My favorite season is upon us; cooling temperatures, earlier nights, candles on the dinner table...and fresh pencils, paints, erasers and notebooks! Not to mention good books, beeswax, crayons and yarn. I have stopped questioning the whys of the conditioning that makes some of us school-supply and lesson-plan crazy at this time each year. It just is.
So two weeks into our "school" year, here is what has been happening around our home. We are focusing on North America this month, looking at maps of our area, of the country and the continent, drawing and coloring them and adding information in each child's area of study. The eldest has chosen the Crow Indians to map and study, from a historical perspective, as well as continuing her interest in healing herbs to learn about ones traditionally used by this people. The ten-year old is mapping his favorite poisonous bugs, and looking at the relationship formed between the land they live in, the plants and the people they eat, bite and interact with.
Everyone is doing a bit of math each day, to keep stretch their skills just a little after a summer of mere practice.
We're reading books (picture and longer) on N.America: "Aunt Minnie McGranahan" by Mary Skillings Prigger, "The Boston Tea Party" by Steven Kroll, "Carry on Mr.Bowditch" by Jean Lee Latham and "Indian Captive" by Lois Lenski, to name a few. We are still finishing up Missee Lee, a Swallows and Amazons adventure featuring six sailing children. (And taking advantage of this to work in latitude and longitude and prevailing winds and using a sextant to navigate by.) We will do a brief timeline of US history to keep and fill in as we come across other events later in the year.
We have learned or listened to some great autumn poems and verses, taken nature walks, and reveled in the crisp fall days that have begun.
We have also had days of cuddling up by the fire with knitting and a book on tape to enjoy.
My six-year old daughter and I are reading "The Mary Frances Book of Crocheting and Knitting," as she learns to knit and crochet. She is making a pink scarf for her dolly.
The two eldest received their new penny whistles the other day and have practiced for hours on end ever since.
We have been to visit a friend who fell and is recouping in a nursing home, and another who moved into an independent living home. We attended our library's carnival and plan to take in the Moon Festival there, complete with Vietnamese dancers and Chinese musicians, on Sunday. We have been to the Not-Back-to-School Potluck with our wonderful park day homeschool group. We met with the knitters at church today.
The three older kids have begun their theatre rehearsal again, and are thrilled beyond belief to be back in this group, Charles loves his movie and popcorn time each week while they're gone.
It's a great start to the year.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Lighting a candle
There are many reasons we light candles in our house. All of them go back to my mother who loves candles for their light and beauty and my grandmother who lit them for a reason. For each birthday and each feast day, or times when I was going through something hard, I would get a card from Grama to let me know she had lit a candle for me at mass that morning. Today, as each year on this day, I light a candle in her memory on her birthday. I light it in joy, for the life she lived and the love she brought to the world. I light it also in sorrow, for the very short time she spent on earth.
As a child, to me, my grama was perfect. She was patient, she was soft-spoken, she was gentle and she was beautiful. She was devoted to God and the Catholic church she called home. She went to daily mass at six, read poetry at twilight in the back yard, always had a ready supply of red licorice and diet soda (so as not to rot your teeth), and took me along on her daily bike ride in the summer. She brought to me the love of Robert Frost, nature and Brussel sprouts.
Even today, the standards she set are the ones I aspire to; on good days! Her soft-spoken nature has never been as big a part of my make-up as I would like it to be, her patience still costs me all the strength I have to even begin to emulate. But, walks in nature; in the woods or by the river, are top on our to-do list. I start my day before the family gets up with my own special kind of devotion and praise. Reading poetry is a daily affair in our family, and as for Brussel sprouts; well, I cook them and the kids snub them, but I may yet prevail!
Acceptance and love are the feelings I felt always radiating from my grama. I am pretty sure that she would not necessarily approve of my alternative spiritual ideology today, but she would still approve of me. She would continue to let me know that I really ought to try to be more patient, in an oh-so-quiet way, and she would continue to light a candle for me on each special day.
I light one today for her, Grama Rand.
As a child, to me, my grama was perfect. She was patient, she was soft-spoken, she was gentle and she was beautiful. She was devoted to God and the Catholic church she called home. She went to daily mass at six, read poetry at twilight in the back yard, always had a ready supply of red licorice and diet soda (so as not to rot your teeth), and took me along on her daily bike ride in the summer. She brought to me the love of Robert Frost, nature and Brussel sprouts.
