LnL gratitude

To Frank, MJ, and Chloe for putting up with my nerves for weeks, for listening to my talks several times (each), and for being you

To Steph for driving up from Georgia to offer moral support — GUH!

To Robin Bentley for being at my talks, flat but beautiful (she had Beth tape up her picture right there in the front row)

To Kade, for "Bohemian Rhapsody"

To Alec Traaseth for being a good friend, even if it did mean I had to cry when I told him good-bye on the last day

To Caren and the whole LnL Drum Ensemble for one of the most amazing experiences of my life — I'm kuku for cocoa puffs and I want some more!

To all the teens who came to my teen talk and provided the perfect (disgusted) reactions to all those nasty quotes I opened with

To EVERYBODY for being fun and creative and inspiring

And especially to Kelly, Ben, Cameron, and Duncan ("the Dunkster" Frank says) for hosting, for their incredible contribution to—no, creation of—our unschooling community, and for making me a part of the last Live-and-Learn-in-its-current-incarnation. You guys rock!

LnL reports

I've finally had a moment to cruise blogs and read people's posts about Live and Learn. Wow. I'm right back in the conference groove now. Too cool. We didn't have our usual post-conference period of euphoria since we jumped right into jetlag and headcolds. Nice to enjoy it now.

I have "Bohemian Rhapsody" playing to help with that. What a fun 5 minutes that was! Anne has some photos here.

Ren (who is even more beautiful in person) has her writeup, photos, and links to a bunch of other conference posts here.

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So, all this reminiscing has led me into thinking about—no, anticipating—LIFE is Good 2009. Mary has honored me with an invitation to speak there. I'm pondering what to talk about. My "Unschooling the Wrong Way" talk was so fun to do, I'm tempted to reprise that. But I think the teen one challenges me more (and perhaps my audience). But doing something all new might be fun, too.

You can help! If you heard my talks, drop me a line at hmsdragonfly at hotmail dot com and tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you wish I'd said, what you thought about afterward, etc.

If you didn't hear my talks, drop me a line anyway. I am craving feedback.
:-)

Journal excerpt: Peeking at the Knights of Malta

9/18/08

Gianguido's friend Mauro and his wife led us from Trastevere up to a swank neighborhood that is home to foreign embassies and Italian movie stars. Our destination was the Priory of the Knights of Malta, not to visit the grand master of the order (who still lives there) but to peer through the peephole in the front door. Through it, you see a fairy-lighted, tree-lined avenue and a perfectly framed view of the lighted dome of St. Peter's. Very pretty.

Local lovers visit this spot. Some of them sit in their cars and neck under the tolerant eyes of the machine-gun-toting guards, but one couple wasn't content with that and instead engaged in a little nooky at the peephole itself, he peering through while his hands roamed and she giggled. They weren't in the least concerned that we were standing just a few feet away.

Journal excerpt: Roman gladiators

9/18/08

The motorcycles are the new gladiators. At every red light, they move between and alongside the cars to the front of the line so that, when the light changes, they all leave at once in a big roaring pack.

People from all walks of life travel by "moto" and scooter: kids, business people (the women in high heels), some studious looking fellows in corduroy and tweed. It is understandable on the one hand—two-wheeled vehicles get twice as far in half the time—but I also think they must be a little bit suicidal. To drive in Roma at all is to engage in fierce (yet also pretty calm) battle, with lane markers and stop signs regarded as mere suggestions. Stop lights, though, are obeyed always, since running a yellow can cost you two points off your 24-point license, and the fines are hundreds of Euros.

We have been surprised by the lack of Italian motorcycles. Japanese bikes hugely outnumber them.

One amusing note: The Ducati Il Monstro that is sold in America is here offered as the Monster.

The cars here are distinctly different from those in America. Private SUVs and vans are very rare, and I have seen only one (smaller) pickup truck here. Also, as Chloe and I noted in England, the auto manufacturers offer different models in Europe, smaller and boxy and very cute. Smart cars are hugely popular, since they fit into the motorcycle parking spaces. It's entertaining to see them nosed up against the curb next to the Vespas and Yamahas.

Journal excerpt: Helicopter tour of the Dolomites

9/16/08

Gianguido treated us to a one-hour Dolomite tour in one of ItalFly's helicopters. I prepped my stomach by drinking little, eating, and taking some Dramamine. Maybe it helped.

Me as we boarded the 'copter: Are there air-sickness bags?
Gianguido to the pilot: Sacchi di vomito?
The pilot (in a "there is no way you are going to need one" tone): Oh, no, no, no!

My mistake: I didn't insist. Fortunately, MJ had brought along a shopping bag which served in a pinch.

