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    Education

    Modern Miss Mason

    A Charlotte Mason podcast helping you find freedom in her philosophy. Conversations around childhood, motherhood & education.

    The Modern Miss Mason Podcast is hosted by Leah Boden 🇬🇧

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    Copyright: © A Charlotte Mason Podcast

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    Latest Episodes:
    Wordsworth On Wednesday - Composed On Westminster Bridge May 31, 2023
    Show notes

    Book your conference ticket here: https://www.leahboden.com/conference Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Earth has not any thing to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!


    Wordsworth On Wednesday - My Heart Leaps Up May 24, 2023
    Show notes

    Book in to the Modern Miss Mason Conference and/or sign up to The Collective here: https://www.leahboden.com/ My Heart Leaps Up by William Wordsworth: My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.


    Reading Alone Versus Reading Together - With Leah Boden May 19, 2023
    Show notes

    Ten Ideas For Book Club Questions: Join The Collective: https://www.leahboden.com/the-collective Book Club Questions: 1. What were your initial thoughts about the book? Did your opinion change as you kept reading? 2. How would you describe the author's writing style? Did it enhance or hinder your reading experience? 3. Which character did you really relate to or find the most interesting? Why? 4. Any particular themes or messages that really grabbed your attention? How did the author explore them? 5. What parts of the story hooked or surprised you the most? Did any plot twists totally throw you off? 6. Did the book evoke any strong emotions? Which scenes or moments got you right in the feels? 7. Could you picture the settings described in the book? Did the author do a good job of bringing them to life? 8. Were there any quotes or lines that really spoke to you? Share your favourites and chat about what they meant to you. 9. Did the pacing of the book feel right to you? Were there any parts that dragged or went too fast? 10. What did you make of the ending? Did it leave you satisfied or wanting more? What would you add?


    Wordsworth On Wednesday - To The Daisy May 17, 2023
    Show notes

    To the Daisy by William Wordsworth. With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Daisy! again I talk to thee, For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming Common-place Of Nature, with that homely face, And yet with something of a grace, Which Love makes for thee! Oft on the dappled turf at ease I sit, and play with similes, Loose types of things through all degrees, Thoughts of thy raising: And many a fond and idle name I give to thee, for praise or blame, As is the humour of the game, While I am gazing. A nun demure of lowly port; Or sprightly maiden, of Love's court, In thy simplicity the sport Of all temptations; A queen in crown of rubies drest; A starveling in a scanty vest; Are all, as seems to suit thee best, Thy appellations. A little Cyclops with one eye Staring to threaten and defy, That thought comes next — and instantly The freak is over, The shape will vanish — and behold A silver shield with boss of gold, That spreads itself, some faery bold In fight to cover! I see thee glittering from afar — And then thou art a pretty star; Not quite so fair as many are In heaven above thee! Yet like a star, with glittering crest, Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest; — May peace come never to his nest, Who shall reprove thee! Bright Flower ! for by that name at last, When all my reveries are past, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, Sweet silent creature! That breath'st with me in sun and air, Do thou, as thou art wont, repair My heart with gladness, and a share Of thy meek nature!


    On The Stage And Off: An Actors Life - With Daniel J Carver May 12, 2023
    Show notes

    Today I’m replaying an awesome interview with actor, Daniel Carver, who will be joining us for the Modern Miss Mason conference on the 1st July 2023. PLEASE book your ticket and join us live in Warwickshire or via the livestream (replay will be sent to you) via this link: https://www.leahboden.com/conference


    Wordsworth On Wednesday - Ode, Composed On A May Morning May 10, 2023
    Show notes

    While from the purpling east departs The star that led the dawn, Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts, For May is on the lawn. A quickening hope, a freshening glee, Foreran the expected Power, Whose first-drawn breath, from bush and tree, Shakes off that pearly shower. All Nature welcomes Her whose sway Tempers the year's extremes; Who scattereth lustres o'er noon-day, Like morning's dewy gleams; While mellow warble, sprightly trill, The tremulous heart excite; And hums the balmy air to still The balance of delight. Time was, blest Power! when youth and maids At peep of dawn would rise, And wander forth, in forest glades Thy birth to solemnize. Though mute the song---to grace the rite Untouched the hawthorn bough, Thy Spirit triumphs o'er the slight; Man changes, but not Thou! Thy feathered Lieges bill and wings In love's disport employ; Warmed by thy influence, creeping things Awake to silent joy: Queen art thou still for each gay plant Where the slim wild deer roves; And served in depths where fishes haunt Their own mysterious groves. Cloud-piercing peak, and trackless heath, Instinctive homage pay; Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath To honor thee, sweet May! Where cities fanned by thy brisk airs Behold a smokeless sky, Their puniest flower-pot-nursling dares To open a bright eye. And if, on this thy natal morn, The pole, from which thy name Hath not departed, stands forlorn Of song and dance and game; Still from the village-green a vow Aspires to thee addrest, Wherever peace is on the brow, Or love within the breast. Yes! where Love nestles thou canst teach The soul to love the more; Hearts also shall thy lessons reach That never loved before. Stript is the haughty one of pride, The bashful freed from fear, While rising, like the ocean-tide, In flow the joyous year. Hush, feeble lyre! weak words refuse The service to prolong! To yon exulting thrush the Muse Entrusts the imperfect song; His voice shall chant, in accents clear, Throughout the live-long day, Till the first silver star appear, The sovereignty of May.


    Wordsworth On Wednesday - To My Sister May 03, 2023
    Show notes

    There’s no intro this week, sorry! Thankful I’ve pre-recorded lots of these poems as I have no voice today! - Enjoy the poem, Leah x


    How To Stay Flexible As A Charlotte Mason Educator - With Leah Boden Apr 28, 2023
    Show notes

    Getting vulnerable over here with my current home educating life! Sign up for The Collective and Coaching here: https://www.leahboden.com/


    Wordsworth On Wednesday - The Small Celandine Apr 26, 2023
    Show notes

    Join The Collective here: https://www.leahboden.com/the-collective There is a Flower, the Lesser Celandine, That shrinks, like many more, from cold and rain; And, the first moment that the sun may shine, Bright as the sun itself, 'tis out again! When hailstones have been falling, swarm on swarm,— Or blasts the green field and the trees distress'd, Oft have I seen it muffled up from harm, In close self-shelter, like a Thing at rest. But lately, one rough day, this Flower I pass'd, And recognized it, though an alter'd Form, Now standing forth an offering to the Blast, And buffeted at will by Rain and Storm. ​I stopp'd, and said with inly-muttered voice, "It doth not love the shower, nor seek the cold; This neither is its courage nor its choice, But its necessity in being old. The sunshine may not bless it, nor the dew; It cannot help itself in its decay; Stiff in its members, withered, changed of hue." And, in my spleen, I smiled that it was grey. To be a Prodigal's Favorite—then, worse truth, A Miser's Pensioner—behold our lot! O Man! that from thy fair and shining youth Age might but take the things Youth needed not!


    Wordsworth On Wednesdays - To A Skylark Apr 05, 2023
    Show notes

    To the Skylark BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound? Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground? Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will, Those quivering wings composed, that music still! Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!


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