Even today, the standards she set are the ones I aspire to; on good days! Her soft-spoken nature has never been as big a part of my make-up as I would like it to be, her patience still costs me all the strength I have to even begin to emulate. But, walks in nature; in the woods or by the river, are top on our to-do list. I start my day before the family gets up with my own special kind of devotion and praise. Reading poetry is a daily affair in our family, and as for Brussel sprouts; well, I cook them and the kids snub them, but I may yet prevail!
Acceptance and love are the feelings I felt always radiating from my grama. I am pretty sure that she would not necessarily approve of my alternative spiritual ideology today, but she would still approve of me. She would continue to let me know that I really ought to try to be more patient, in an oh-so-quiet way, and she would continue to light a candle for me on each special day.
I light one today for her, Grama Rand.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Rats
Rats, lots of people think, are nasty little beasts that carry sicknesses wherever they go. This is partly true. In the middle ages millions of people died because of rats. However, today rats are considered as one of the smartest and cleanest animals on earth. They also make very good starter pets. They are small, clean, non smelling, do not take up a lot of space, and are not very expensive. I highly recommend them as a pet to a child like me. I got a rat for my ninth birthday. Now I am eleven and have a rat. But it is not my first. Rats only live up to two to three years.
Living with a rat.
It was my ninth birthday. I had gotten a white girl rat that I named Socks Elisabeth Chenus. I kept her in my room and soon found out I was allergic to her. But, by then I loved her too much to get rid of her. So, I sneezed, and rubbed my itchy eyes and I got through the asthma attacks. I taught my rat to come to me, I potty trained her, and we became the best of friends. When my rat died on November 16th, almost two years old I was very sad. Until I got Al.
Caitlin
Caitlin
Friday, August 22, 2008
Knitting: yarn advice 101 needed!
As if it weren't enough to be on the verge of a 20-year high school reunion that for some reason I have decided to attend (having never been to any of the other reunions, I don't see why I chose this particular one to show up at, must be nostalgia due to age or senility, due to same), I have also decided to knit myself a little something to wear for it. The little something being the "Lacy Hug Me Tight" from "Knit Two Together". You can view it here: pretty_ing.blogspot.com/2007/04/fo-lacy-hug-me-tight.html. That took long enough to decide, now for the yarn...
Help! The pattern is a fitted shrug; holey but fitted. The yarn called for is Blue Sky Alpacas Alpaca Silk. So why not use that? 1)I have my doubts about its form-keeping abilities. 2)I need to stick to my self-designated budget, (be good, be good, be good), so I am considering two yarns from Knit Picks for the project: Shine Sport and Andean Treasure.
Andean Treasure would be my first choice, except that it is baby alpaca and it might be itchy, and would hold its shape? And how does it do after washing and wearing in the long run? I made a fantastic pair of socks for my husband out of really nice baby alpaca, but they are so warm they should have a warning on them and they itch me, sensitive me, silly me. This will be the first time I knit something for myself. I have four sweaters to make for my munchkins (because I said I would), so I don't want to mess around with a project that will look shabby six months from now. Anyone knit with this? How did it keep its shape? How would it feel on bare shoulders?
Shine Sport seems like a shoe-in, since it is half cotton, half modal. However, I have read on one review that it sheds "little shards" when knit, that can irritate hands as much as wool. Yikes, this sounds alarming! Personally, I can knit with wool just fine, I just have a problem wearing it. I also read that the Shine wears and washes fairly well, at least in small garments. Any experience with knitting this? And with adult-sized garments?
Last of all, are there other yarns you would recommend for this project? Keeping in mind budget, shape-holding and itchiness, thanks!
Help! The pattern is a fitted shrug; holey but fitted. The yarn called for is Blue Sky Alpacas Alpaca Silk. So why not use that? 1)I have my doubts about its form-keeping abilities. 2)I need to stick to my self-designated budget, (be good, be good, be good), so I am considering two yarns from Knit Picks for the project: Shine Sport and Andean Treasure.
Andean Treasure would be my first choice, except that it is baby alpaca and it might be itchy, and would hold its shape? And how does it do after washing and wearing in the long run? I made a fantastic pair of socks for my husband out of really nice baby alpaca, but they are so warm they should have a warning on them and they itch me, sensitive me, silly me. This will be the first time I knit something for myself. I have four sweaters to make for my munchkins (because I said I would), so I don't want to mess around with a project that will look shabby six months from now. Anyone knit with this? How did it keep its shape? How would it feel on bare shoulders?
