Once upon a time, there was a mom named Smrt Mama, with three lovely children, one of whom was unhappily public-schooled. She was miserable, her child was miserable, but she lacked the self-confidence and knowledge to make the leap to homeschooling. She was homeschool-curious, but didn’t know where to start, how to start, if to start.
Then there was Patchfire, and she was good. She placed The Well Trained Mind into Smrt Mama’s hand. She walked Smrt Mama and Officer Daddyman through curricula and scheduling. She gave Smrt Mama books on the philosophical workings of homeschooling. She gave Smrt Mama curricula to get started. She answered questions with infinite patience and she agreed to teach science classes to Captain Science.
One day, Patchfire fell in love with a house. The house was beautiful, had many bedrooms, had a completely finished basement with full second kitchen, and, miracle of miracles, was in the neighborhood right behind Smrt Mama’s. The children could walk to each other’s houses. Smrt Mama and Patchfire could co-op chickens (at Smrt Mama’s, on her half-acre) and vegetables (at Patchfire’s, in her flat, sunny, already-garden-plotted backyard) together. The house was perfect in every way, and Patchfire and Smrt Mama rejoiced.
Now there is but once catch: Patchfire’s old house must sell so that she and all the Mitnens (that’s what we call them, since Tank says “Mitnen” for Mister and Missus, and they’re Mitnen Ham and Mitnen Tash) can move into The House of All Things Good.
Here is what Smrt Mama needs from you: She needs you to pray, light candles, vibrate on a higher frequency, send positive thoughts out into the universe, or just plain old think good thoughts for Patchfire and the rest of the Mitnens to sell their house quickly and easily, so that they can move into the house that’s just through the woods from my house.
I love Patchfire. I (in a very platonic way) love her husband. I adore her children. My children adore her children. My husband likes them all is his stolith* manly cop way. She must be within walking distance of me. This is absolutely imperative. Please send the Great Universal/Divine Love her way.
*My awesome Japanese friend Ai made up this word. We think it means a cross between stoic and stolid. She says, “The Japanese are so stolith. They don’t know how to have any fun.”
