maristar

Why I Blog...

2010-05-23T13:48:00.006-07:00

Because I wish my mum had written down the inner workings of her heart...
Because my mum DID keep a journal but journals aren't the same -- they're where we empty our angst and that's hard for a daughter to read!!
Because I suck at keeping journals for my kids...
Because writing about stuff keeps me real and is a genuine need deep in my soul...
And because if I had 37 days, I wouldn't have time to write down all the things I'd want my kids to know...
When I took that long break in Autumn, I wasn't sure if I'd come back to writing my blog... I really wanted to spend more time being present in the moment and less time thinking about it... but this bit from Patty Digh has always stayed in my mind, and it's what keeps bringing me back here:

What emerged was a renewed commitment to ask myself this question every morning: 'what would I be doing today if I only had 37 days to live?' It's a hard question some days. But here's how I answered it: Write like hell, leave as much of myself behind for my two daughters as I could, let them know me and see me as a real person, not just a mother, leave with them for safe-keeping my thoughts and memories, fears and dreams, the histories of what I am and who my people are. Leave behind my thoughts about living the life, that "one wild and precious life" that poet Mary Oliver speaks of. That's what I'd do with my 37 days." - Patty Digh

And with that, I encourage you to start your own blog (if you haven't already) and "write like hell"!!! love that!! Keep it real. Let us see you as a real person, the depths of your heart! The world needs more of that. Which reminds me of one of my favourite quotes ever (thanks Sal):

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” - Howard Thurman

On My Mind...

2010-05-23T12:47:00.004-07:00

Our general family policy is that when we're sick, we do our best to stay away from other people. Not that we've never shared germs, unfortunately, but we really do try to contain them. I believe there's enough misery, sickness, stress, difficulty in the world without us consciously spreading more. I think there are too many mothers (myself included all too often) who can only just manage what's on her plate -- adding something so simple as a cold, which translates to even less sleep, to the mix due to a child not being able to breathe through her nose adds stress that she doesn't need. How often I've experienced feeling like I'm managing quite well when someone gets sick and our level of peace/joy/serenity decreases in the household. I think eventually colds and flus and such will not seem like such a big deal (hoping?! ha!) but I also think that people with olders forget what it's like to have littles -- the lack of sleep, the constant giving every ounce of ourselves, that feeling that an illness could just be the last straw... And to be clear! I do not believe sickness is inherently a bad thing: to the contrary! I believe sickness can often be a gift to force us to slow down in a too-busy week, land us in bed together reading instead of running to yet another thing. I believe minor sicknesses in children primes their immune system and helps ensure health later in life. But I also believe that there are enough germs in the world that we will all get our share of minor colds and flus without consciously sharing ours with our friends and family. The most contagious time in an illness is that day or two before the symptoms manifest, when we're just not quite feeling ourselves, but often haven't given in to the need to rest. We all have to BE in the world, and so the germs from those contagious times are everywhere. And that's the argument of many people in my life -- if you're going to get sick, you're going to get sick, so why should I change my plans just to prevent you from getting MY germs???
Okay, but then why is it that we can usually trace an illness we get to a friend or relative who was symptomatic the last we saw them? Is it because our minds are conscious of the sickness and thus manifest the illness? I don't think so. I really don't. Biology degree talking now: my child sits in a grocery cart that no doubt has had a child or 5 in it that day with sniffles. But the cart has been sitting out, germs getting cold, dying by the thousands before my kid gets in and licks the handle. Viral load is pretty low, but still my child can (and does, occasionally) get sick if her immune system is focusing on something else or she was just run down that day we went out. Drastic difference from being in the same room with someone, sneezing, coughing, generating thousands of germs everytime they breathe. Viral load is VERY high, fresh, and persistent. It's like being in a grocery cart SURROUNDED with a fresh germ machine attached right to the handle.
I want to model respect and consideration to my children. It's way high on my list of who I want my children to be as adults. And not just for other mothers and other children... definitely not just my child or managing what I can handle that I'm thinking of. I'm thinking of the grandmothers and grandfathers who are battling cancer and undergoing chemotherapy and really really NEED TO NOT get sick. I take my snotty child to the grocery store, their grandchild gets in next, and now that grandparent can't see their own grandchild. All because I didn't stay home when my child was sick. I'm thinking of people recovering from heart surgery, same deal. I'm thinking of the parents we know who have multiple sclerosis and other immune-suppressing diseases, where a sickness is a real blow, not just an inconvenience, and does NOT ever feel like a gift.
And so...
We try our best not to go out, not to spread the germs we KNOW we have.
It feels like modeling this to my children is helping model respect and consideration. Am I successful at my goal 100% of the time? Nope. Sometimes, like just this last round, miss Heidi got a bad cold that lasted 3 weeks. The first week, we stayed away from everyone, thinking we were all going to get it. But none of us did. We assumed it was a cold that only small children get (must be a very common one) and did attend a few of our activities, but stayed away from gener l public or anyone who had small children. Perfect? nope. Doing our best? yep.
And SO!
Recently it's become apparent that I need to find a way to voice this family policy in a way that inspires others to show some consideration to my family in the same way. Do we have any immune-suppressing diseases? No. But in the words of my wise daughter, "should we have to be the only ones who cancel all our activities for a couple of weeks just because they {sick people} don't want to cancel theirs?"
Here's why this has come to a head...
Recently a mother knowingly sent her child to my house with headlice. Yep.
Whose head she combed out 3 dead lice (killed by the chemical treatment she'd just applied) that very morning. That wasn't the worst part, because she actually told me about it so I could at least manage the fall-out. That said, told me AFTER my children had already been exposed... The worst part was that our kids had played together 5 days earlier and she hadn't told me anything about it. Timeline: She discovered the headlice on Tuesday, our kids played together on Sunday (with nothing said of lice), we arranged that day for a playdate on following Friday, picked child up and was told then. When pressed, as to why she wouldn't have given me the option of exposing ourselves, she said she felt she was managing the risk for me. She was "treating" the child, so felt that was enough. (Biology: no way to tell when knits are going to hatch, no way to tell when lice are present as they are rarely seen alive, absolutely no way to manage risk of passing along the little buggers (!) until all knits are absent from said head, which usually takes 3 aggressive weeks of treatment) She felt no need to give me a heads-up, so to speak. Interesting enough, this same mother was absolutely FURIOUS that her school hadn't told her that lice was going around the school, even though it wasn't actually in her child's classroom (yet). When I voiced concern about wanting to manage my own risks for my children, she said she thought lice was something everyone had to go through anyway...
This is the same person who sent her boy with a bad cold out with us trick or treating the year we were leaving for Maui 3 days later. We didn't know he was sick and shared our water with him as he was very thirsty (and only 2 years old at the time!) And sure enough, Pedar ended up with a bad cold, a terrible ear infection (which always accompanied colds for wee P in those days) and had to stay in the condo for the first 3 days of our holiday. Since then, we've been "gifted" with probably 90% of our illnesses from said family.