But all of this is secondary to the flight itself. Wow! Totally, spectacularly beautiful. I took 7,000 pictures [on MJ's camera, fortunately - see photos here]. And Frank was on Cloud 9. Or maybe Cloud 999. He was really short on sleep and not feeling 100% when we arrived at the airport. By the time we left, he was cured, ecstatic, and energized.

Roma

Gianguido, Gloria, Chiara, and some random tourist in front of the Colosseum.

Me and my girls and some random tourist in front of Constantine's Arch adjacent to the Colosseum. The cobblestones you can see in this shot are called "San Pietrini," little St. Peters. Some of the roads around the Colosseum are still paved with these.

Chloe and the cop. You can't tell by looking at him, but he did agree to this photo. This is near the Spanish Steps.

Party at the Spanish Steps. Click to enlarge (but it won't help much).

Family photo (and a couple of goofy faces) in front of La Fontana di Trevi. This area was packed with people even in the pouring rain.

Trento

A random building in Chiara's "boring" town. Click the image to see the details.


I can't remember if this is a church or part of the university. Anyway, it's gorgeous.


MJ's birthday party. Gloria, Max, Chloe, MJ, and Chiara.

Lago di Garda

This was our view from the lake house. Don't you feel sorry for us?

Chiara and Gloria:

Beauties by the (chilly) pool. Note that Chiara is wearing her Zenmomma art, the chocolate lollipop purse, which she just loves.

My favorite one-two punch

Saturday at the conference was sort of "advanced unschooling" day, with a series of talks by and about teenaged and 20-something unschoolers. I enjoyed the whole day (well, aside from an extreme case of nerves about my own teenager talk), but the combination of Brenna McBroom's and Cameron Lovejoy's talks was a real highlight.

Brenna spoke first, sharing stories about her life as an academically inclined unschooler, her decision to go to college, and her preparation for that path. Brenna is tiny, but her intelligence and drive give her a presence beyond her height. Plus, she's a knockout. She talked about prom (she went to one and was unimpressed) and being valedictorian (she got an hour to talk instead of only 5 minutes). And she talked about the things she's gotten to explore as an unschooler that she wouldn't have had time for if she'd been on the AP track in school.

Then Cameron had his turn. He talked about starting out unschooling as a kid who didn't want to do anything. He was shy and something of a hermit. This image is hard to reconcile with the Cameron we got to know. He helped run the conference, for one thing, and he's a talented drummer who accompanied Amy Steinberg brilliantly, and he is just the neatest guy. Anyway, he talked about his gradual emergence from his shell and how unschooling gave him the space to do that. His plans for the near future include(d) working as a junior staffer at Not Back to School Camp, followed by some world-schooling with Eli Gerzon on a multi-month trip to Mexico.

The two talks complemented each other beautifully, especially because Cameron and Brenna are really close friends—something that might not have been an option for them without unschooling, even if they'd attended the same school. And the talks in combination really illustrated how unschooling can be tailored to suit an individual without forcing the individual into a mold.

Grief

It looks like ~400 of my Europe photos are lost to the Evil Gods of Digital Destruction. I can only be thankful that MJ was taking photos in most of the same places as me. Exceptions: Murano, Waterford, the Dunbrody famine ship, Duncannon Beach.

We'll take the camera card to a technician and see if s/he can recover them, but for right now it doesn't look good.

Woe! Woe! Woe!

24

We're home! Dublin airport hotel to our front door took about 24 hours. Phew! What a trip!

I actually slept last night (in my own bed!!!), so I'm at work this a.m. Frank and the girls are settling in back at home.

Trip report posts will begin later today. Promise!

Ah, Italia!

Greetings from Milano. I actually have a sufficiency of Internet time today and yet have no idea where to start with this blog post.

Yes, I do. Venezia. Always Venezia. Ohmigod, can a place be more special?! You know how Americans hopelessly romanticize Europe? Well, Venice is better than you think.

But before that there was Roma. It was moving and significant and delicious (we are eating our way through Italy, ya know). For Frank, it was just a bit poignant, coming face to face with modern Roma and its abundant traces of the Rome he learned about in all those years under the Jesuits. Gianguido put us up in a truly lovely little boutique hotel out near the beltway (Grande Raccordo Anulare) that circles Roma. From there, he was our guide, taking us to the usual, fabulous places (colosseum, forum, Spanish Steps, Trevi) and a few less publicized fabulous places.

