Using Bayesien Logic to Decide if You Should Homeschool

Using Bayesien Logic to Decide if You Should Homeschool, yellowreadis.com Image Yellow shoes in gravel
 

I can’t homeschool”

It’s too difficult”

I have to work”

I don’t have the patience, smarts, fill-in-the-blank

So, you’ve thought about homeschooling . . . back and forth, pulling hair out until there are little bald patches appearing that can’t be easily covered with a comb-over. You’ve read too many books and articles, and you still can’t decide.

Have you thought about applying a bit of Bayesian thinking to the problem? What? Huh? It’s OK, I’ll walk you though it.
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In My Nightmares I’m Theresa Wiggin

I’ve been trying to come up with good introduction, something punchy, y’know. But I can’t. Closing my eyes I can hear my son avidly discussing trains with DH and my daughter thumping her fork on a table as she eats her breakfast. A few moments peace in order to coherently gather my thoughts, nope, not going to happen . . . oh well. It could be worse. I could be Theresa Wiggin.

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Coding Camp

Coding Camp, yellowreadis.com Image: Black Sand

It’s been a little busy here at homeschool central. And not in the usual way. I signed C up for a coding ‘camp’. No, not a real camp in the bush.  Actually just hanging out in a room with other kids who love programming, with mentors for each child to help them learn how to code. After one day, C begged to be able to go back – so I signed him up for another day – and that wrecked my schedule, so this post is a day late! But it was worth it. Continue reading “Coding Camp”

Living in My Head

A long time ago, so long it’s BC (Before Children), I decided to write a novel. I took a year, battled the muse, created so much stuff that it can be hard to store and that’s just the paper-trail, not the electronic dump! And then I put it aside, got a job and went on with life. That was that.

The problem is, that though I can stuff all the chapters in a cupboard to gather dust, I can’t remove them from my head. My characters haunt me. Every now and then, they will pop out at an inopportune moment (is there an opportune moment I wonder?) and insist that I need to get on with it – they’re not getting any younger. . .
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