But What About Overpopulation? Part 1

Those of us with larger than average families do sometimes grow a bit tired of total strangers asking me us defend our families and our children’s right to walk this earth.

I would often like to ask those people a question of my own, but I don’t. I do wonder, though, why anybody who thinks that overpopulation is a problem would birth even a single child? Isn’t it hypocritical to birth a child while believing that overpopulation is a serious problem? I often ponder these things.

See, if I believed that overpopulation is a serious problem, I would stand by my beliefs and I would not birth a child. I would adopt if I had to have children, or I would remain childless. If I believed in overpopulation, I would recognize that it was a violation of that belief to birth even one child to add to the world’s population.

But I do not believe in overpopulation. I believe humans are a natural part of the earth with just as much right to be here and reproduce as any other organism.
Unlike other organisms, human beings also *create* resources and develop creative ways of managing resources. Yes, we mess up. But we try to fix it.

I also believe that a good many of the ideas about overpopulation are simply myths, based on the errors of Dr. Paul Erhlich, author of Population Bomb (who got his ideas from Thomas Malthus, a British economist in the 1700’s ).
Erhlich, like Malthus before him, has been wrong about just about everything, but for some reason this doesn’t seem as good for front page news as his gloomy mis-predictions about scarcity of resources and overpopulation.

Dr. Paul Erhlich made a bet with an American economist about his theories. We’ll find out what that bet was and who won in part 2.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Ehrlich Quotes

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The Equuschick prefers parenting puppies.

The Equuschick believes that with children, the maxim “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it” is an excellent one to follow.
Thus, when FYG and FYB are happily playing out of doors with nary a quarrelsome sound to be heard, The Equuschick keeps a strictly hands off policy. She does know deep inside herself that it is actually those occasions when children are the quietest and happiest that are the greatest occasions for concern but sometimes it is just too tempting to hide inside and enjoy the quiet.
It is only poetic justice then, that when she goes outside to the barn she finds her neat stack of hay bales torn down, torn open, and spread far and wide over the floor of the barn, with a pitchfork standing neatly in the middle.
The FYB did this to the hay so that there would be “more.”
Privately, The Equuschick believes this is only the story he told himself so that his conscience could be as comfortable as the rest of him while he played with the pitchfork.

Ah,well. No use crying over spilled hay.

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Riddle Rendezvous

These are from the book “The Grammar of Poetry,” by Matt Whitling.

We are little creatures;
all of us have different features.
One of us in glass is set;
one of us you’ll find in jet.
Another you may see in tin,
and the fouth is boxed within.
If the fifth you should pursue,
it can never fly from you.
What are we?

What can run but never walks,
has a mouth but never talks,
has a head but never weeps,
has a bed but never sleeps?

The man who invented it, doesn’t want it.
The man who bought it, doesn’t need it.
The man who needs it, doesn’t know it.

Can you guess what the answers are?
I only know the middle one. : )

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Copywork

It is better to inspire the heart with a noble sentiment than to teach the mind a truth of science.
~ Edward Brooks

front matter, Child’s Calendar Beautiful

DHM: Ugh. This is one of those deplorable false dichotomies so prevalant in education. Quick, let us look at another quote from the frontmatter so as to remove this taste from our minds:

In the course of our reading we should lay up in our minds a store of goodly thoughts in well-wrought words, which shall be a living treasure of knowledge always with us, and from which, at various times, and amidst all the shifting of circumstances, we might be sure of drawing some comfort, guidance, and sympathy.
~ Sir Arthur Helps

Posted in Child's Calendar Beautiful (nature and other seasonal poems from the book) | 4 Comments

The Equuschick prefers parenting puppies.

The Equuschick believes that with children, the maxim “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it” is an excellent one to follow.
Thus, when FYG and FYB are happily playing out of doors with nary a quarrelsome sound to be heard, The Equuschick keeps a strictly hands off policy. She does know deep inside herself that it is actually those occasions when children are the quietest and happiest that are the greatest occasions for concern but sometimes it is just too tempting to hide inside and enjoy the quiet.
It is only poetic justice then, that when she goes outside to the barn she finds her neat stack of hay bales torn down, torn open, and spread far and wide over the floor of the barn, with a pitchfork standing neatly in the middle.
The FYB did this to the hay so that there would be “more.”
Privately, The Equuschick believes this is only the story he told himself so that his conscience could be as comfortable as the rest of him while he played with the pitchfork.

Ah,well. No use crying over spilled hay.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Riddle Rendezvous

These are from the book “The Grammar of Poetry,” by Matt Whitling.

We are little creatures;
all of us have different features.
One of us in glass is set;
one of us you’ll find in jet.
Another you may see in tin,
and the fouth is boxed within.
If the fifth you should pursue,
it can never fly from you.
What are we?

What can run but never walks,
has a mouth but never talks,
has a head but never weeps,
has a bed but never sleeps?