The girls' favorite was, I think, our visit to Trastevere, a trendy little neighborhood "across the Tiber." We went there to join some friends for dinner, but MJ, Chloe, and Chiara made their escape early to roam the energetic streets. They joined the party on the steps at a piazza, where a junkie declared his undying love for them. Quite an education my girls are getting here. :-)

Our least favorite was the day we spent walking the streets downtown in the pouring rain. It was a tragedy of etiquette, since we were all too polite to simply say, "This is miserable. Let's stop." Even that day had its highlights, though, especially our visit to the Pantheon, a stunning church that holds the graves of some Italian notables (Vittorio Emmanuelle being the most recent). It's a spectacular place. The domed ceiling is open to the sky, so the rain comes in to fall on the marble floor. I overheard one woman say that on Sundays when it rains, the parishioners stand there with their umbrellas up.

I skipped our drive to Roma, but the drive north again was just as lovely, if a bit lonely since Gianguido had to fly to Sicilia for work. Through Tuscany and the Appenines, past Firenze (we didn't stop, saving it for next time). Positively gorgeous countryside, dotted with cathedrals and castles and vineyards.

And then Venezia. We were all exhausted and tempted to huddle into our Mestre hotel. Fortunately, Chiara insisted we go across to the island, so the Canal Grande at sunset was my introduction to Venezia. WOW!! And then we went to Piazza San Marco. WOW!! (Frank and I would later spend half an hour sitting there just contemplating the church.)

No, my thoughts about Venezia are just too scattered. I will write more about it later when I can include photos.

I do have a story to tell about Murano, though. This was yesterday. Chiara and her mom had caught the train back to Trento, and the girls had their own wandering to do (plus they were still engrossed in Twilight, which they bought for an outrageous price at a Roma bookstore), so Frank and I caught the vaporetto (ferry) on our own. We had done no research about Murano, so we were clueless about where to go and why. Our aimless wandering served us well, though, and we ended up in a swank little gallery. I fell in love at first sight with an ornate violet decanter and goblet set and asked the hovering sales man (who was clearly unimpressed with our casual dress and Crocs) about it. Trying to find easily translated words, I asked if the gold decoration was in the glass or "painted on." "It is 24k gold, madam," he replied snootily. "Gold cannot be painted." With that cleared up, we continued our perusal of the wares. I finally circled back, muttering to Frank that "I just have to ask," and inquired about the price of the set. Mr. Snooty glanced at the price tags and then wandered off, so I went up and looked myself. Six goblets at 200 Euros each and 400 Euros for the decanter. Ouch! Then the salesman returned and said, "650 Euros." Corrupted by 400-Euro Roman dinners (really! Gianguido is a terrible influence and a ruthlessly generous host), I remarked, "But that price is too low! Now I am tempted."

Just like that, we were no longer disgustingly casual American tourists but the salesman's very favorite people. He made us very comfortable and showed us the pieces up close and told us about their design, unusual color, etc., and then went to "talk to his boss" about the price.

And yes, I bought the set. Or rather, Frank did. He is a terrible influence, too. But the new price included shipping and everything! And we have an heirloom to pass on to future generations.

As we concluded the sale, I asked if there was a fornace that we could visit. The salesman took us through to the back and stayed with us, explaining each step as a murrina-embedded drinking glass was made before our very eyes. His accent was a little thick, but we think that glass will be in the package when our new set joins us at home.

Here in Milano, we are doing nothing but vegetating in our hotel room (which is a huge quad, easily our biggest room so far). Chiara recommended that we visit the duomo, but we just don't have it in us.

Dublin tomorrow, where we should have Internet access at the cyber cafe attached to our lodgings.

Ciao!

Crud, Torbole, and a little family porn

Frank was the last to get the conference crud, but it has hit him hardest, of course. He is sleeping a lot and missing out on some outings. We wandered Trento, Torbole, and Malcesine without him. :-(

In Trento the other day, we had our first taste of frescos, saw the duomo and the castle, walked the winding streets, etc. The streets are narrow enough (10 feet or less in some cases) and people are casual enough about sidewalk usage that I'll be wandering down a stradina, thinking of it as a pedestrian mall or something, and then be totally surprised when a car comes along.

I love Trento. Chiara, from her more youthful perspective, finds it pretty boring, and from an Italian perspective, it might be. But for an American tourist visiting her first Italian city, it's pretty darn special. (I took dozens of photos, but you'll all just have to wait to see them, because Chiara's computer is a dinosaur.)

Likewise, the drive from the lake to Trento, which Chiara didn't think we would find overly scenic, knocked our socks off. She's a funny girl.

Yesterday, MJ, Chloe, and I visited Torbole, a resort town on the north end of Lago di Gardo. We shopped, had maxi-pizze (individual pizzas that would each be considered sufficient for a party of three in America), and continued our quest for hot Italian boys. Pretty fun.

