Welcome! Take a seat! I know I will. It has been one crazy week; let me just tell you. My fellows and I are only just getting a moment to breathe. Well, that's just not true. Most everyone else is asleep. These hours are reserved for the insomniacs and those roommates who are still enthralled with each other. I steal in to bring you word from the front of the expedition. I'll start right from the beginning. Oh, who am I, you ask? There will be time for that later. I have a story to tell.
Our individual stories start months, years, and even decades ago, but our story as a fellowship began on Thursday afternoon when most of us arrived at the villas, said our first hellos, and moved boxes and suitcases into our new homes. It was a day of laughter and chaos, with everyone trying to figure out living arrangements, deal with loving mothers, and make new friends. Night came quickly and we slept in our new beds for the first time, many of us still surrounded with the clutter of unpacking. Friday morning came bright and early, and by the time the evening rolled around, we were settled in at the villas and ready to party. Mrs. Bortins held a feast at her house and we danced our feet hot to a fiddle, a banjo, and a guitar playing lively folk music. We danced and laughed ourselves through the evening.
Night fell and the parents left. Leigh pointed out the untouched fire pit at the lakeshore, and between our many scouts and pyromaniacs, we soon had a lovely campfire spitting at our toes. Friday came and went in camaraderie, and we went to bed excited for the next day and the start it would bring, because we knew we had our first meeting in the morning.
We rose early that Saturday, each of us anticipating work assignments and looking forward to meeting together for the first time as a cohort. The second wing of the house being still under construction, we squeezed into the pool room where Mrs. Bortins gave us a few brief instructions and sent us on our way. The morning sped past and the noonday sun left us with no responsibilities and no parents to watch over us. We left for the villas, and one by one, fellows emerged from their houses like flowers bringing life from a dead garden. Soon, nineteen busy teenagers polished five shining villas to a presentable sheen, sweeping driveways, trimming hedges, and cleaning gutters, even picking up the pine cones littering the ground. The smell of baking bread and home cooked meals drifted from house to house, prompting cartoonish antics as passers-by followed their noses into their fellows' kitchens. Our first day by ourselves proved profitable as we embraced our freedom and used our time to make the neighborhood more beautiful.
Sunday morning found us neatly lined up in the pews of Sandhills Presbyterian Church. We raised our voices and sang the Lord’s praises, then worshiped with the congregation before heading back to Mrs. Bortins’ house for lunch. An air of anticipation hung over the lake. The restless clouds reflected the moods of the students as we all prepared for turbulence. We spent our last day of the weekend splashing in the lake until the clouds broke and chased us (and more importantly, our bikes) to shelter. That night we agreed: it was time for our vacation to end. We were ready to get to work.
The next morning, a straggling line of bikes and cars carried a gaggle of sleepy fellows over the hill to the Mandala house. At eight sharp we started devotions with a song and a study of the first Psalm. We quickly woke up as questions and comments flew around the table, and when we broke for class, thirty minutes later, our appetites for discussion had been well whetted.
In the more spacious classroom, Mrs. Bortins pulled us through a morning of algebra and geometry, going back to the very foundations of mathematics, to the things which everyone thinks they know until the rest is stripped away and they have only those basics to work with. We took a short break for lunch and then received our solidified work assignments. Some left for the warehouse to move books and enter data, while others stayed behind, either working on the grounds or online, spreading the word for Mandala. By nightfall, we were all back at the villas, exhausted but triumphant. We celebrated our success with music; one at a time, we all brought our instruments out and played, together or alone, at every imaginable level of skill. As midnight approached, we crept to our beds, reluctantly setting alarms we knew would sound too early.
Tuesday was busy and exciting. It started the same way, with singing and devotions, and then we crammed into our classroom and waited for instruction. Mrs. Bortins overturned everything we knew about numbers as she helped us develop a unique counting system, from drawing single marks on the board to choosing numerals and developing our own rules for addition and multiplication. We finished off the morning with a practice SAT test and a lesson in business sense and managing finances. After lunch, we all went our separate ways again, only meeting up at sunset to swim and play games on the lakeshore. We returned to the villas where a few stragglers joined us for another hour of games, nearly completing the cohort, until the prospect of morning loomed too large to ignore.
By our third morning, the routine was familiar and we straggled in, all on time, ready for discussion. Seth, one of the fellows, led us in a study of Psalm 3, and we warmed our voices and our hearts with a rendition of “It Is Well with My Soul” before we left for the classroom. The schedule of the day was new, as our music tutor, addressed by the fellows as “Master Lord Sensei Skogan” took over to teach us about music theory, the philosophy behind music, and its history. Pens moved frantically or laid forgotten, as discussion about chaos, order, and the purpose of music flew back and forth, too quickly to note. After lunch, we stuffed our supplies in our backpacks and left them under our chairs, and Master Lord Sensei Skogan led us in an hour of choir. We ended on a lovely chord and then rushed off to our various jobs for the evening, where most everyone else is now!