"When people show you who they are, believe them," says Maya Angelou.

But when it's family, and you believe that cousins playing together is a beautiful thing, what to do? Do you think it's offensive to start each conversation about spending time together with "Do your kids have colds? Do they have flus? Do they have lice? Do they have anything contagious that I haven't asked about?" Because of swine flu swirling around our community this past Autumn, I did leave a voicemail to that effect on Halloween day. We have a tradition of meeting after trick-or-treating at grandparents house to watch the fireworks together (they can see 3 sets, Lavington, BX and Coldstream from their huge living room windows). I got a call back saying "that was a pretty ridiculous message that you left. I don't take my kids out when they're sick!!!" Um. Actually you do. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.
So how do you move, touch or inspire someone to act differently when they don't see how they really are?
And what is your family policy when it comes to sickness?

jimmy cliff

2010-05-07T15:29:00.002-07:00

I can see clearly now the rain is gone...

2010-05-07T10:43:00.013-07:00

Hi mum. Hi dad.
It's been awhile.
Ten years.
Ten long years.
You haven't called. You haven't written. You haven't stopped by. Would love for you to just show up at my door one day. ding dong... and there'd you'd be. Big smiles, tears in your eyes, "We haven't got long," you'd say "but we just wanted to stop by and give you a hug." And I'd fly into your arms and sob.
So, where are you, anyway? My kids keep asking. I used to think I knew for sure, but I don't know anything for sure anymore. Are you with us always? resting with your FatherGod? Reborn? Are you waiting somewhere?
I wish I knew. It would be great comfort to know for sure.
I know you didn't just disappear, because there were those 5 white doves on the lawn that night... and there were those two times I woke up and saw you there watching me...