I am a little embarrassed at how intimidated I am to do simple things like make a purchase or walk into a ristorante. I completely freeze up when it comes time to speak a few words of Italian. This stems mostly from my Spanish/Italian confusion: I'm never sure which language is going to come out of my mouth, and the one doesn't consistently translate to the other. But we're muddling along (mostly because all the shopkeepers are tri- or quatri-lingual).

When it comes to understanding the Italian we hear and read, I do pretty well. I can get the gist of or at least the subject matter of conversations between native speakers, and I can translate the news pretty well with all the video providing context. I'm enjoying the attempts, anyway, and wish we could stay longer so I could keep learning.

Saturday night, the four of us sat down to watch a little Italian TV. The lake house doesn't get many channels, so we surf a lot, hoping for an American movie that we know well enough to be able to follow along. We caught 'The Matrix' the other night, for instance. (In English, there is no spoon. In Italian, the spoon doesn't exist. It's a subtle but important difference, I think.) But on this particular evening, what we found was porn. It was so strange that we couldn't turn away, even though it felt VERY weird to watch porn with my daughters. The program was sort of a travelogue, filmed in the 30s I think, in New York City. Our Italian protagonists toured the city, visiting the Empire State Building and so forth, and every so often the travelogue would be interrupted with a period nudie shot. The big conclusion was the protagonists' return to their hotel, where they proceeded to have very awkward sex (for example, their shoes were nearly the last thing to come off). It was pure (unintentional) comedy. And while the most graphic parts were fuzzed out, it was still like nothing you would see on American TV.

They also show nursing mothers in their Pampers commercials, and we saw a non-tabloid German newspaper at the newstand that had a full frontal shot on the front page. We're definitely not in Kansas any more, nor even the wild West coast.

Anyway, today we are back in Trento. Gloria, Chiara, and Max put on a little birthday luncheon for MJ: bruschetta, formaggi, pizzina, salami, etc., followed by chocolate torta and apple streudel. It was lovely. Later, we will go visit Gianguido's mom and perhaps do a little shopping: Chloe is dying for more reading materials.

In the morning, Frank and the girls and either Gloria or I are taking a helicopter ride to tour the Dolomites. Who will be the fourth passenger depends on the state of my stomach. I get queasy just thinking about being up there. We'll see.

Gianguido, aka the tour guide, arranged the helicopter and has made reservations for us all over Italy. Wednesday, we drive to Roma for a few days, and then we come back north to Venezia before returning to Milano and our flight to Dublin. Pretty nice to have such accommodating hosts!

I have a handwritten journal that contains so many more details than this, but I keep forgetting to bring it with me. Maybe tomorrow. I also have to remember to bring the reservation info for the Venezia hotel we no longer need. If I forget, my mom will be getting another phone call. :-)

Ciao! Biacci!

P.S. to Gillian: What do you want to know about Live and Learn? I've decided I kicked ass on my first talk; perhaps the delusion of distance, but it feels good to think it. :-) The other talks were all excellent: so nice to hear Ren and Anne in person, and Beth's Peaceful Partnerships talk was very special if a bit different from the one she did at LiG. I didn't get to any funshops except the sign-making one that Kelli ran. I spent all my spare time drumming, I think. The girls hit the ground running, knowing just enough people to be able to dive right into the teen groups. Frank and I felt more tentative, thinking we were surrounded by strangers, until we started putting faces together with screen names, blog names, and so on. Still wish you all could have been there.

Favorite moments: At my first talk, looking out from the podium at this big group of people on my right who were all there to support me (family, Steph, Traaseths, Stonebrakers, etc.). The end of the dance. The video tribute someone made for Kelly, sung to the tune of 'Live and Let Die' but titled 'Live and Learn,' which shows a classroom full of bored kids breaking free to run across a beautiful open meadow. Eating in the cafeteria with everybody else, even though the noise level was pretty overwhelming. Sitting in the first drum circle looking out over the hills -- er, I mean mountains. It was a good and beautiful time.

MJ

MJ is 16 today. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! I can't believe it. It seems like about two minutes ago that she was a newborn. What she is now is an amazing, beautiful person who makes every day of my life more fun.

Happy Birthday, Baby!!

Ike

Chuck and family experienced downpours and a lack of electricity. Otherwise, they are fine.

Only six more weeks of hurricane season!

Garda Lake and Trento

We have had a lovely couple of days at Garda Lake, adjusting to Italian time and enjoying the warm weather.

