Friday, June 5, 2015

Life on the Dead Chicken Ranch

by Sofie Couch

People often ask about the writer’s life. Some will tell you it’s glamour, glamour, glamour. Hey, who am I to argue? (Excuse me while I mop up the coffee that just got spewed on my computer monitor.)

The other delusion I have to squash is this “homeschool” thing that we do here on the Dead Chicken Ranch while I’m living this glamorous writer life. I begin to see the image others have by the questions they ask. “Do you have a classroom in your home dedicated to homeschooling? How are your children socialized? How do you test them and meet typical standards?” I think they credit me with more than I’m capable of delivering. I would love to paint you a picture of our homeschooling endeavors that resemble a Little House on the Prairie standard, but alas…

It makes perfect sense that folks would expect it to look at least something like typical school. I can assure you, homeschool looks as different in each home as there are homeschoolers. I don’t deserve the accolades that so many have offered. “I don’t know how you do it? I know I could never….” Yeah. I couldn’t do it either.

We don’t call it the Dead Chicken Ranch for nothing. (I guess you could call that a biology project gone full-circle. I’d like to say “no animals were harmed,” but… sigh.

Then there was the ecology project that was launched when my son decided that his 10cent feeder fish needed a larger habitat. Three hundred dollars and a twelve foot, hand-dug pond later, we would call that a success if not for the heron that showed up at the end of the summer and cleaned us out.

Most recently, we’ve been taking a more traditional route. The graphic design certificate program was MY idea. I wanted to take the classes, but DS decided that now, after years of spurning anything that resembled traditional school, he’s crashing my party. So for the past two semesters, my son, my baby, my 6ft. 6in. 16 year old, is taking classes with his mommy at the local community college.


It’s a hoot. We hit the vending machine before class. We share the same text book. And my son can help his old mother with her homework. And THAT is what homeschool looks like here on the Dead Chicken Ranch… and that’s what a writer’s life looks like too. I write. I drink my coffee. Some days, we stay in our jammies and binge on movies, (based on Jane Austen novels, of course). We just finished cleaning the fish pond. (We have three new fishies – Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles.) Now, I make time for graphic design classes in and around writing… and THAT is a writer’s life. I love to hear about yours!


7 comments:

  1. Love it, Sophie. Last school year, when my daughter and family were in Guam, I was my granddaughter's high school "English teacher." She picked out a series of books to read, and I found reader discussion questions online for them. She sent me her answers. I read them for critical thinking and corrected the writing as a grammar lesson. We had a good time with it.

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  2. Forgot to say I'm sorry about your chickens. Been there, too, hawk and fox attacks. But I'm happy to say I now have a nice little flock of five.

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    1. Cudos on the "homeschool" English! That sounds like a great way to spend time with your granddaughter!
      Re: chickens. :( Yep. We were hit by coyotes... multiple times. Sigh. But we've moved on. It's all fishies for us from now on. :)

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  3. I give The Dead Chicken Ranch high marks.

    My writing life? I get up, check email and the internet; have an English muffin & some tea; procrastinate, check the internet; write a bit; procrastinate; write a bit more; procrastinate a bit more; trip to the mailbox; run into neighbor; chat; procrastinate a bit; write a bit more; rummage the cabinets for chocolate, etc., etc., etc.

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    1. Oh, Sandy. That makes me feel so much better! You ARE a kindred spirit!

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  4. Sofie, to another writer your life seems pretty normal -- except, of course, for the dead chickens, hand-dug pond, etc. LOL. Now that our boys are grown and married and live away, home life is very calm. I miss the days of the drama of raising children.

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    1. Thanks, Fran. You mean there's calm at the end of this tunnel? Don't know what I would do with "calm". :)

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