I'm doing good. Everything's changed since you left, though. Everything.
I chose Brent after you left. For real. To be my everything, just like you said. I learned what real love is, and also what it isn't. I thought I knew all those years. But to be honest, 10 years ago I had no idea. I've learned just how precious little I truly knew. and still know. about anything. But you knew that. You tried to tell me, but I couldn't hear it then. But really, thank you for all the things you tried to teach me. So many things you said have come to me in powerful ways over the last 10 years and grabbed on in my soul, somehow. I'm so grateful for everything you were, everything you shared, everything... Everything. I wish I knew then so I could've told you, shown you, but ... well, I'm telling you now.
I've learned how powerful fear is. 10 years ago I don't think I'd ever been truly afraid. That night I fell to the ground when I heard you'd gone... My first thought was that I would die too, that I couldn't possibly go on without you... Fear nearly swallowed me whole that night... But somehow those last words from my big brother "Tyler and Silka are gone too..." saved me. I learned that night the power of perspective -- it felt like I'd lost everything, but those last words put it all into perspective for me, and I knew that if he could go on with what he'd lost, I could surely find some strength too... and I did. But that dark fear definitely seeded in my soul that night and it feels like I'm only just now climbing out past the tipping point away from the side of always choosing fear first, closer closer to the side of love. Over the years every time I was challenged, my baby had a convulsion or had crooked legs or I had unexplained pains, I'd choose fear first. Fear would nearly swallow me all over again, just like that night so long ago... But somehow love would wiggle its way in, just like those white doves on the lawn that night, and the fear would disappear, and joy would return.
I do think fear is lessening its hold on me as time goes on.
It's all about balance, isn't it? I didn't know about balance then. I thought I just knew things. Now I know I didn't. and don't. Surely I've learned how precious and tenuous life is. And happiness too. I've learned how completely fear wrecks all of that and how completely gratitude fixes it. Each time I'd reach for fear, in that same instant I'd lose all of my joy. I could see myself doing it... but slowly slowly slowly I'm learning to take a deep breath, ground myself, and choose love instead. Slowly but surely. If nothing else I've learned how entwined love and fear are and how completely devoid of joy the side of fear is.
I'm learning what brings me joy, what fills my cup, what grounds me, what keeps me on the side of love. I'm learning how powerful connection is for me and how lonely disconnection is. I don't know much about that yet, but enough to know that I want and need to stay connected with myself, and Brent, and the children if I want to hold onto my authenticity. And I've learned the power of authenticity and that it's the only way I want to live. Looking good, being right, being admired... it all pales to the power of being authentic, being my word, keeping enough of my energy to nurture us first, being grounded in my own power... I'm learning.
It feels like I've lived my whole life in the ten years since I last heard your voices, since I last hugged and was hugged by you, since I last felt your hand around mine... The girl who travelled the world, sipped tea with the orangutans in Singapore, dove for conch shells and rode elephants in Malaysia, rode the trains and bartered for yards of silk in Thailand, hiked the Himilayas and rode camels in the Cholistan, studied giraffes in Africa, strode around buying cheese in Amsterdam, discovered her strength in Florida, fished the rivers in Alaska and all that... feels like someone else. I see photos of her, with you two usually close by, big grins on all your faces, and I think she still lives that life somewhere, with the both of you. I wonder what adventures you're all having now? Yes, that wild-hearted girl is forever young, forever daughter to the most amazing parents there ever was...
Meanwhile I am 41 years old!! The child of yours seems completely separate from this 40 something me that has emerged... The me that embraces my role as wife to an amazing man who adores me, is grateful for me, admires me for the me I truly am... while the me that is juggles three incredible children, learning, laughing, loving, living, growing up together... while I plant my garden and decorate my soul and build my soil, searching for ways to make more more more compost and cutting flowers to bring sunshine inside our hearts and home... while I struggle with finding time to keep my body healthy and moving and strong... while I search for ways to hang onto the woman that I am, nurturing her along with the mother and wife and friend that I'm more familiar with...
I don't know. Would you know me now? Would you still see the girl from then in the me that is now? I wonder...
Well, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I hope you know that I love you, that you are a big part of our lives, that my children know you and adore you and miss you too...
And hey, if you're ever in these parts, do drop by! We'd love to see you.
xoxoxo, your d.d.

