My girls are pretty self-reliant when it comes to managing their schoolwork, so when our district cancelled in-person classes and switched to online learning, I wasn’t overly involved in their education during the next eight weeks.

I copyedited an English paper for my senior and watched a few snippets of her College Biology lessons, mostly for fun. I patiently and repeatedly explained to my freshman why she still had to do supplemental learning even though, according to our school district, her grades did not require it of her.

The other day, I asked her how computer coding worked and struggled to understand as she explained it. My brain isn’t wired to comprehend languages that don’t result in words on a page, but I have learned a few other things during this period of schooling and sheltering at home.

I’m not only talking about realizations or epiphanies, although those are always lovely. I mean I have actually acquired some new skills and expanded my knowledge base just a bit.

Call me weird, but this is kind of exciting. (It also might be an indication of how boring my life really is, but I choose not to look at it that way.)

• Let’s start with a new word.

I used a fruit-ripening metaphor when I wrote this post about daughter Lilly graduating from high school. I knew there had to be a word for the science of growing fruit, and sure enough, there is. Pomology.

• Next, a fact about one of my favorite hymns that was completely new to me.

The music for “Great is Thy Faithfulness” was written in 1923. That is not, however, what caught my eye when I looked up the song so I could properly attribute a stanza on Twitter recently. Thomas Chisholm, a pastor-turned-insurance-agent from New Jersey, penned the lyrics and included them in a collection of poems he sent to William Runyan, a friend who worked for a hymnal publishing company.

According to this article on Lifeway.com, Runyan was on a trip to Baldwin City, Kan.—a sweet little town about 25 miles from where I live—when he composed the music for “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” How cool is that—a local connection to one of the great hymns of the faith?

Now, about those new skills …

• I taught myself how to cut my own bangs.

I hope to write more about this in a future post about fear. (You’ll understand when you read it.) For now, I’ll just say that if it weren’t for YouTube, my hair probably would have driven me crazy by now.

None of the videos about how to trim perfect side-swept bangs fit my curly hair type exactly, but I cobbled together my own approach and managed to achieve satisfactory results, even with a pair of very dull hair-cutting scissors. Though my trims haven’t been salon-quality, they’ve been good enough. I just wish I had paid closer attention when my sister showed me how she colors her hair.

• My girls and I are learning how to make French macarons.

So far, we’ve made six batches of the recipe in the Magnolia Journal. Our results haven’t come close to magazine status in terms of looks just yet, but they have gotten progressively better. We keep trying, and each round teaches us something new regarding what to do or what not to do. (For example, don’t forget to turn over your penciled templates if you don’t want graphite circles on the bottoms of your cookies.)

And finally, a few epiphanies:

• We can get by on far less toilet paper than we were using before.

When the toilet-paper shortages hit, I lay down the law with my family: “Unless you want to use (and wash, when applicable) cut-up bathroom towels or magazine pages, you’re gonna have to make a concerted effort to cut back.” Thankfully, they did.

• Making progress in one area can help you make progress in others areas.

One Saturday in January, our plans for tiling our kitchen floor fell through when the tile saw Randy borrowed stopped working. We decided to tackle basement organization instead, emptying rooms and moving filing cabinets and rearranging shelves, mostly in an effort to make a dedicated space for our new treadmill. By the time we were done, multiple storage areas had been totally revamped, and I was finally motivated to do something about the household paperwork that had piled up over the last three years (at least).

Which leads me to my last little epiphany …

• Tackling long overdue organizing/paperwork projects isn’t nearly as intimidating once you start.

It took a few days, and during those days, piles of utility bill statements and explanations of benefits and property tax documents pretty much took over the basement. But by the time it was over, I had gotten rid of years of unnecessary paperwork, filed the rest and tasked my children with completing a massive photo-album project I had put off for at least nine years. (They got it done in a matter of days, by the way.)

There you have it—a few of my personal and actual learnings from Spring 2020. What have you learned this spring?

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, Emily Freeman, #TellHisStory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.