Speaking of work, I still have a few hours to do tonight before our astronomy lesson. I know I’ve been talking your ear off, so let me just say that it’s been good to catch up with you and leave it at that. I’ll be back soon to keep you informed.
Au revoir,
Barnabas
Our individual stories start months, years, and even decades ago, but our story as a fellowship began on Thursday afternoon when most of us arrived at the villas, said our first hellos, and moved boxes and suitcases into our new homes. It was a day of laughter and chaos, with everyone trying to figure out living arrangements, deal with loving mothers, and make new friends. Night came quickly and we slept in our new beds for the first time, many of us still surrounded with the clutter of unpacking. Friday morning came bright and early, and by the time the evening rolled around, we were settled in at the villas and ready to party. Mrs. Bortins held a feast at her house and we danced our feet hot to a fiddle, a banjo, and a guitar playing lively folk music. We danced and laughed ourselves through the evening.
Night fell and the parents left. Leigh pointed out the untouched fire pit at the lakeshore, and between our many scouts and pyromaniacs, we soon had a lovely campfire spitting at our toes. Friday came and went in camaraderie, and we went to bed excited for the next day and the start it would bring, because we knew we had our first meeting in the morning.
We rose early that Saturday, each of us anticipating work assignments and looking forward to meeting together for the first time as a cohort. The second wing of the house being still under construction, we squeezed into the pool room where Mrs. Bortins gave us a few brief instructions and sent us on our way. The morning sped past and the noonday sun left us with no responsibilities and no parents to watch over us. We left for the villas, and one by one, fellows emerged from their houses like flowers bringing life from a dead garden. Soon, nineteen busy teenagers polished five shining villas to a presentable sheen, sweeping driveways, trimming hedges, and cleaning gutters, even picking up the pine cones littering the ground. The smell of baking bread and home cooked meals drifted from house to house, prompting cartoonish antics as passers-by followed their noses into their fellows' kitchens. Our first day by ourselves proved profitable as we embraced our freedom and used our time to make the neighborhood more beautiful.
Sunday morning found us neatly lined up in the pews of Sandhills Presbyterian Church. We raised our voices and sang the Lord’s praises, then worshiped with the congregation before heading back to Mrs. Bortins’ house for lunch. An air of anticipation hung over the lake. The restless clouds reflected the moods of the students as we all prepared for turbulence. We spent our last day of the weekend splashing in the lake until the clouds broke and chased us (and more importantly, our bikes) to shelter. That night we agreed: it was time for our vacation to end. We were ready to get to work.
The next morning, a straggling line of bikes and cars carried a gaggle of sleepy fellows over the hill to the Mandala house. At eight sharp we started devotions with a song and a study of the first Psalm. We quickly woke up as questions and comments flew around the table, and when we broke for class, thirty minutes later, our appetites for discussion had been well whetted.
In the more spacious classroom, Mrs. Bortins pulled us through a morning of algebra and geometry, going back to the very foundations of mathematics, to the things which everyone thinks they know until the rest is stripped away and they have only those basics to work with. We took a short break for lunch and then received our solidified work assignments. Some left for the warehouse to move books and enter data, while others stayed behind, either working on the grounds or online, spreading the word for Mandala. By nightfall, we were all back at the villas, exhausted but triumphant. We celebrated our success with music; one at a time, we all brought our instruments out and played, together or alone, at every imaginable level of skill. As midnight approached, we crept to our beds, reluctantly setting alarms we knew would sound too early.
Tuesday was busy and exciting. It started the same way, with singing and devotions, and then we crammed into our classroom and waited for instruction. Mrs. Bortins overturned everything we knew about numbers as she helped us develop a unique counting system, from drawing single marks on the board to choosing numerals and developing our own rules for addition and multiplication. We finished off the morning with a practice SAT test and a lesson in business sense and managing finances. After lunch, we all went our separate ways again, only meeting up at sunset to swim and play games on the lakeshore. We returned to the villas where a few stragglers joined us for another hour of games, nearly completing the cohort, until the prospect of morning loomed too large to ignore.
By our third morning, the routine was familiar and we straggled in, all on time, ready for discussion. Seth, one of the fellows, led us in a study of Psalm 3, and we warmed our voices and our hearts with a rendition of “It Is Well with My Soul” before we left for the classroom. The schedule of the day was new, as our music tutor, addressed by the fellows as “Master Lord Sensei Skogan” took over to teach us about music theory, the philosophy behind music, and its history. Pens moved frantically or laid forgotten, as discussion about chaos, order, and the purpose of music flew back and forth, too quickly to note. After lunch, we stuffed our supplies in our backpacks and left them under our chairs, and Master Lord Sensei Skogan led us in an hour of choir. We ended on a lovely chord and then rushed off to our various jobs for the evening, where most everyone else is now!
Speaking of work, I still have a few hours to do tonight before our astronomy lesson. I know I’ve been talking your ear off, so let me just say that it’s been good to catch up with you and leave it at that. I’ll be back soon to keep you informed.
Au revoir,
Barnabas