Shine Sport seems like a shoe-in, since it is half cotton, half modal. However, I have read on one review that it sheds "little shards" when knit, that can irritate hands as much as wool. Yikes, this sounds alarming! Personally, I can knit with wool just fine, I just have a problem wearing it. I also read that the Shine wears and washes fairly well, at least in small garments. Any experience with knitting this? And with adult-sized garments?
Last of all, are there other yarns you would recommend for this project? Keeping in mind budget, shape-holding and itchiness, thanks!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Clean laundry
Aaaah, were it only enough for it to be clean. Clean I can handle; sorted, washed, dryed, even on the line. Folded even, is not too bad, since it is either a quick load in front of the machine (me) or folded for me in front of the tv at night (dh). But getting it all back to where it needs to go...even the fly lady can't help us here.
It doesn't help that the children keep switching rooms. They do it when we are not looking, they do it at nap time, they do it when I am typing, folding wash, giving birth; any time my attention is occupied elsewhere. We have discouraged, forbidden, ranted, about this habit, but they will do it. I wouldn't mind if they just slept in another room and left everything, but each time it is a whole new interior decorating project. I find closets half-way refurbished, clothes in transit, clothes under beds, in the hallway. It can take days to get everything all sorted out again.
Cate is 11 now, going on 12, and very organized, very neat, has a very hard time not micro-managing the rest of us. Duncan and Valentine have my creative tendencies, things need to find their place, rather than being dictated a spot. Charles still does what he is led to do, Gael is barely walking, so he is basically an ambulatory mess machine. Between the five of them and their socks, life if crazy.
We have taken measures over the years to simplify the whole process. Beds are European-easy; everyone gets one fitted sheet and a comforter covered with a duvet cover made of soft cotton, both are washed each week. This greatly reduces bed-making time and untidiness. All they have to do is vaguely toss the comforter in the right direction and straighten out the corners a little.
They all know how to fold wash, and I plan to take this one step further when I buy baskets for each bedroom. Too bad for separating darks and whites. I am going to throw each room's basket in the machine and then back in the room to be folded (at least by everyone over 8).
How about you? What ingenious laundry solutions have you found for your household? Please do share and get me out from under this pile of wash!
It doesn't help that the children keep switching rooms. They do it when we are not looking, they do it at nap time, they do it when I am typing, folding wash, giving birth; any time my attention is occupied elsewhere. We have discouraged, forbidden, ranted, about this habit, but they will do it. I wouldn't mind if they just slept in another room and left everything, but each time it is a whole new interior decorating project. I find closets half-way refurbished, clothes in transit, clothes under beds, in the hallway. It can take days to get everything all sorted out again.
Cate is 11 now, going on 12, and very organized, very neat, has a very hard time not micro-managing the rest of us. Duncan and Valentine have my creative tendencies, things need to find their place, rather than being dictated a spot. Charles still does what he is led to do, Gael is barely walking, so he is basically an ambulatory mess machine. Between the five of them and their socks, life if crazy.
We have taken measures over the years to simplify the whole process. Beds are European-easy; everyone gets one fitted sheet and a comforter covered with a duvet cover made of soft cotton, both are washed each week. This greatly reduces bed-making time and untidiness. All they have to do is vaguely toss the comforter in the right direction and straighten out the corners a little.
They all know how to fold wash, and I plan to take this one step further when I buy baskets for each bedroom. Too bad for separating darks and whites. I am going to throw each room's basket in the machine and then back in the room to be folded (at least by everyone over 8).
How about you? What ingenious laundry solutions have you found for your household? Please do share and get me out from under this pile of wash!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Living with a cockatiel
During the short period of time that I had my bird, we were very good friends. I got him for my eleventh birthday after saving enough money to buy the cage, food, and toys witch cost $200. The bird itself was $150. My parents paid for that. I named him : Alestor Socks Harry James Potter Albus Madeye. I got him after my ninth birthday present, a much loved, and very old girl rat named socks died a few months before. We called him Al because his real name was to long to use all the time. His cage was over four feet tall and very hard to clean for an eleven year old. A bird is very hard to potty train, and I'm sorry to say that his life was over before he got the hang of it. Most cockatiels live up to about fifteen years, but they can live up to twenty five. My cockatiel however was a whiteface and they are generally more susceptible to birth defects. Mine had a hart problem. I was able to command my bird to step up on my finger when I said step up. He would sit on my shoulder and lean his head down to rub it against my neck. Me and my bird had a wonderful time together. But, on February 13 2008 he died. The vet did a free autopsy, and we found out that he was born with an over large hart. It was a happy adventure with a sad ending. At the time I did not know that it would lead me to another great adventure: mammito.