Little Miss

2010-04-10T13:21:00.009-07:00

The little one and I have been having our issues with sleep lately. She's getting her i-teeth, all 4 at once, and some nights she's awake more than she's asleep, more "on" the breast than not if she has her way... Last weekend I decided at 1 AM that I couldn't take it anymore and she wasn't going to be nursing all night long anymore. So I explained my new idea to her, she seemed to understand and back down we lay. Uh huh. She played and fussed and crawled all over me and patted my cheeks and gave me a face anatomy lesson ("eye", "nose", "mouth", etc.) until 6. Not what I had in mind... She doesn't want water at night, like my other 2 did, and so what to do? Something had to change.
That constant struggle, along with mr. P having recently decided that he doesn't need daddy sleeping in his room (something about the snoring keeping him awake and too many bad smells!?!?!) anymore gave us an idea...
How about move the single bed daddy's been sleeping on into mummy's room, make Heidi her OWN BED, and move daddy back into mummy's bed (hallelujah! i think? um, the bad smells???)??
And so the frenzy began, Heidi being kept occupied elsewhere (in order to keep the secret) whilst mummy prepared the surprise...
Heidi was duly impressed. It helped that her brother and sister were cheering their heads off...

Keen to climb right in and have her nap -- excellent progress! She slept soundly and we had SUCH HIGH HOPES for night time!

And so of course we CELEBRATED big time.

Chocolate cake (recipe below -- best ever, truly!) ice-cream, raspberries, candles, songs (happy new bed to you for little miss and happy growing up to you for mr. P) and off to bed for a very sound, healing, deep sleep for allllllll. right? well.....

Alas... it was not a success. She didn't want to be in her own bed. That was fine. But she didn't want to be in my bed either. Not so fine. I spent most of the night sleeping on the crack between our mattresses with her on top of me, her little arms wrapped tightly around my neck! Sweet, I know! but seriously not so sweet around 4 AM with very little sleep in the last weeks... To be fair, she did sleep soundly a few hours until daddy came home from hockey and started snoring so loudly she sat bolt upright in bed and said "mammee? wazat?" And that was it. She was awake more than she was asleep the rest of the night.

So, now what? Patience, I suppose. Patience, albeit, is in much higher supply with a good nights' rest under one's belt!! Perhaps I'll check myself into the lodge at Predator and leave the night's worries to daddy... ? or ???

and yes, the recipe:

Deep, dark, moist, luscious non-dairy Chocolate Cake

1+3/4 cups unsifted all-purpose flour

2 cups sugar

3/4 cup cocoa

1+1/2 tsp baking soda

1+1/2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

Mix together

Add

2 eggs

1 cup milk (I use almond milk)

1/2 cup veg oil (I use grapeseed or olive oil)

2 tsp vanilla

Beat with mixer on medium speed for 2 minutes.

Stir (with spoon) in 1 cup of boiling water (don't forget this step -- it's still good without but not nearly as good! oh! and don't turn on the wrong burner when you have your food processor on the stovetop and melt that, will you? it doesn't smell nice and makes you awful mad!)

Pour into 2 greased 9" pans or one 13 x 9" pan. Bake at 350'F for 30 to 35 minutes for layers, 35 to 40 minutes for slab, or until toothpick inserted in middle comes out clean.

Cool 10 minutes and then remove from pans.

Non-Dairy Creamy Frosting:
6 Tbsp softened coconut oil or Earth balance spread

2+2/3 cup icing sugar

1/2 cup cocoa

1/3 cup almond milk

1 tsp vanilla

Big Brown Dog turns 13

2010-04-09T19:49:00.003-07:00

Kenai's 13th birthday -- cupcakes and sushi at the beach.

Kal beach = no dogs allowed

but we take Kenai there every year for her big day... It was fun despite Kenai pooping and Heidi falling off the bench and cupcakes falling into the sand and Heidi pooping (into the same bag used to pick up Kenai's poo) and Heidi following Kenai into the water and getting soaked up to her waist... SUCH FUN! he he he Who ever said this mothering gig would be easy?!?! I hope the kids remember the cupcakes part, the laughing at the poop part and not the "why wasn't anyone watching Heidi" yelling part...

Mushroom-fiend

2010-03-31T22:02:00.002-07:00

Trying to get supper on the table tonight, some little miss was HUNGRY! The mushrooms and the stewed tomatoes were on, I'd gone back to get the quinoa, and this is what I came back to. She'd eaten half the mushrooms right out of the pan! Good thing she's such a cute little monkey!

Spring!

2010-03-23T10:05:00.006-07:00

Hello! I'm back. I've missed blogging, but I'm grateful for the time away, too. I hope to post on a regular basis starting now! I just had my birthday, and it's SPRING! perfect time for making fresh starts...

What I've Been Up To...

2009-09-04T16:54:00.015-07:00

Loving my morning glories this year...
They're all around the yard because I grew them from seed and stuck them in every which where... This one is called "Grandpa Ott" and is the most striking purple.
This one's called Crimson Rambler. Isn't it lovely?! I also have hoards of "Heavenly Blue" but didn't seem to have a very good shot of them...

