Anyone can come to my house and meet my kid and talk to him about unschooling. Anyone can see my extensive dust collection, my stupid dog, my hideous, pinching pigeon. That's all stuff I've talked about here. I'm a real person, with a real kid. If I could make my scanner work I'd put his picture up.

I don't know how I could help anyone thinking about unschooling if they couldn't see into my life and as much as it's possible from an e-mail list, see that the words I type are lived out here first, with a genuine kid.

I'm in Deer Lodge, Montana. Anyone can come and visit.

We played at the river yesterday. We threw rocks at floating ice chunks until we couldn't feel our fingers any more. We had a snowball fight. We went sledding. We watched "Attack of the Crab Monsters" and read about dinosaurs. We played Master Labyrinth and chess. We stood on our heads. We made peanut butter and bird seed surprise for the Flickers.

Today we're going to Grandma's house. She's making fresh tortillas and we'll visit with Dylan's uncle because he's flying back to Anchorage on Monday. We'll probably watch a movie there, too. I'll make a pan of fudge to take along.

My real and happy kid says a lot more about unschooling than I could ever convey by analyzing human nature. If I'm afraid to talk about my real unschooling life, how will I single-handedly change the world for the better? I've printed out my super hero license and I've sewn my Tick suit. Now, Evildoers, Eat My Justice!