Caitlin, Tuesday, March 25th
Caitlin, Tuesday, March 25th
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Fasting, motherhood and the world
I have decided I prefer the term "fasting" to describe the experience of subsisting on water and lemon juice. It evokes the great spiritual traditions of Native Americans who journeyed into a land of holy trances and visions deep in the woods as well as Gandhi, objecting to the world's injustices. The mystical Orient with its melange of great luxury and austere deprivation holds great appeal for us in the highly antiseptic, neon-lit, edged-lawn-owner West. I am well aware that 24 hours of food abstinence does not begin to qualify as a spiritual experience, I don't even feel light-headed yet, but my perception has changed subtly overnight.
At 24 hours; the carpet felt softer under my feet walking down the steps. The morning air felt cooler and was a welcome vision of green and gold through the trees. I felt lighter, less distracted by the superficial, the unnecessary.
What am I hoping to gain? Certainly not saintly visions or voices-they would cart me off in a hurry. I am hoping for a purity of perception, to reconnect with what is vital. To let the ensnaring strings of modern life float away and find the root of necessity once again. To renew my faith in the beautiful, the light. I want the things that keep me from being kind and composed to fall away forever. I want my children to find a mother who is serene, tranquil and happy, yet efficient, energetic and ready to listen, play or meet whatever the occasion calls for.
Darn, I am afraid it would take more than four days of fasting for all this! But let us keep the faith and give an update tomorrow.
At 24 hours; the carpet felt softer under my feet walking down the steps. The morning air felt cooler and was a welcome vision of green and gold through the trees. I felt lighter, less distracted by the superficial, the unnecessary.
What am I hoping to gain? Certainly not saintly visions or voices-they would cart me off in a hurry. I am hoping for a purity of perception, to reconnect with what is vital. To let the ensnaring strings of modern life float away and find the root of necessity once again. To renew my faith in the beautiful, the light. I want the things that keep me from being kind and composed to fall away forever. I want my children to find a mother who is serene, tranquil and happy, yet efficient, energetic and ready to listen, play or meet whatever the occasion calls for.
Darn, I am afraid it would take more than four days of fasting for all this! But let us keep the faith and give an update tomorrow.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Cleanse
It's time to cleanse, a practice my chiropractor insists upon once of year or so, when I am not pregnant or nursing a newborn, which really limits the time frame for someone in my advanced condition of motherhood! Five babies in ten years and two babies that weren't, poor little angels...that has not given me a wide window for cleansing. Add to that the fact that in the past I have been a whiner and felt miserable (like everyone else) when on a cleanse, and it all adds up to something I have not often indulged in.
So here we go. I am posting to oblige myself to some measure of accountability. If all million regular readers of my blog ask me how my cleanse is going, I will be more likely to stick to it during day two and three when I am longing for a doughnut, a slice of leftover foie gras, or just a bowl of dry Cheerios.
Why cleanse? My chiropractor takes one look at my eczema that is driving me mad and pronounces "yeast." She always says "yeast" to me. What reassures me is that she always says "dehydrated" to one of my friends, so at least this is not a "one-size-fits-all" solution. Then comes the dreaded word: "cleanse." And she walks out of the room.
Now, dear reader, if you are also a mother of five or four, three, two , one, or even just living with a room mate who loves to eat, you will understand the particular pressure and temptation of preparing meals three times a day and snacks in-between while conscientiously drinking your lemon-juice or water or whatever you have chosen as a weapon. We really like to eat in our family. It is more than a hobby, it is an obsession. We spend hours dreaming up menus, looking up recipes and cooking. Last night was our 15 year wedding anniversary. We created a feast, a lovely feast, with foie gras from France, a salmon terrine from fresh salmon, fresh cream, a mushroom/egg/cream tartelette, and a green salad tossed with balsamic wine vinegrette and garlic croutons made from homemade bread, all in delicate portions, served beautifully (by my husband), and accompanied by a light rose wine. Dessert was a new cream cheese brownie recipe from Joy of Baking.com, that I have perfected my making it three times in the last week, a true delight to behold, even better to taste. Despite this, it is fairly easy to be disciplined in this respect, once I have made up my mind to do it.
