A New Adventure For A Life-Long Unschooler

As life-long unschoolers, neither of our children have ever attended school. Sure, they elected to take some courses offered in the community from time to time, but they have never been enrolled in school. The rare times we tried to wedge some sort of classroom in the home into our lives failed miserably, I'm happy to say. There were times, too, when it was appropriate to have conversations about school as an option for our children, and each time our kids decided it still wasn't the best choice for them and we've supported them in their decisions. As they've grown and entered their teen years, we have had similar and numerous conversations about college-should they attend, how could they attend as unschoolers, is it worth going into debt (and maybe never getting out of debt for college), are there ways to make it affordable, what would they study, what would they do instead of college?-all good questions and not too dissimilar to the questions all young people grapple with when planning for their future as young adults. As parents, neither Alex or I expect or urge college, nor do we believe that college is the only path to successful adulthood, especially since we already consider our teens to be successful people. We are also cognizant of the immense societal pressures young people face and know that whether we agree with it or not, having a college degree can bestow certain privileges, be it social or economic.

And so we've had endless discussions about college. And we've felt validated all the many occasions either of our teens has been complimented on their competency, skill, demeanor, and knowledge. That Olivia has been mistaken for a several-years-in academic too many times to count, tells us that knowledge and insight are free and available from many sources. We understand that intelligence and accomplishment is not doled out beyond wrought iron gates and brick walls for a price. We've also had many discussions about creating a life without college, or traveling instead of college, or combining some of both and what those options might look like.

In April 2014, Olivia hopped on a bus that would take her to an event held on a small campus in down east Maine. There, she found a lot to like-the small, close-knit community, activism, environmental commitment, and the stunning location. Over the next months, she found herself thinking about this place. By fall, she was weighing the pros and cons of maybe attending and finally, in December, because this college also matched her "heart values", as she calls them, she made the decision to apply. In January, while she crafted her essay and and asked for three letters of recommendation (which she received, with such joy and care), I spent a week writing up a curriculum vitae for her that covered the last four years, and it ended up being quite a nice academic and community resume for her. With her application submitted, she did what all prospective college kids do, and waited.

In March, she got a call from the school and when she came downstairs to tell me, I burst into happy tears. And then came the mail.



What's more, she was awarded the Presidential Scholarship and she was returning to UMM in mid-April for the same annual event, but this time as a prospective student. We're so proud of her! Olivia gave careful consideration to her needs and desires, her passions, her core values and made the best decision for her, and she made it all happen! She absolutely has our love and support and we trust that she will soak up every opportunity UMM offers her, and we know, too, that UMM is gaining a passionate, dedicated student.





In May, Olivia officially completed eighteen years of unschooling and we celebrated with a graduation party with friends and family at the camp point. I wrote then that "some folks think it's pointless to "graduate" an unschooler since they are not in school and learning doesn't just end. To that I say that it is worth celebrating someone adhering to their path, to mark the transition from this life at home to new adventures, to congratulate them for trusting in themselves enough to know that school was not the place for them against all societal, cultural, and familial pressure. As for learning, of course it doesn't end, what a silly thing!"

























We lucked out with such a gorgeous day spent with family and friends. The camp point was covered in the delicate pink lady slipper blooms. We all had our first swim, we took the canoe out, we laughed and told stories, played cards and roasted marshmallows. It was such a perfect way to honor Olivia's past and future journey.



At the end of June, Olivia and Alex drove the three hours to Machias to spend the weekend at student orientation. There, Olivia became further acquainted with the small campus, the staff, other students and some of her future professors. She explored the art department where she will spend most of her time as an Interdisciplinary Fine Arts major. She also found time to track down the campus radio station and some of its student staff to chat them up about possible programing and she's looking forward to the possibility of having one or two shows in the fall. Olivia and Alex spent some time exploring the area before returning home and visited Lubec and West Quoddy Head Light, the easternmost point in the United States, as well.  I think they had a good time together and I'm grateful for that.

As for this summer, Olivia works 25 hours a week as a paid intern doing outreach and education. She's definitely learned the art of networking and keeping contacts with people who are engaged in community and social change and she seems to have a real knack for this type of organizational work. She must, because in addition to her paid work, she serves on two other boards plus is part of a planning committee. Whew! It will be interesting to see where this road might lead her.

