Well that was quite a brew-hee-ha over on Facebook about homeschooling! I enjoyed every minute of it, and sort of miss the attention, so I thought I’d pursue some of my thinking over here, where I can write unlimitedly!

So I’m not even sure how I came to the idea of homeschooling. Oh, and put down the intervention pamphlets: I’m not actually going to homeschool my children any time soon. But I was really seized with this idea for a good couple of weeks. It hit me like a bolt of lightning (a bolt of lightning): I suddenly saw how taking my children out of a formal school structure could be kind of an amazing thing.

First of all, yes, I’m the complainy stay-at-home half of a parental unit of two school-aged children, and as many of you kindly reminded me on FB, I haven’t always been the most contented SAH parent in the world. For those of you who do not actually have direct access to my inner world, however, I would like to confess that I’m finding the mothering haul a bit easier these days, with children who can actually entertain themselves for 2.2 seconds at a time. I was teaching my writing workshop a few weeks ago (Nine loved it; Six was taken out of the room by the babysitter/cousin after the first hour) and remembering, Oh, right, I love teaching kids. I know how to do this. Even my own kid was listening to me, soaking up my vast intellect and knowledge, showing curiosity in the world. Maybe that’s when it happened. I’m not sure.

But I had what could only be called a religious epiphany (unless you just want to call it an inspired idea): Formal school is a pain in the ass. It stresses our family out completely. We begin every school day with this insane production of getting ready for the bus: outfits, matching socks (or not), breakfast and packed lunches (my children have an adversarial relationship with food to begin with), homework and books and permission slips, all with the husband running around with the electric shaver and Six maybe having a tantrum, maybe not, over some aspect of the morning routine. (Nine and I are no help, either, in our own ways, just to be fair.)

I started, in this moment of epiphany, to image all our days being like summer days: getting up when our bodies say it’s time, having a relaxed breakfast and morning ablution routine, then settling into our work. I really don’t think anyone should be working more than four hours a day, since I read that most of our ancestors (Andrew disputes this, but I READ IT IN A BOOK) worked between three and six hours a day until the Great Depression, which instituted the 40 hour work week. Anyway, the girls and I would undertake some exciting learning endeavor for the next four hours: a museum, or building a fence for our dog, sewing our own bonnets and shifts, that sort of thing. Because there is a part of me that thinks that, in the future, it may be more helpful for my girls to know how to build a power generator from found cutlery than how to bisect spheres. Or whatever it is you do in geometry.

The afternoons would be for writing and naps (two of my favorite activities). See, I wouldn’t have to go away to write, because my children, sated with the hours and hours of undivided attention they’d just gotten from their parent (Andrew and I would have to switch off, obviously — I’m not doing this myself!), would happily sit to their own work. I have noticed that not only is the time before school rather stressful, but the time after school may be even worse: they seem starved for us, just at the time when Andrew and I, beat from our days’ work, are starved to be unmolested. And ok, fine, I understand that many of you snarkies will be all snorty and “yeah, right!!” about this, but I think there’s something to be said for a more balanced work/home life. The girls could actually stay up later to have some quality time with their father (who because of the nature of his work doesn’t get home until an hour before their bedtime) because they wouldn’t have to get up early for the rumble in the jungle (aka getting ready for school). We could travel, without worrying about the school schedule. They would help with the chores, like prairie girls. We would make a vegetable garden, build a sustainable home. We would save the planet.

See? Like that.

(Burlap dress image for Reetie.)

It’d be cool.

I got this the other day and I have to say, it’s like the perfect fan letter.

Hey Rebecca,

Just wanted to drop you a note to tell you how much I enjoyed “Nice to Come Home To”. I finished it not ten minutes ago, cried, and decided to write you a note. I finished “The Book of Negroes” on the weekend, needed something the polar opposite, and your book was the perfect fit. Thanks!

It should be noted, however, that my very own large feline, one Tallulah Blue, is thoroughly put out, since I ignored her for the past two evenings in order to read. I suspect she shall try to smother me in my sleep.

Thanks again for a lovely read.

See, she praises me, shows me she’s a smart reader, gives me a name for the cat in my next novel, and makes me laugh.

