CarpeBanana

In the fall, Devastatingly Handsome planted some crocus bulbs. I am never sure how to make them plural so I go with croci.

Anyhow, Spring has finally hit the Bananadom enough to open out the croci. Seeing them open has led me into some musing about plant growth and rebirth as a believer.

We always learn in botany that plants need sunlight, water, and minerals to grow. And although that is true once the plant has begun to grow, how does the seed (or bulb) start to grow in a dark place underground ~ like the dead place of a heart without God ~ when sunlight does not in fact reach underground? And how do our hearts turn to God, when they are dead of themselves, unable to hear or respond?

(Picture thanks to my friend Jaybird.)

How did Lazarus, already dead and in the tomb, hear Christ cry “out with a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out.’” and come forth?

Yesterday at evening worship, we sang Who is on the Lord’s Side (love those Arthur Sullivan tunes) and the second verse speaks of this:

But for love that claimeth lives for whom He died:
He whom Jesus nameth must be on His side.
By Thy love constraining, by Thy grace divine,
We are on the Lord’s side—Savior, we are Thine!

“love constraining” ~ an odd combination of words in a world that believes love to be a feeling to be enjoyed and that always feels good ~ does love somehow constrain the crocus, and Lazarus, and my heart to come forth to life?

Or in the old words of our catechism:

Q. 29. How are we made partakers of the redemption purchased by Christ?
A. We are made partakers of the redemption purchased by Christ, by the effectual application of it to us by his Holy Spirit.

Q. 30. How doth the Spirit apply to us the redemption purchased by Christ?
A. The Spirit applieth to us the redemption purchased by Christ, by working faith in us, and thereby uniting us to Christ in our effectual calling.

Thank God for making the crocus and reminding me that He calls forth life from death despite my lack of understanding how it can be so.

Finally the weekend is here and there is time to provide the report on our Spring Break/ extended field trip to Virginia. Devastatingly Handsome’s issues about internet privacy do not extend to Melrose, the wee monkey who was invited along on this trip, so you will be seeing how he enjoyed his time. (Photos courtesty of Miss Language and Devastatingly Handsome. I am lousy with a camera. I took one shot, and it ended up being the wrong end of the deer along the Skyline Drive.)

Melrose did not bother with any photos on the way to Williamsburg or our first day there. So there are no pictures of the guy in the visitor center wearing his pajama bottoms who Miss Language wanted to pass around a tricorn hat and take up a collection to buy him some pants (not English syntax, I know, but remember, this is a vacation post). His first photo is actually from our second day in CW. We always park over Capitol Landing Road and start at the gaol. Melrose wanted to try it out. He is pretty sure he could break out of this place. No one was sure why he was locked up but the reasons became apparent as the trip continued.

A highpoint was a concert we were invited to in the ballroom of Governor Dunmoore’s Palace. Photos weren’t allowed once the musicans were in place and Melrose is not in view because of his good behavior out-of-sight in Mom’s purse. BTW: Mr Music really wants a harpsichord. Really. Oh, actually, I think he says “needs.”

This is one of the best photos of Melrose. He is sitting in the window of the Magazine. They likely frown on that but there was nowhere else to sit once that school group of 70 crowded in.

Here are some of the guns on display. Oh, and you may notice that by now Melrose has picked up a styling Colonial hat of his own, that was thanks to the bright eye of Mr Music in the gift shop on the lookout for harpsichords to take home.

We took a day off the Colonial sights and went to Nauticus, a big sea-themed museum in Norfolk. Melrose was not too thrilled with the eel but as Miss Dog Lover and Mr Music have been studying coral reefs, Mom wanted everyone to see the exhibits which might be in any way related. Yep, she even tried to make everyone touch the sharks. Melrose and Miss Dog Lover managed to weasel out of that one, though.

Melrose tried out the “Touch a Tornado” interactive display.

And Miss Language thought Melrose should get his bearings on some sort of thing that made less than no sense to Melrose, who just wanted to know where the nearest food was, but he dutifully posed facing Plymouth Rock to show how interested in all things historic he was due to this trip.

Melrose refused to come out of the comfort of Mom’s backpack as we toured the USS Wisconsin, for fear of being blown overboard. Mr Music discovered how you could squish Melrose’s head just-so and the hat would not blow away. (Not recommended for human application.)

Next day was back to CW (that is Mom and Devastatingly Handsome’s favorite place, so you gotta humor them and spend lots of time there). Mom loves the ginger cakes at the Raleigh bakery so you get to stand in line and buy some almost every day. Melrose got bored and checked out one of the ale mugs.

Then, while Devastatingly paid, he posed with the bowls.

And here he’s getting a bite of Mom’s ginger cake. Yum. Maybe smallpox, slavery, and sewage running in the streets would have been worth it, after all.