We're extremely proud of Olivia. She showed such commitment to her goals and though it might not look like the path so many other young people have taken, she's laid out her own course and has followed it. This is an exciting time for her and we're happy for her and we will continue to support her on this next part of her journey. Unschoolers can and do choose college and they can absolutely make it there their own way. College doesn't have to be a destination, but for some it may be a good fit. I have no doubt Olivia will shape her time at UMM into something meaningful and wonderful.

This Spring On The Farm

There is never a lack of things to do on a farm. This spring (and now summer), in addition to putting in a large, proper garden (and weeding said garden), establishing flower beds and meadows, weeding, trimming, transplanting, and mowing, there is simply the shoring up, the cleaning out, the making way.

There is also the noticing. The observing. The taking it all in.









































One of the exciting changes here On Bradstreet Farm has been preparing for, then raising our ducklings and chickens. We had initially planned to just get chickens this spring, but after Olivia did more reading about egg-laying ducks, we put in an order for six female Khaki Campbells. Three weeks after our ducklings arrived, we picked up our 15 chicks.



















So far, we are all completely smitten with the ducks. They are wonderful animals. Hilarious, smart, energetic, sociable, and beautiful. And they eat slugs and snails, so bonus. Also? Starting around five months old, they will begin laying eggs and each duck can lay up to 320+ eggs a year! So, extra bonus.

We've named the ducks Odella, Jemima, Luna, Pippa, Millie and Tilly. We aren't able to truly tell them apart yet, though there is one that has a khaki green bill, so we call her Pippa, and Tilly has the darkest, seal brown head.

We have names for the chickens planned, as well, and our list includes suitably old-fashioned names chosen from both sides of our family trees. Gertrude, Bertha, Irma, and Avis are perfect hen names, don't you think?

As you can see, our days here are full- meaningful, beautiful, wonderful. We feel ever so slightly more settled, more entrenched with each project, with each accomplishment, with each nurtured plant or animal.  Everyday we feel more a part of this farm. It's a good feeling.

Amy And Alex Go On A Windjammer Cruise

I have long wanted to go sailing. More specifically, sailing on a schooner or windjammer. So for my birthday in April, Alex gave me the itinerary for our Friday-Sunday trip aboard the windjammer, Mercantile, out of Camden, Maine. The trip was just for the two of us, making this the first time in years that we have gotten away together for more than an overnight.

For more than a month, I anticipated our trip and hoped the weather would be good (we were going out on the first sail of the season) and I tried to envision what it would be like to be sailing along Maine's beautiful coast. Then Memorial Weekend arrived and our bags were packed and we fussed over the plans with the teens, whose good hands the homestead (and our six new, week-old-ducklings) lay.

From our farm to Camden is about 40 minutes over the rolling hills of the Georges River Scenic Byway, and we once again found ourselves disbelieving that we live in such a gorgeous, and beloved by us, part of Maine.

Folks, I snapped almost 500 photos. These are just a few in comparison. You're welcome.


Friday, May 23

The forecast was for rain showers and a high in the mid-50s, which is why we had winter gear packed. Alex and I had a quick lunch at the Camden Deli, the town already teeming with tourists for the holiday weekend, and then we made our way to the Maine Windjammer Cruises office to check in. We soon learned that we would be sailing with nine other guests, plus crew. We met Captain Ray, exchanged hellos with the other guests, and our bags were humped across docks and one ship to the Mercantile. Moments later, we each were boarding one ship, crossing it, and then stepping over water onto the Mercantile. Everything already seemed exciting.





Once on board, we were introduced to Captain Gus and the rest of the crew, given instructions for navigating the windjammer safely (there are no stairs, only ladders, so go down backwards) and we were shown to our cabins. Alex and I had a double bed in a private cabin with a porthole and that's about all we knew to expect.









Our cabin was one among four (five?) others in a compartment (of three such compartments) and we shared one head. Everything was wee and efficient and cozy. We laughed with other guests about the tight quarters and we learned that no one else had sailed like this before, either.





