in fact, of which the blogs exactly are, make no matter at all. The deep impulse is to constantly be driving forward into a list of Things Accomplished, a personal and American conflagration with driving constantly forward into the flow of now and here.

The ferocious reality is, beyond taking responsible care of our realistic physical needs, there are no things. There is only the expression of love and failure to love. Taking care of realistic physical needs with great love is the only success available. The signal flag of this kind of success is contentment, calm, and a gentle sort of pleasant mild happiness which has no need of lists nor pride nor gain.

We keep being here breathing, needing to eat, and creating decay all the days till we stop breathing. Its so easy to argue that this is easy to say, facile. What housewife, well fed, wouldn't decide there is nothing more important than cooking and cleaning with a deep and genuine love? But in the end, those words---almost all the chattering-mind words, don't matter. They don't change the nature of reality. We have only the responsibility to attend reality with love.

Really, I should scrub toilets with great love? Don't be silly. We only need to be simple and grateful and cheerful about all this decay and sorrow. Because that's what is here. All the rest: fanciness, wealth, accomplishment, any stuff, all that is just currency to spend on our ability to be kind, to enjoy ourselves, and to be loving in a responsible way.

Dear Girl found a Luna Moth yesterday. We love these creatures and I've noticed several of my neighbors posting about sightings on facebook. We must be in a healthy moth area. Or maybe we're having good moth weather? Or, hopefully, they are on the rise. Apparently they used to be common but are now endangered in some areas.

31 Things I'd Have Told Myself Before College I could pull several points out of this essay and relate them to my children and to unschooling. In fact, this little essay, though written by a person who went to institutional school, reads more like an unschooling manual. Better my children pull out their own points of spark and cogitation for themselves.

For me, right now, fear resonates: 27. Do things that make you speechless. If at any time you're perfectly able to articulate your stage in life, then you're not moving fast enough. “Fear is a compass pointing true north;” trust the compass.

Fear resonates in balance with wisdom from my friend CC: remember to give yourself permission to enjoy your life as best you can. Contrary to the message of both my and my husband's childhood, life is not an endurance test. Its okay to love as much, delight as much, rest as much as you can. And take the easiest path possible, within the context of your own True North, whatever that may be. 

A few months ago my husband announced his intention to start birding again. In his early 20s, after moving from New Mexico to attend Warren Wilson College, he took up birding. When we started dating, a lot of our dates revolved around birds and being outside. He had a poster of a Loon on the wall of his room back in those days. He badly wanted to see a Loon but never had---not even after all those summers working trail crew for the Appalachian Mountain Club up north. Never had until today. 

A Loon is hanging out on a pond at a local park near downtown. No one knows why. It certainly shouldn't be here. But it is and when my husband heard about the Loon, he jumped in the car, drove over there, and there it was. One of the things he likes best about birding is that if you go, other things happen--seeing other wildlife, finding your true love, having unexpected adventure, one never knows. Today while viewing the Loon he also got to see a mama Wood Duck with five babies. Normally Loons and Wood Ducks are quite shy. 

Credit for both images: K. Grigg, a colleague who was also Looning this morning. I'm so glad she had her camera. If you click up, you can see the Wood Duck babies. 

Another cool thing about birding is that if you go, your kids begin to notice birds without seeming to try. A few weeks ago my son spotted a female Summer Tanager, which we all then got to see. Yesterday my daughter heard a Yellow-Billed Cuckoo and then found it with the help of her father. And we all got to hear it again this morning along with a Hooded Warbler, a Wood Thrush, and a Rose Breasted Grosbeak. Of these, the song of the Thrush is my favorite. We hear Pileated Woodpeckers frequently. And Barred Owls, monkey calling in the night, of course.