Places I Grew Up: Homeschool Co-Op

For a while we were part of a community of homeschooling families named MACHE for Mountain Area Christian Home Educators that met a nearby church. It looks almost like I remember, except for the fence and fewer trees.

When we had band lessons under Bart, we would come here one day a week and then a place in town on another. We would assemble our instruments in the foyer behind the auditorium, where we would practice, left in the image. I started with the clarinet and Andrew with the flute. We had had some exposure to reading sheet music before, I think, but for me this really solidified reading treble music. (Later, I would take piano under Mary and solidify reading bass.)

I don't know how much I knew about the clarinet when I started. (We used to watch Boston Pops, and in one of our unit studies Mom made a poster of an orchestra with circle stickers to represent the seats and different colors for instrument classes like woodwinds.) I'd probably play every instrument invented if I could. At one point I wanted to learn drums. I think I remember meeting Bart about me playing brass, which was his forte (pun intended!), but we thought my asthma would be a problem. 

Dad had played trumpet in his high school's marching band. He has lots of trumpet albums (Maynard Ferguson, Herb Alpert, etc.), a few recent ones I think from my grandmother Celeste. And some synthesizer ones too, like Isao Tomita. We had a synth (Roland I think) that Andrew and I liked to play, especially later. Mom had played flute and guitar. Andrew and Matthew would later go on to learn guitar from a teacher up in the mountains named Don. I think before that, Matthew and Haley learned trumpet and flute in town from Bart's son.

It's probably for the best that I landed on something quieter than drums or brass. Clarinet also put me in a good position to later play alto sax. Saxophone interludes are still one of my favorite things about 80s music!

One clarinet I used I borrowed from a family who also played in the band. There was tape on the bell and sometimes it would fall off. A little embarrassing to have that kind of attention from the whole class. There are life lessons there, though. I got another one later, still have it. Wonder if it still works. (Wonder if I should get new reeds before I try. 20 year old spit! 😶)

If I remember correctly the same family helped drive us to band when Matthew had heart surgery. The mom had beads that spelled her name on her keychain. Don't remember much of our conversation except that I mispronounced a word -- I learned dressage is more like massage than message. I learn new languages to avoid making that kind of faux pas. (But please don't ask me to say that out loud; haven't learned French yet. 😉) Edit: Reword and add note, because I don't think this did justice to how very kind not just she and her family were but also everyone was during that time. We had a lot of help, and I'm very thankful for all of it. 

Band is what I remember most here, but there were other things as well. We attended a production of Pilgrim's Progress here. Some things we tried a couple of times: a 4-H group, a bell choir. One of our more regular ones was a chess club. I don't win at chess much, so one game when I was ahead I started taking out every opposing piece I could to clinch the win. It was a stalemate. 😬

We took standardized tests here. One time I finished a test early and drew a koala eating tapioca on scratch paper we were given. (It made sense at the time.) The proctor made my day by complimenting me on spelling tapioca correctly. 

When I was young, I made the best painting in my life so far at that building. (Not saying much! 😛 Art's not my strong suit.) It was a mountain scene that reminded me of one my grandmother Judy painted. She showed us that mountain once when visiting her mother, my great-grandmother Lillian (a.k.a. Granny; we call her by the same name Mom does!), in El Paso. 

One time I was making biscuits but I forgot to take them out of the oven when we had a class. Worse, I didn't realize until we were on our way back, when I told Mom. We worried that I burned the house down! Fortunately it was a short drive and we found only very well-cooked (re: charred) biscuits.

Mom taught creative writing and bookmaking. I made a book of poems and a murder mystery based off the comedy "Murder by Death." They're not as good as I remembered. One part in the beginning of Gotta Clue made me chuckle like a book I found after college, John Swartzwelder's "The Time Machine Did It," which I highly recommend. Also, the poems about pets are nice. (One of my chores was to take care of our pets.)