Copasetic Flow

 Here’s another look at what happens with unschooling.  You set out to spend some time in nature. The eight year-old is starting an animal tracking class, so maybe you’ll commune with nature a bit while you’re out there. Then, on the way, you see windmill blades, but not on a windmill. They’re. On. A. Train! In the middle of nowhere. Lots of them! They stretch off into the distance. Soooo many windmill blades! And they’re on a siding! And there’s a little pull off to get over there!!! Woohoo! So, now, you and the gang—9, 8, and 6 years-old—are going to explore windmill blades! That’ll be fun! You’ve never seen a blade up close before. This’ll be so much fun! You and the kids head for the blades. They’re walking along the tracks, perusing them. You stop to admire the first blade. It’s gorgeous, framed up just so on the flatcar. There’s a couple of blocks of concrete on the other end of the car acting as a counterweight. Visible between the blade and flatcar, a snow capped mount...

As our 'just under OSHA's safe hearing limits' subway hummed to a stop, I felt a gentle nudge at my left side.  Turning to find a kind but concerned looking fellow passenger, I raised my eyebrows quizzically.  She pointed at the kids.  "Ah," I thought, "she's about to comment on how awesome the kids are!"  It was the obvious answer, but why did she look so concerned? She leaned in conspiratorially. "Their shoes might be on the wrong feet," she whispered. "Hunh, would you look at that?  Cool!  Thanks!"  I replied with a big grin.  Off the train went roaring through the tunnels of San Francisco again. At the next station, the train doors slid open letting the bright platform lights flood in.  I felt another nudge.  This time my fellow passenger leaned back in contemplation, staring at the kids' shoes.  For fun, I leaned back with her.  We studied the footwear in question in some detail.  She nodded her head, then lea...