What is harder is the lack of energy and lethargy that kicks in on days two and three. I have not attempted this for years, so my body has forgotten how awful I will feel tomorrow...I will give you an update then. For now, I am a happy day one, hour one cleanser, drinking my happy water.
I'll check in tomorrow.
So here we go. I am posting to oblige myself to some measure of accountability. If all million regular readers of my blog ask me how my cleanse is going, I will be more likely to stick to it during day two and three when I am longing for a doughnut, a slice of leftover foie gras, or just a bowl of dry Cheerios.
Why cleanse? My chiropractor takes one look at my eczema that is driving me mad and pronounces "yeast." She always says "yeast" to me. What reassures me is that she always says "dehydrated" to one of my friends, so at least this is not a "one-size-fits-all" solution. Then comes the dreaded word: "cleanse." And she walks out of the room.
Now, dear reader, if you are also a mother of five or four, three, two , one, or even just living with a room mate who loves to eat, you will understand the particular pressure and temptation of preparing meals three times a day and snacks in-between while conscientiously drinking your lemon-juice or water or whatever you have chosen as a weapon. We really like to eat in our family. It is more than a hobby, it is an obsession. We spend hours dreaming up menus, looking up recipes and cooking. Last night was our 15 year wedding anniversary. We created a feast, a lovely feast, with foie gras from France, a salmon terrine from fresh salmon, fresh cream, a mushroom/egg/cream tartelette, and a green salad tossed with balsamic wine vinegrette and garlic croutons made from homemade bread, all in delicate portions, served beautifully (by my husband), and accompanied by a light rose wine. Dessert was a new cream cheese brownie recipe from Joy of Baking.com, that I have perfected my making it three times in the last week, a true delight to behold, even better to taste. Despite this, it is fairly easy to be disciplined in this respect, once I have made up my mind to do it.
What is harder is the lack of energy and lethargy that kicks in on days two and three. I have not attempted this for years, so my body has forgotten how awful I will feel tomorrow...I will give you an update then. For now, I am a happy day one, hour one cleanser, drinking my happy water.
I'll check in tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Learning all life long
Learning is not something that begins and ends in school, quite the contrary. Here is a little list of my favorite lessons from the past year or so.
It will always be more tempting to go back to sleep than to get up at five am. On the other hand, I will never regret getting up, once I am out of bed. (One foot at a time, one eye at a time.)
Life is enriched and made more beautiful by starting the day with a simple "thank you."
Babies, planned or not, will always be a source of love, joy, lovely smells, cuddles, sweet nights and days of giggles, spills and sticky kisses. There's nothing like a baby in your life to warm it up and reveal the beauty of life again. And there is nothing like a child to reveal all of the wonder you may have forgotten is in the world, or to ask you probing questions that awaken your curiosity again.
This does not mean that everyone should go out and have their own baby today. You may want to just go sniff someone else's for a minute. One must be reasonable and know when to say enough babies. (And that, I'm afraid, is a lesson I will never learn!)
Meditation, taking time to be, to remember that we are human beings and not human doings, has also made an intense difference in my quality of life. This time of quiet, not of reflection, but of inner stillness, requires more discipline from me than an intense housecleaning session or a run in the heat (probably my two least favorites.) Meditation, for us utilitarians, does not give one a sense of having accomplished anything measurable by society's standards; no work was done, no calories burned, no stitches knit in that time. The worth is there nonetheless, patient, biding its time as a bulb in the winter, growing stronger with tending and watering.
It will always be more tempting to go back to sleep than to get up at five am. On the other hand, I will never regret getting up, once I am out of bed. (One foot at a time, one eye at a time.)
Life is enriched and made more beautiful by starting the day with a simple "thank you."
Babies, planned or not, will always be a source of love, joy, lovely smells, cuddles, sweet nights and days of giggles, spills and sticky kisses. There's nothing like a baby in your life to warm it up and reveal the beauty of life again. And there is nothing like a child to reveal all of the wonder you may have forgotten is in the world, or to ask you probing questions that awaken your curiosity again.
This does not mean that everyone should go out and have their own baby today. You may want to just go sniff someone else's for a minute. One must be reasonable and know when to say enough babies. (And that, I'm afraid, is a lesson I will never learn!)