We pulled out of the harbor around 3pm and the rain and clouds were clearing and it was warming a bit. It would turn out to be a gorgeous afternoon and evening.



Once out in open water, the crew got to work raising the sails, and Alex jumped in to help. Later, Alex and I kept remarking to each other about how ridiculously picturesque everything was. Like, did you seriously help crew as we passed a darling lighthouse? Does one of the crew, O.B., seriously look like he's in Master and Commander cosplay? (Yes, yes he did, and as we discovered later, this was deliberate.) Don't say I didn't warn you, folks. Prepare yourself for extremely ridiculous Maine postcards ahead.







O.B. (or is it Obie? With apologies.)



Captain Gus





With the sails up, we were underway, always within sight of shore. Everyone milled about, making introductions and asking questions. The good smells wafting from the galley promised a delicious dinner.













We discovered that the crew was mostly comprised of young people who were new (or fairly new) to sailing, and so this first sail of the season was largely a training exercise as well, which just made things even more fascinating to observe. Captain Ray asserted strenuously, as he was giving instructions for coiling rope, that the prettier it looks, the more functional it is. Ah, I so concur, Captain Ray.



Captain Ray with Crew



Israel



Around 6pm, we sailed into Pulpit Harbor, home of Pulpit Rock (where the osprey nest and we were told, have done so for hundreds of years), in North Haven, and we dropped anchor and prepared for dinner. What a gorgeous location!







Alex helped take the sails down and then we relaxed, taking in the stunning view, until dinner.





Below decks, the kitchen crew was hard at work cooking our dinner on a wood-fired cookstove. Every so often, we would see one of the cooks pop their head up the ladder as they tried to cool off. Dinner turned out to be amazing. On a grill on the side of the boat, steaks sizzled, and we were told to help ourselves to as much corn, lobster and steak as we liked, there was plenty. Alex and I ate a lobster each and shared a third. We ate all this with a salad, fanned baked potatoes, and rolls served with compound butter. A chocolate zucchini cake was dessert. It was so good. So good. As people who enjoy cooking, we were so appreciative of the kitchen crew's hard work and expertise. The other thing we really liked a lot, was that we all ate together, crew and guests, which meant we got to know a little about everyone.













After dinner, the crew went straight to work cleaning everything in sight. The decks were washed, all surfaces were scrubbed, and they formed a dish washing line. The rest of us got lost in conversation with each other and we each took a zillion photos of the sunset. And as if all of that wasn't picturesque enough, at dusk, Captain Gus brought out lanterns and placed them all over, which provided both more photo opportunities, as well as a bit of heat and light.



















We soon went to bed, thrilled that the day had turned out to be so beautiful and that the trip was just as amazing as we had hoped.

Saturday, May 24

As with camping, we went to be with the sun and rose with the sun. Sleeping in our bunk took some adjusting, and our first night was a bit noisy due to a necessary maintenance issue, but it hardly mattered. We got some sleep and as soon as I heard footsteps on deck, I grabbed my camera and snapped some photos of our cabin from my position in our bunk, just for perspective.





I woke Alex, certain we were the only ones still in bed, and so we went up on deck for 630am coffee. It turned out that very few of the other passengers were up and it was the crew, once again cleaning everything, who I had heard. The kitchen crew had set out coffee, tea and apple cinnamon muffins for the early risers, and we sat with Laverne and Eric from Nebraska on what was a much cooler, gray, morning. Second breakfast was served around 830am, and we all helped ourselves to stacks of pancakes. Meanwhile, lunch was already being prepared by the kitchen crew. While I sipped my tea, I heard a snort of breath on the water and I was able to snap some photos of a small harbor seal who had come to see who was anchored in her cove. (It's obnoxious, really. I did warn you.)











Sometime in the morning, Alex took a shower, located in the galley, behind the cookstove, where, using your foot, you pump hot water from the tank into the shower stall. The trick is finding the middle ground between boiling and freezing. I had a shower after breakfast.

Soon after, the sails were raised, as was the anchor, and Alex helped with that task.











Saturday was definitely our coldest day. The morning was foggy and chilly, and we all bundled into our heavy coats and hats (if we had them, some did not.) There wasn't much wind at the start, either. It wasn't until about lunch time that the day cleared, and while still brisk out on the water, the sun was most welcome. Alex and I had a lovely long chat with Laverne from Nebraska, by way of Belize, about gardening and cooking.