This is not a rose! It's my favourite geranium given to me by a wonderful friend's mil, who got it from her grandmother, I believe. I've never seen one like it for sale in a store. Love it.

Look at the size of these cukes! My lovely friend shared her bounty with me so I made fridge bread&butter pickles. These are half gallon jars, to give you perspective on how big the cucumbers are!

Lovely sunshine preserved in glass for the depths of winter... I'm a peach girl. Every year when it's peach season I sing at the top of my lungs the "really love your peaches want to shake your tree" song. Great for the libido...highly recommended ;o)

But out of my OWN garden, tomatoes continue to be the love of my life. This isn't the greatest photo, but this tomato was nearly the size of my baby's HEAD! And yes, this is what miss H needs to be doing in order for me to be putting food by... well, not quite true, I do have the most amazing live-in babysitter!

There is just SO much gratification in saving my own seeds, starting these lovelies in the depths of snow and coldness in my windowsills, transplanting (always a little too early, I'm IMPatient) them out at the first sign of a warm night, and then harvesting the heritage, tastey, beautiful goodness. I LOVE the multitude of colours, tastes and textures I get! And cooking is SO easy, truly, with this as a base. Yum.

Another lovely one. I really did think I had lost my garden in a particularly bad storm we had this summer. SO many of my tomatoes were completely stripped of leaves, the tomatoes that had formed were all pocked by the hail, and the ground was littered with blossoms and tomatoes from the terrible winds. So, perhaps because of that sadness, I am enjoying each and every one of my tomatoes EVEN more than usual this year -- relishing every single one and AMAZED that there are SO many. I've slow-roasted 2 gallons, canned 20 quarts, and we've eaten tomatoes 3 times a day most of the summer... what a blessing tomatoes are!!!

hee! love this photo. canned tomatoes underneath a beefsteak monster. We love making a tomato sandwich with these ones and having ONE slice hang outside the edges of our slice of bread (and we make big loaves!)

And this year, totally inspired by my "let's just do it" friend, I'm saving my tomato skins just like my Grannie always did. My first batch I put on the deck to dry in the hot sun with my Grannie's net thing over it that she always used... and Kenai thought it was the most delicious tray of appies she'd had in a long time! urgh! So these ones stayed indoors in the dehydrator. They dry in minutes!

Yes, tis the season for "putting by"!! It's something I love to do, and although it's so much less relaxing with a one-year-old grabbing onto my leg wailing to be "up", it's still well-worth the effort. She's gotten used to having baths in the kitchen sink while I get everything ready, and then big sister is called to the rescue while I do all the hot-dangerous-stuff... Pantry is filling up rapidly and I tell ya, you just don't dread winter when you have sunshine in jars put by!!

oh! and p.s.

i'm doing really well (if I do say so myself) with accepting what is and filling my life with joy. thanks for all the love on that front!

Love this

2009-08-25T21:24:00.001-07:00

Her name is Lizzi Miller. Check out the story on this beautiful photo here.

Thank you... and then (of course) More...

2009-08-13T12:11:00.007-07:00

Yes, so, first THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR OUTPOURING OF LOVE AND SUPPORT! I am continually amazed at the absolutely incredible tribe of women I have somehow lucked into! Seriously, your love and authenticity with me is the wind beneath my wings...