Meditation, taking time to be, to remember that we are human beings and not human doings, has also made an intense difference in my quality of life. This time of quiet, not of reflection, but of inner stillness, requires more discipline from me than an intense housecleaning session or a run in the heat (probably my two least favorites.) Meditation, for us utilitarians, does not give one a sense of having accomplished anything measurable by society's standards; no work was done, no calories burned, no stitches knit in that time. The worth is there nonetheless, patient, biding its time as a bulb in the winter, growing stronger with tending and watering.
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Tribute to Tasha Tudor, who passed away June 18, 2008 at the age of 92.
No one asks anymore, but if they did, I would say that when I grow up I want to be Tasha Tudor. This great lady passed away yesterday, but leaves in her stead such a legacy that she will be remembered for moons upon moons to come.
Each one who loved Tasha Tudor will have their own memories of her. It may be that what you remember about Tasha are her fabulous, magical gardens, beautiful beyond compare. It could be her lovely books, with their flowered and ribboned borders and irresistible characters are your favorite. It might be the way she lived and dressed, farming as though it were still the 1830's; knitting by firelight, spinning, weaving and stitching her own period clothing. Or yet again the wondrous toys she created and played with; her puppets, animals and doll houses.
Her elegance of spirit and simplicity of life are an inspiration to many. Her unwavering belief in her vision allowed her to live passionately and fully. Her disregard for what the world said or did meant her focus stayed true. Her farmhouse, carefully reconstructed and allowed to age gracefully, was a reflection of the path of her life.
She accomplished more in a year than some of us do in a lifetime. This, I think, is what leaves us the most perplexed; how did she do all of the things she did? As a mother of small children, I marvel at how she simultaneously farmed, wrote and illustrated books, tended her beautiful garden, raised her four children and created elaborate doll worlds and many celebrations for them.
Her secret, I believe, comes back to her passion for all she did. She loved what she did and worked in joy and love. Allowing yourself to work on the things you love, along with diligence and patience, will yield better results than any forceful running about to fulfill someone else's "to do" list.
I light a candle to the memory of Tasha today and pledge to live this day to my fullest. Today I will remain true to my love of peace and beauty, of creating a good home for my family. I will pursue my passions, nurture those of my children and enjoy each sip of my tea.
No one asks anymore, but if they did, I would say that when I grow up I want to be Tasha Tudor. This great lady passed away yesterday, but leaves in her stead such a legacy that she will be remembered for moons upon moons to come.
Each one who loved Tasha Tudor will have their own memories of her. It may be that what you remember about Tasha are her fabulous, magical gardens, beautiful beyond compare. It could be her lovely books, with their flowered and ribboned borders and irresistible characters are your favorite. It might be the way she lived and dressed, farming as though it were still the 1830's; knitting by firelight, spinning, weaving and stitching her own period clothing. Or yet again the wondrous toys she created and played with; her puppets, animals and doll houses.
Her elegance of spirit and simplicity of life are an inspiration to many. Her unwavering belief in her vision allowed her to live passionately and fully. Her disregard for what the world said or did meant her focus stayed true. Her farmhouse, carefully reconstructed and allowed to age gracefully, was a reflection of the path of her life.
She accomplished more in a year than some of us do in a lifetime. This, I think, is what leaves us the most perplexed; how did she do all of the things she did? As a mother of small children, I marvel at how she simultaneously farmed, wrote and illustrated books, tended her beautiful garden, raised her four children and created elaborate doll worlds and many celebrations for them.
Her secret, I believe, comes back to her passion for all she did. She loved what she did and worked in joy and love. Allowing yourself to work on the things you love, along with diligence and patience, will yield better results than any forceful running about to fulfill someone else's "to do" list.
I light a candle to the memory of Tasha today and pledge to live this day to my fullest. Today I will remain true to my love of peace and beauty, of creating a good home for my family. I will pursue my passions, nurture those of my children and enjoy each sip of my tea.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Cockatiels
Cockatiels are the second most popular pet birds in the world. They are very beautiful too. They can often be taught to talk and whistle tunes. When you buy a cockatiel, make sure its eyes are clear and bright, its feathers are smooth, shiny, dry, clean, and lay flat on its body. Its beak should be smooth and well shaped, its nostrils clear and clean. Twenty inches by twenty inches is the bare minimum for a cage. Seeds, pellets, and fresh fruits and vegetables are a good diet. Hard boiled eggs can be fed sometimes. Cockatiels are less noisy than other birds and are good with small children. Bird names that I have thought of were: Jasper, Harry Potter, Ron Weasly, Ginny, Luna Lovegood, Madeye, and Voldemort. Poisons for birds: bleach, ammonia, oven cleaner, glue, nail polish remover, paint, perfume, heavy metal, lead, and zinc. Sugar, salt, fatty foods, and chocolate is very bad for birds. Electric cords, ceiling fans, windows, doors, and mirrors are also deadly to birds.