Perfect.

I was feeling particularly crappy about the (my) writing life this week, too, so it came at just the right time. Freakin’ God bless you people, who take the time to write this notes. It’s better than any other part of this work, in all sincere honesty.

I’m going to tell my publishers that this how is they should promote the book in any future editions: “If you loved THE BOOK OF NEGROES, you’ll love its polar opposite, NICE TO COME HOME TO!” Actually, I was intrigued, so I looked it up on Amazon — apparently it’s published under a different title in the U.S.: SOMEONE KNOWS MY NAME. “Stunning, wrenching and inspiring,” according to Publisher’s Weekly. Has anyone read it?

Wow, do you know that in a few short months, it will have been an ENTIRE YEAR since I’ve posted on my blog?

Video may have killed the radio star, but Facebook killed my blog.

Facebook, and writing memoir. I barely have enough left for here. Oh, and the kids, and the new puppy.

Here’s what I’ve been thinking about lately: growing old. In a way, I sort of can’t wait. I dream about gracious retirement living: apricot carpeting, peach stretch pants and matching blouse, low-healed sandals. A day of leisurely routine: tea, newspaper, scream at the news on TV, gentle pool aerobics, lunch with the ladies, nap, early dinner, Matlock, bed. Sipping from my little sterling silver flask throughout.

I’d like to think the agonizing over beauty — or lack thereof — will slowly fade away, along with my estrogen levels. It would be an amazing day that I didn’t take stock of my personal attractiveness in my mind. Let’s make that “hour.” It’s not that I’m vain; I’m just female.

For those of you lovely enough to be asking, my second book, MISS BLUE TIP, is done(!) and on the market; my third, a memoir called NOSH, DAVEN, SHTUP (thanks, Elizabeth Gilbert!), about my spiritual journey from WASP nest to Judaism, is in the works…my agent is Gail Hochman, if you’re interested!

You KNOW I am not one to toot my own horn, but this reader posted on her blog one of the nicest reviews I’ve read of NICE TO COME HOME TO. It’s like EXACTLY how I’d hoped readers would respond:

Beautifully written story about self-discovery, this story is masterfully written with metaphor, a hint of the novel Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and the belief that we cannot plan for everything. Life sometimes steps in and pulls us into that place where we can dance our way through to the right spot…MORE

Turns out the blogger, SusieJ ,is a writer in her own right, and is taking my online workshop! Yay!
OK: now finished tooting.

Really excited that my first online creative writing workshop is starting to fill up! It sort of happened while I wasn’t looking, to be honest. I hadn’t even done much to promote it, but when next I looked 154 people had logged in to check it out!

You can too. Just go here: http://www.rebeccaflowers.com/workshop
Log in as a “guest” and you can poke around.

We start Sept. 13th. Here’s how it works: Every Sunday I put up a lesson and a video podcast talking about some point of writing. Maybe it’s character, or point of view, or conflict, or whatever. Something interesting. There will be an exercise which I encourage you to try for at least 10 minutes of your writing time. Then you can move on to other writing you may be doing, or keep with the writing prompt work, whatever inspires you, for at least 50 minutes.

You can either keep your work private or share with the group. If you have something longer you’d like feedback on, we can do that, too. I happen to know a lot of the writers in this class and you would get EXCELLENT feedback from them, in my opinion.

I will also have guest stars!! My agent, Gail Hochman, and 3 of my fabulous BESTSELLING author friends (Marisa de los Santos, Joshilyn Jackson, and Caroline Leavitt) have agreed to answer your writing/publishing questions. I did this because heck, who ever gets to talk to real writers and agents, right?

Other benefits of taking the class are: access to moi. We can Skype chat about your work, or I can send you written notes. Whatever works for you. That’s also why I’m limiting the class size — so I have time to pay attention to my students!

I’m really excited to get started. Please feel free to email me if you have any questions about the course or if the site doesn’t seem to be working for you. It’s a courseware I’m using called Moodle, and I’m fairly Moodle-proficient at this point!

Oh and it’s only $64! Which, as many have pointed out, is a totally random number! I don’t know, $65 just seemed like too much.