The man who invented it, doesn’t want it.
The man who bought it, doesn’t need it.
The man who needs it, doesn’t know it.

Can you guess what the answers are?
I only know the middle one. : )

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In Which A Happy Anniversary Is Wished to HM and DHM

Happy 23’rd Anniversary HM and DHM, may you live long and happily together for many more long years to come.
Love,
*The Progeny

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October Poem and Coloring Page

Below I share the poem October’s Bright Blue Weather, by Helen Hunt Jackson

The same author wrote this poem.

But first, I found this short biography of Helen Hunt Jackson:

about helen hunt jackson

Her life in Colorado led her to a knowledge of the Indians and of their treatment by the government. Her sympathy was with the Indians and she hoped her book entitled “Ramona” would do as much for them as Uncle Tom’s Cabin did for the slaves. Mrs Jackson’s literary work will be abiding, but her life with its dark shadow and bright sunlight, its deep affections, and sympathy with the oppressed will furnish a rich setting for the gems of thought which she gave to the world.” (biography taken from  Teacher’s Month by Month Books edited by Sara Hicks Willis, Florence Virginia Farme)

 

October’s Bright Blue Weather

O SUNS and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October’s bright blue weather;

When loud the bumble-bee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And Golden-Rod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;

When Gentians roll their fringes tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;

When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;

When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields, still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;

When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;

When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October’s bright blue weather.

O, sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October’s bright blue weather.

~ Helen Hunt Jackson

This poem is also in The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Elson Readers, Book 5, by William H. Elson and Christine M. Keck, where we find the following suggested exercises:

Discussion:

1. What comparison is made in the first stanza between
June and October?

2. Why is the bumblebee described as “loud”?

3. Compare the description of the goldenrod in this poem with the
description of the goldenrod in “September.”

4. Compare the

description of the apples in this poem with the description of the
apples in “September.”

5. Find the line that tells why the “gentians
roll their fringes tight.”

6. What is the color of the woodbine
leaves?

7. What are the “wayside things” usually called?

8. What do
good comrades like to do in October?

9. Why are we sorry to have
October go?

10. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: fragrant;
twining; aftermath; haunts.

11. Pronounce: rival; vagrant; freighting.

PumpkinPhrases for Study: rival for one hour, hush of woods, belated,
thriftless vagrant, count like misers, satin burs, count all your
boasts, idle, golden freighting.

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Copywork

It is better to inspire the heart with a noble sentiment than to teach the mind a truth of science.
~ Edward Brooks

front matter, Child’s Calendar Beautiful

DHM: Ugh. This is one of those deplorable false dichotomies so prevalant in education. Quick, let us look at another quote from the frontmatter so as to remove this taste from our minds:

In the course of our reading we should lay up in our minds a store of goodly thoughts in well-wrought words, which shall be a living treasure of knowledge always with us, and from which, at various times, and amidst all the shifting of circumstances, we might be sure of drawing some comfort, guidance, and sympathy.
~ Sir Arthur Helps

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Bring Me a Unicorn…

Bring Me a Unicorn is a collection of diaries and letters written by Anne Morrow Lindbergh from 1922-1928; therefore, all written before she was Mrs. Lindbergh. Many of the entries were written before she’d ever even met Charles Lindbergh.
Anne’s writing is some of my favorite, and I always pick up extra copies of her journals when I come across them. Here is an excerpt from the introduction to BMaU which I found particularly charming. She is writing of her parents and what her family life was like when she was a young girl. See how many names and titles you have read:

“My father used to say he was the son of a teacher, brother of a teacher (Alice Morrow), married to a teacher, and the father of a teacher. (My sister Elisabeth later started a nursery school in Englewood). My mother actually taught school for several years before her marriage, but my father, except for tutoring, never entered the teaching profession….
He was a curious, hungry, and ceaseless learner, an inveterate reader of history, philosophy, economics (Herodotus, Plutarch’s Lives, and Plato were ranged beside Froude, Bagehot, and Prescott).
With such a propensity for teaching, it is not strange that much stress was put on our education, both moral and intellectual. It started early in teh home with nightly prayers and evening reading by our mother from the meritorious Heidi, The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts, and Little Women, progressing to the Greek myths and the classics. On Sunday evenings there were Bible stories adn sometimes sermons on the green sofa in her bedroom. (This hour was in addition to early morning prayers, kneeling down in a row by our parents; big bed, followed by regular church service.) Our father also occasionally read to us from The Just So Stories adn The Jungle Book. But his teaching was not entirely recreational. Breakfasts were sometiems made horrendous by the public practice of our multiplication tables or questions of addtion or subtraction that were shot at us from the head of the table. To this day if someon asks me suddenly: ” How much is 7 times 8?” my mind blanks to the child’s frozen landscape of panic….
From these worthy efforts we went on to local schools…”

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