Caitlin, Tuesday, March 25th.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
The first moment
"That sounds very waldorfy honey..." - I wondered if she was serious, then I realized the tone of her voice. I think the kids will enjoy posting about their homeschool journey, about history, history of China, Greece; about their pet rats maybe, or about math.
Hmph, talk about being coerced into a writing project! I guess it's my turn. I am Mama, of these five marvelous beings, wife to the funny guy making statements I need to refute lest I be labeled "anti-family project" and blogging is not quite my thing. Computers are not my thing, technology is not my thing. My dream would be to be Tasha Tudor, living her life, pretending it was still 1830. A farm somewhere, wonderfully isolated, milking my own goats and cows, growing flowers and vegetables, canning my own produce. Knitting by the fireside, baking and cooking, reading for days on end, writing to "keep the wolf from the door", that would be the life.
However, in the name of family unity, I am willing to attempt blogging; even though the very sound of the word is offensive!
Our family journey is largely of the learning and living together type. We speak both French and English, having our roots both in France and in Iowa. We already live, in great part, our ideal lives. We read a lot, especially in front of the fire in unpleasant weather. We take frequent walks in nature, sail the Mississippi (don't laugh, it's quite large where we live!) We're building a canoe in the garage, and we enjoy gardening, cooking and baking together. In the past year we have come to include a new level of structure to our day, this in order to accommodate life with a new family member. Our darling baby number five arrived in May of '07, and I felt that something needed to change or chaos would take over the household.
In our great voyage into the unknown waters of more structured learning, we found that the world of Waldorf met ours halfway. It has opened doors to a harmonious way to begin the day on a positive note. We come together to light a candle, share our joys, sorrows and a poem or two. Waldorf has validated my love of knitting and baking, making them suddenly bona fide avenues of learning. It has introduced many festivals throughout the year, and more festivals mean more fun, as well as more reasons to read up on other cultures and civilizations. It has also meant the discovery of fascinating math projects that we have incorporated with joy, instead of the dread that used to accompany "math time" at home. My meditation and yoga practices come under the category of "inner work". I tend to make more time for them, since their immediate impact on my family and our learning together are clearer.
Thierry, Angela
Hmph, talk about being coerced into a writing project! I guess it's my turn. I am Mama, of these five marvelous beings, wife to the funny guy making statements I need to refute lest I be labeled "anti-family project" and blogging is not quite my thing. Computers are not my thing, technology is not my thing. My dream would be to be Tasha Tudor, living her life, pretending it was still 1830. A farm somewhere, wonderfully isolated, milking my own goats and cows, growing flowers and vegetables, canning my own produce. Knitting by the fireside, baking and cooking, reading for days on end, writing to "keep the wolf from the door", that would be the life.
However, in the name of family unity, I am willing to attempt blogging; even though the very sound of the word is offensive!
Our family journey is largely of the learning and living together type. We speak both French and English, having our roots both in France and in Iowa. We already live, in great part, our ideal lives. We read a lot, especially in front of the fire in unpleasant weather. We take frequent walks in nature, sail the Mississippi (don't laugh, it's quite large where we live!) We're building a canoe in the garage, and we enjoy gardening, cooking and baking together. In the past year we have come to include a new level of structure to our day, this in order to accommodate life with a new family member. Our darling baby number five arrived in May of '07, and I felt that something needed to change or chaos would take over the household.
In our great voyage into the unknown waters of more structured learning, we found that the world of Waldorf met ours halfway. It has opened doors to a harmonious way to begin the day on a positive note. We come together to light a candle, share our joys, sorrows and a poem or two. Waldorf has validated my love of knitting and baking, making them suddenly bona fide avenues of learning. It has introduced many festivals throughout the year, and more festivals mean more fun, as well as more reasons to read up on other cultures and civilizations. It has also meant the discovery of fascinating math projects that we have incorporated with joy, instead of the dread that used to accompany "math time" at home. My meditation and yoga practices come under the category of "inner work". I tend to make more time for them, since their immediate impact on my family and our learning together are clearer.
Thierry, Angela
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