The 'lake house' is a little condo high on a hill a above the lake. It is warmly decorated in golds and reds and provides just enough space for the four of us, with a couch for Chiara to sleep on when she joins us. The walk down the hill to the lakeshore is very steep, but it is a wonderful trip, full of twists and turns and cobblestones and a little tunnel and beautifully ornate doorways. We enjoy the trip down much more than the trip up, during which we are entirely dedicated to huffing and puffing.

Yesterday, we went into Malcesine, a small village on the lakeshore, and played tourist with all the Germans. We had gelati and spritzi and shopped. I alarmed a newspaper vendor by reading a headline in USA Today aloud; he was quite sure I intended to read it without paying for it. But I calmed him down with a simple 'Quanto?' He was still a bit weird, though, and asked Chloe to move away from the English-language books she was studying three times so that he could sweep the floor. Chiara says this is every bit as rude to do to a customer here as it is in America. So we didn't buy anything else.

Today, we are in Trento, visiting Chiara's house and family and Cora the dog, and taking in a few sites. It is pouring rain, so this is less pleasant than we would wish, but it is very pretty here and the rain has at least cooled things off for our unaccustomed northwest selves.

I love driving here. Chiara's brother, Max, has very kindly loaned us his Yaris. It is tiny and does not appreciate it when we do the steepest hills with all five of us in the car, but it is otherwise very fun. And the winding streets are always an adventure, since they are not really wide enough for two cars to pass. The main roads are more spacious but less exhilirating.

Live and Learn

Hi, everybody! I'm writing to you from Jamaica, New York (aka the JFK airport area), where we spent the night after a wonderful weekend in Black Mountain, NC, at the Live and Learn Unschooling Conference. I only have a few minutes, so I can't go into all the detail you know I'm dying to, but here are a few tidbits:

• My talks went well, especially the first one, "Unschooling the Wrong Way." That's from my perspective; the "Enjoying Teenagers" one received some nice feedback, too, but the first one is the one where I had more fun. It surprised me, because I felt better prepared for the teen talk. I mean, I rewrote UTWW the day before the talk. But I got into a groove while delivering it, and I got some nice laughs, so I started having fun. For the other one, I was running on nerves.
• Drumming, drumming, drumming, drumming. Ohmigosh, I had so much fun drumming. Caren brought a vanload of drums and held several drum circles, each one different from the last. I thought I was really partial to "anarchist" drum circles—where everyone does his or her own thing and this really magical, organic thing happens—but Caren organized a group of us to learn Kuku (my spelling), a West African rhythm, and perform it in the talent show. I'm still high from that night. Our practices involved a lot of mistakes and laughter, and the performance involved a lot fewer mistakes and this feeling of total triumph. We rocked the house! Everybody was on their feet, and all the kids danced like maniacs, and Caren led us to go faster than we had in practice, and it was amazing.
• I got to meet so many people I have only known online. It's kind of an odd experience to walk into a room full of strangers and discover half of them are already friends, but that's an unschooling conference for you.
• I got so much out of the other speakers' talks. I went to all of them, I think. Some brilliant people and a few new ideas to ponder. I might write more about those as I continue pondering.
• We danced! As the masquerade ball wound down on Saturday, a group of us diehards (even not-gimpy Frank) danced together. The DJ played "Bohemian Rhapsody" and we all knew all the words, including 6yo Kade, who was so obviously thrilled to be included in the big circle of teens, and the Ohmans, who belted it out with great and hilarious enthusiasm. As the song ended, I thought, "That's it, that should be the last song," but there were more, and each turned as special as the last. For "Closing Time," we all danced in a big, goofy circle, and then there was "Delilah." We were all singing along to that one when the music suddenly cut off. Undaunted, we continued singing, led by Jake Ohman, and finished off the song. It was a fun and special bonding time.

Phew! Anyway, it was a beautiful weekend, and I was so honored to be a part of it. I just wish more of the LIFE is Good part of the tribe could have been there!

More about L&L here (at the bottom) and here and here and here.

Livin' and Learnin'

We'll try to touch base regularly, but no promises! :-)

Keep a good thought for the success of my talks!

Hugs to all!

Gustav update

Note from Judy

Gustav prep

Most of the New Orleans branch of the Maier clan is evacuating only as far as Judy and Marty's house, which is on high ground north of I-12 (a real demarcation line for Katrina's damage).

Jerry, Cori, and Molly are going a bit farther north and inland to Picayune, Mississippi.

Lori and Brian are going to or with his folks.

We're not sure where Bob and Anita are going, but he spent a good while yesterday making Gort as secure as possible. I'm probably more worried about Gort than the humans, because they are all getting to minimum safe distance while the Oak Harbor marina where Gort is was hit really hard during Katrina.

We'll keep you posted as much as possible as the storm moves ashore.