Here Melrose has completed the tour of the Wetherburne Tavern and is watching their animals. The tour lady said some of the sheep were due to deliver any moment but Melrose did not see anything noteworthy.

Ooops. The long arm of the law has caught up with Melrose. Apparently that “sitting in the ale mug” stunt is not allowed. And, how rude! Some youth stood there laughing at Melrose as he was paying his debt to society.

Sprung! The next day Melrose and the Bananas head out of CW, by way of the ferryboat across the James. Melrose wisely watches from the observation window and stays away from the edges of the boat. He has heard what happened to that one boy on the Mayflower and Mom does not think the VA Department of Transportation would stop if she hollered “Monkey overboard!”

Trouble here coming down from the observation deck. Melrose apparently has not been changed by his stay in the stockades. Flagrant disrespect to authorities.

We get across the James and head to the Surrey House (Devastatingly’s favorite) for a bowl of peanut soup and Devastatingly also has to have peanut-raisin pie. Where is the banana cream, anyhow? Notice Melrose’s polite hat-removing-inside behavior.

Devastatingly wanted to see “The Crater” at Petersburg. Mom, who did some great doodling and making up of codes in history classes, had never heard of it. Melrose liked the weaponry, but Mom was afraid he’d slip off and get dusty. Can’t have that.

But Mom did let him post by a monument near “The Crater”:

That night we dined at an IHOP. Mom believes a pancake meal on vacation is mandated by law.

Here is a shot of Melrose sitting in Mr Music’s matching hat as we drove across Virginia.

The final day of the vacation itself, we visited Appomattox Courthouse. Melrose was happy to see a more modern hat.

And was happy to see the room where Generals Lee and Grant ended the War Between the States.

However, he once again was briefly imprisoned. We think this had something to do with his behavior on the ferry boat. Hope you have enjoyed Melrose’s adventures. He is glad to be home, and trying to stay out of trouble.

This week back from vacation has included, in addition to the dead washing machine, six medical appointments for our crew. Yuck.

During some of them yesterday, Devastatingly Handsome took the ones not being examined to the library to restock their shelves. One of the bad things about vacationing is that you return to a library bookless house. 

Last night at bedtime, Mr Music had a first. He asked if he could read me a bedtime story. I was afraid it would be a Hardy Boys or one of the war books he loves, but he had also chosen some picture books and read to me about Tyrone the Horrible.

About all I can say without a spoiler, is that it was a good read, and well-matched to his audience. Thanks, Mr Music!

Here at the School for Bananalets we basically follow a classical Christian model. Think Veritas Press and you’ve got our number, pre-tweaking for individual Bananas.

However, every now and then, we realize that the texts on Classical Schooling really do not go far enough.

Case in point: our washing machine died in the throes of post-vacation laundry. Devastatingly Handsome, a wonderful provider, and a guy who likes clean laundry, went right out and did some investigating of new models once we decided it probably was not a good idea to attempt a repair on the 27 year old model which has served us faithfully through many a load of diapers. And today he fetched home a new beauty and has been working on installing it.

He is man enough to do it himself, with a little muscle help from the Bananas. Which of course, sets me to singing, “We gotta install microwave ovens/ Custom kitchen deliveries/ We gotta move these refrigerators/ We gotta move these colour TV’s”

Which would be fine. Except that then I hear myself saying to the kids, “It’s a CLASSIC! You are CLASSICALLY EDUCATED! You should love it!”

Ack. Too bad that is the sort of thing that are my classics.

Miss Language is fond of just randomly mentioning things.

Miss Language has an online Friend she has never visited IRL. However, I bopped over to their place in the wee hours of the night for a slice of Friend’s Mom’s famous Waldorf Astoria Chocolate Cake and was surprised to see the layout of their house.

When you walk from the kitchen into the garage and den area, you pass over a footbridge. This spans a moat about 25 feet wide.  This is all inside the house itself. So, as I say, it was surprising, but not as surprising as when I realized the moat was actually filled with alligators or maybe crocodiles (I am always fuzzy on the difference and never thrilled to see either in someone’s home).

Problem was, the sides of the moat were not terribly steep, so I asked if the alligators/crocodiles could not in fact climb right out into the kitchen. “No,” Friend’s Dad assured me, “That has never happened. Though once during the war a tank did drive up into the kitchen from the moat because a bolt had gone and he was hoping I’d have a replacement part for him.”

Sure wish I could download the picture from my head for you. *Mental note to self: see if you can talk Devastatingly Handsome into Photoshop or something like that.* But since I can’t post it, just picture kind of a medieval Fallingwater.

The downside of being so shocked is that I don’t even remember eating the cake. And I did not find out if Friend’s Dad had the right bolt or not.

