Half-baked Homeschool

Ok, no sleigh bells really. I did scream as my saucer sled went careening down a pretty sleep slope, but my screaming voice sounds nothing like sleigh bells, to be sure. We did manage to walk around in a winter wonderland, though.

With snow promised for Sunday night, we spontaneously booked a cabin in a North Georgia development where we one day hope to build a home. After church we piled everything one might need if stranded for a week with no electricity in a remote mountain cabin and took off. We waited for the flakes as we drove up, and as we ate dinner in the cabin, and as we sat around the fire telling stories before bed. It wasn't until everyone else was nestled in for the night that I looked up from my book to see about a half-inch on the ground and more coming down rapidly. We awoke to this:


We had the whole unspoiled place to ourselves, since the big snow happened on a Sunday night, when no one was spending the weekend (a benefit of unemployment and homeschooling). It was breathtakingly beautiful, and the sledding was top-notch.


Afterwards there was hot cocoa. And wet clothes everywhere with no clothes dryer. And then they went out and did it again.

Later on, my husband and I did indeed conspire by the fire (I always thought is was perspire when I was little).

When it comes to facing plans unafraid, though, I need some encouragement. Ann Voskamp offered some timely thoughts last week.

One plan we had to face: getting home.

We weren't even sure we could get off the property, but we were running out of whipped cream, so we gave it a shot. I'm happy to report that we arrived home safely, and school's closed tomorrow, too (and our hybrid program with it)! Yippee!