A birthday page · June 29, 2026
For Allison — who does everything the long way.
Eight children, all taught at the kitchen table. Two thousand-some miles of the Appalachian Trail, walked in pieces. The Camino. Everest Base Camp. A piano, an accordion, and a house that was rarely quiet. Fifty-five years in, and still gaining elevation.
(swap in assets/)
On foot
She measures her life in miles.
The Appalachian Trail, section by section, with only small stretches left to close. Before that, the Camino de Santiago across northern Spain. And once, the long thin air up to Everest Base Camp. She walks the way she does everything — patiently, all the way to the end.
The walks(swap in assets/)
By ear and by hand
A house that was rarely quiet.
Piano and accordion are hers; the violin and piano she handed to all eight children, one scale at a time. Some of them ended up on the stage at Carnegie Hall. She still plays in a band, for the plain joy of it.
The music(swap in assets/)
Eight, raised at home
She built the school and the choir herself.
Eight children, homeschooled start to finish. Along the way she started societies, ran the lessons, kept the standards high, and somehow kept it loving. The whole enterprise was hers.
The familyA rough tally
Numbers are placeholders — easy to correct.