Click, and enjoy!

I got the following email from Jeff, who is interested in advertising on the site, apparently because YOU are the target audience for his product, SMELLY WASHER. Because he’s my first official advertising I don’t feel it’s right to charge him, so I’m just going to put up his email and let that speak for the product itself! And I really encourage you to try SMELLY WASHER, the first official sponsor of RebeccaFlowers.com! You can even get a bottle FREE OF CHARGE!

Hello,

My name is Jeff Foster, I am the PR Manager for www.SmellyWasher.com. Our product removes mildew smell from washing machines. I would like to send your company a FREE Bottle of SMELLY WASHER so you can test it out & write a review about it on your website.

See How The Product Works:

http://www.youtube.com/user/smwasher

P.S. Our company also can offer Free Bottles of SMELLY WASHER to your readers if you wanted to run a contest or sweepstakes! Instead of spending money advertising our products we give away products to websites like yours to increase our brand awareness. Please email or call if your feel your readers would also enjoy receiving a free bottle of SMELLY WASHER!

Perfect happiness: I finally figured it out.  Let me tell you, it’s not about embracing the moment.  Or living as if it’s your last day on the planet.  Or any of those things that you learned from the seven people you knew in kindergarten or from a dog named Marley or an old guy named Moby.  Or whatever.  For me, anyway, perfect happiness is in having figured out, after all these years, DINNER.

Remember that I live with two children who only eat white things, and a vegematarian who routinely cuts out new things from his diet for fun and refuses beans.  Then there’s the little matter of my migraines, which seem to be triggered by yes, wait for it: SOY PRODUCTS.  So, unavailable to me as chef are: Pork, beef, chicken, duck, turkey, veal, beans, fish, veg burgers, tofu, tempeh, tofurkey, tochicken, tosquab, and topheasant.  What, exactly, does that leave us for dinner?

For a while I tried to cook inventive, creative vegetable-based dishes.  The fun of that wore off pretty quickly.  I should also point out these aspects of dinnertime hell: I have a kitchen smaller than a pair of size 14 jeans, the kids choose this hour to be their crankiest, and by this time I’ve done some substantial digging in the back of the fridge for something cold and boozy, if you get my drift.

So here’s what I’ve finally discovered: Soup and salad.  Every night.  Without variation.  I need only a few things: Veg bouillon cubes, salad greens, and veggies.  Garlic, bottled dressing, boiled eggs, and I’m set.  That’s it.  I just try to mix up the veggies, but not too hard.  One or two veggies per soup.  Pureed or clumpy.  Sometimes I throw some nuts and seeds in my salad so we get our protein.  The kids, as usual, eat leftover pasta or scrambled eggs or they just breathe air, which seems to account for a substantial portion of their nutrition.   I don’t think about it, I don’t plan ahead, I barely even pay attention to what I’m doing.  Soup, and salad.  And I can do it half-baked.

Oh and I finally have our money under control.  I made a budget, using the budget spreadsheet that came with the copy of Word I cribbed from Dave.  And I keep track of my daily spending using a nifty app called Ace Software, on my iPhone!  That’s all, and I didn’t even have to go out and buy white gloves to wear to my banker’s.  No stupid Quicken, no envelopes, no ledger.  It’s been two whole weeks, and I haven’t bounced a check so far!

So there you have it: Soup and salad, every night, and a budget.  Oh and I’m letting my kids watch about 10-12 hours of television a day.  That’s helping, too.

If you want to feel like your head is being massaged in warm oil while listening to one of the classics of American literature, check out Brenda Dayne’s reading of ‘The Age of Innocence’ at Librivox.org.  (Librivox is community-based audiobooks — thousands of titles, all in the public domain, read by wonderful readers, and FREE!)  You can download it to your ipod, people!

I’m going to pay her to appear as me at future readings.

I would watch the AbFab crew watch toast burning, let’s face it, but this is hilarious, especially upon repeated viewings. I wish you could see my kids (Seven and Four) doing “I’m a Shvede!” and “What’s the name of the … then, game.”

Oh, pooh, it’s late and I can’t figure out how to embed: Watch it Here!