Lunch was brought up on deck and we were offered a huge pot of fish chowder to go with the apple walnut salad and herb cheese biscuits, with banana bread pudding with chocolate orange ganache, following. Twist our arms and all that, (though I admit, I'm so not a chocolate orange fan, so I gave Alex all my chocolate topping.)







Just after lunch, I realized we were sailing past Castine, one of my childhood hometowns. What a treat to be able to see the town from the windjammer, and as we sailed past Dice Head, I was also able to spot one of the homes that we rented, right on those same rocky cliffs, called Spindrift (I think it's the one with the flagpole). Wow.





For the bulk of the afternoon, Alex and I stayed on deck, taking in the details and views as we tacked outside Searsport, past Turtle Head, and headed around Islesboro (pronounce the "S"). It was cold. Most of the passengers opted to stay warm in the galley, as it was overcast again, and the plan was for dinner to be served there, as well. It seemed strange that we really weren't that far from the farm and we knew that just over those hills was our home.

By day's end, we would realize just how sun and wind burned we were.












Both of us, looking a little rough.





Turtle Head









Islesboro and Islesboro Ferry

As we rounded Islesboro, Alex recounted his childhood memories of his mother taking him and his sister over on the ferry from Lincolnville, to spend the day on the shore and exploring the island. He said he remembered the beach roses that lined the shore at the ferry terminal. Alex has also camped out on Turtle Head, before. I swear I had never heard these stories until this trip.



It was nearly dinnertime, so we both went down to the galley to warm up. We both were in layers with scarves and hats, and were still cold, so I can't imagine how uncomfortable some of the other guests were. Then again, Captain Gus was barefoot the entire time, so I suppose it's all about what you are used to. Just know that if you go on a similar trip in the early or late season (anytime), pay heed to the suggested packing list and bring layers, you won't regret it. On the other hand, warming up in the galley is a treat, working in the galley is like working in an oven.



Alex with Jason



Eric and Laverne



Annie







Andrea shivers and the cooks swelter



Lasagna dinner was delicious. As were the chocolate chip cookies.



After dinner, some of us stayed in the galley for conversation, and we got to hear from both the captains a bit about some of their experiences with former crew and life in general. But, stifling yawns and feeling sufficiently warm, we got ourselves to bed by 930pm. I think the second night went much better for most of us.

Sunday, May 25

We had anchored on the east side of Gilkey Harbor, in view of rolling hills bursting with spring color and a few uh, shacks, on the island. Alex and I were once again, up with the early birds for coffee and tea at 630am. There was little wind and the sun was breaking through the clouds. It turned out to be another chilly day on the water, but sunny, which was a relief to all, (though we were all very grateful for escaping the forecasted rain.)





We saw a bunch of seals on a sandbar and watched as a few swam towards us, curious about us. We were reminded by Captain Gus, that going out early in the season has the advantage of having a quiet trip, with few boats or recreational craft around, which was very evident that calm morning.





By the time second breakfast was served, the skies were brilliant blue. Breakfast was two different quiche/tortes, one was steak and potato and the other was spinach, lobster, sweet potato, and it was heavenly. Oh, yum. Which is why it was so hard to see the leftovers go overboard (to feed the lobsters), as this was our last day out and not a one of us thought to bring a solar refrigerator or even an ice pack with cooler. So sad (but understandable).









As the crew cleaned up from breakfast, the windjammer, pushed by the small power boat, headed around Islesboro back towards Camden. We spent our last hours visiting with our new friends, taking in the sites, trying to keep the wind from blasting us, and feeling generally happy to be going home.







This was an amazing trip, and I'm well aware of what a true gift it was to be given such an opportunity. A weekend aboard a windjammer was just long enough, I think, especially in the early season. We got a feel for the routine and expectations, and for the accommodations and we both really enjoyed the experience. Still, it was good to be back in Camden Harbor by 11am, where it was much warmer on land, and know that these antique ships are just a short trip away, waiting to take us on another adventure. Much thanks the captains, crew, galley crew and my family, for the memories.