Don’t know if you missed us but we’re back from an Easter break vacation seeing the sights in Virginia. A photo entry will follow as soon as I can get dug out from the laundry long enough to get things uploaded, downloaded, captioned, and what-not.

In the meantime, trip highlights:

* Favorite display of hitherto-undone family tricks: Mr Music came home with, not the hotel towel in his bag, but the Gideon’s Bible. I doubt that those often go missing. He has no idea how it got into his backpack, for all I know, I may have done it myself as I scooped his book stack into his pack while he was showering.

* Favorite quirky holiday observance: my blow-out celebration of the Ides was having a Ceasar Salad at McD’s. Et tu, lettuce.

* Favorite display of Christian love: we were blessed to be on the receiving end of hospitality as both Sundays folks from the churches we visited fed us wonderful meals, yes, even on Easter Sunday the pastor and elders and their families prepared a feast for us.

* Favorite church sign passed:

* Favorite experience in Colonial Williamsburg: attending an 18th century concert in the ballroom of the governor’s palace. By candle-light, of course.

* Favorite kid quotes during the very long car rides: Mr Music was reading signs, no biggie, till he announced spotting a “Drunken Donuts.” Yes. Miss Language felt dunking donuts in rum was just plain wrong somehow.

~ And later, there was a discussion that left someone saying “I do believe, I do believe.” I said something about it sounding like the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz (yes, like Miss Language, I hate that movie, too) but then someone said it was more like “I do believe in fairies, I do, I do” from Hook and so I asked if they do, in fact, believe in fairies and Miss Language replied that she is “a fairy agnostic.” You gotta wonder if that sort of statement kills fairies or not.

* Least favorite observation: have you ever noticed how character flaws become OBVIOUS when you are in the same car or hotel room for 9 days? And I’m not just talking about the kids’ character flaws ~ how about Mom’s?

Here it is, Pi Day and all, and it seems I waited too long to order these festive earrings. Maybe next year.

(Note to Devastatingly Handsome: not really. I would much rather wear the pair of the below you and Phil gave me.)

Anyhow, Happy Pi Day even under these adverse conditions. We have done some singing, quizzing, and will have Colorado pi(e) and blueberry pi(e) for dinner.

I know this is atypical for the Banana site, but here goes. My friend “Ferris Bueller” sent a thought-provoking question so we will try to address something in a thoughtful way instead of just slipping around on banana peels and Engrish.com signs.

He wrote: “Do you have any thoughts on this quandary I’ve been feeling lately about raising children who are prepared for the times we live in?  In a nutshell - when we were growing up pop culture was not Christian, but at the same time was generally not offensive.  There were tv shows a family could watch together,  you could find music that had good lyrics, etc.  Now, not only is pop culture not Christian, it is (IMHO) offensive as well.  So we (our family) basically live in the world of “Christian pop culture” - VeggieTales movies, Clubhouse magazine, CCM music - which is on the one hand (I hope) responsible and proper parenting.  But is that preparing them for what they will face in 10-15 years?  And if it isn’t, how do we do that, given the times we live in?  Maybe your blogbuddies have some thoughts.”

Honesty compells me to admit that he contacted me with this over, er, two months ago and I have just sat on it, as they say, hoping brilliance would spring to mind. It is time to wave the white flag on that and seek input. So, post away, and I will ask Ferris to come over and comment on any comments we gather here.

This is such a big question it is hard to answer. It kind of boils down to asking how we are to live as Christians. Our kids catch the ways we interact or don’t interact with culture from our cues, and we need to be living deliberately in every area. Unfortunately, as Ferris pointed out, there is not really a substantial Christian culture in place. Here is a link for an essay I love on the subject called “Manifesto on Psalms and Hymns” by Douglas Wilson which is in Cantus Christi (pages 4-7 on the link). 

Part of the way for us to raise our children is by giving them meaningful work now to do in building the Kingdom. It’s all too easy to think we are ‘raising’ them and have 18 years, or 21 years, or whatever to produce a finished product, but really, they are kingdom workers from day 1. It is also all so so tempting to clean up the world for them in an effort to shield them from sin, but to me it’s a mistake to shield them from the ugliness of sin. I think the “Christian pop culture” Ferris mentions glosses over the ugly reality of sin.

Ferris’ children are younger than the Bananalets and so the Bananalets have had much more opportunity to deal with battling ugliness, and have had more exposure to ugliness than we would have chosen for them. But God placed a lot of it unavoidably in their path, and it has shaped their interface with the culture around us, and enabled them to learn about the importance and interplay of words, actions, and belief.

Miss Language has posted on the same subject, as usual, with style and insight. Go read there and comment one or both places. Share some encouragement.