Secondly, I need to clarify one very key word in that last rant. Okay, here's what I said: "But what I truly need is for somebody to come and relieve me." The key word being "somebody". I didn't actually mean you, or anyother somebody... Here's where I was actually going with that...
The way I see families and our culture and our world as a whole really working in this new age (acknowledging that things worked a lot different back when we were tribes, living communally, never being separated by walls or lot-lines or doorbells...) is for each family unit to find a way to thrive together. So the somebody I was referring to was actually my husband, and truly only my husband. I've been told before that we can't rely on our husbands for everything. I agree. Stay with me here, I apologize for the discombobulation of this post, but really want to get clear on this and there are a lot of thoughts racing around in my head.
Here's the thing: I could absolutely do this on my own. On the days when I know from the beginning that Brent will not be coming home before bedtime, I am more than fine (the key is not to be angry about it -- if I'm upset with Brent, then absolutely nothing goes right in the entire day, so assuming I'm totally accepting that he is working til all hours of the night, I am fine). The kids and I get into a rhythm together, we conserve our energy and our patience, we get to the end of the day far earlier than if daddy was expected, we have our nighttime cuddles and the day seems quite easy. If this was the norm every day, and there were no daddy in the picture (how sad would that be?! I can hardly type the words, truly) it would be a completely different story. I would have completely different expectations of myself -- hell, the world would have different expectations of me! There would be no promise of relief coming at 6, no 6:30, no maybe 7, no for sure by 7:30, oh, hopefully by 8, oh crap, it's just not going to happen tonight, thing, you know? I am NOT saying that it would be easier or better in any way, no, just that it would be DIFFERENT. There would be no subconscious ideals in my head about evenings spent playing catch with daddy or riding bikes as a family or playing a game on the living room floor or popcorn and a movie, only to face the actuality of having time only to brush teeth and go to bed unfulfilled.
The story I am working on is thankfully not a single-parenting story. No, what I'm dealing with is the potential for all my ideals, but the disappointment that one key person somehow is absent from the picture tooooo much of the time. My disappointments come from knowing that he somehow chooses this. Our frequent talks about it reveal that he wishes things were different. He would like to be home every day by 5, with an evening with his family bright and shiney ahead of him. But he hasn't got things nailed in quite yet at work to make that happen... market downturn, staff issues, owner expectations, etc. etc. Relevant? absolutely. Helpful in the heat of things? not at all. Listen, Pedar, I know you are really angry right now and I know a cuddle would help tremendously, but everyone's hungry, the sauce has just exploded all over the kitchen (i seriously need one of those handheld in-pan blenderizer things because hot sauce + blender = explosion and i seem to have one about every week... urgh!), Heidi just woke up from her 20 minute nap and is yelling for me and there's a dog outside chasing the alpacas. Daddy would be home, but Mr. K (owner) wants some reports by day end, two of the accountants have just declared they're pregnant and a homeowner wants to know why blah blah blah. Do you feel better now, honey? No? Me either. Please let me wipe the sauce off your feet and go read a book and don't need anything else from me until I call you to dinner or I might need to go outside and scream on the deck again and you know how much the neighbours love that!!!
And I think the fact that he wishes things were different makes it harder for me! Because I don't believe in wanting things one way yet living things another (which is what I'm doing right now and why this is all causing so much angst...) I believe in living an empowered and powerful life, of making real what our desires are, of manifesting the best life we can imagine,,,, and all that.
So what's in the way? Well, that's one thing I'm trying to sort out. Not just on a surface level, but in a heal-the-planet kind of way. Our culture simply does not put family first. I keep telling my husband that he could be the trend-setter, the refreshing change at work, the one who has as much integrity with his family as he does with Mr. K. He could be as unwilling to be "late" to us as he would be for a managers meeting. Somehow he doesn't buy it. You know me, I am not a weak woman (I've actually never met a weak woman. I don't think it's evolutionarily possible, honestly). But truly, life is almost as good as life can get. I am continually amazed at how blessed my life is. But I am also not one to sit back and let things be almost anything.
My best life is chock-full of goodness, I admit that. My best life is not the easy-way-round. My best life is homegrown food, fabulous dishes made from scratch, clothes hung on the line washed in soap you could eat, house tidy, lovely and smelling of lavender and windows clean and sparkly, of disasters cleaned up quickly, gifts made with love by hand, gardens full of inspiration, air filled with birdsongs we can identify or fantastic music with a good groove, close nurtured-with-love relationships with family and neighbours, etc. etc. People keep telling me that if I'm tired, I need to give up something. Like what??? I keep saying NO WAY! Why should I have to start cutting out slices of my best life so that Mr. K can have not just the best bits of my husband but far more than his share of my husband? Why can't he have him 9 or 10 hours a day and let us have our share of him too!!! I keep imagining calling him up and having this very frank talk with him -- he's a reasonable man, I'm sure I could get him to see the light. But that's when I realize that he is a very reasonable man and he probably already does see the light and I realize that this is not about Mr. K or the homeowners or the staff or anyone but my husband, in the microcosm and about the pressures of our culture in the macro. He chooses to pour himself like this into every job he does. He somehow needs the approval and admiration of knowing he is working very hard, certainly not taking it easy and never ever slacking off. Cultural taboos, yes?
I remember my uncle having a very frank talk with Brent one day years ago, telling him that he was at the prime of his life and needed to "hit it hard" and sacrifice "everything" (meaning needs of family, spouse, self) in order to "get ahead" now so that he wouldn't find himself an old man still needing to work. He painted a picture of Brent building this empire in his youth, to be enjoyed in his latter years in the form of riding his motorcycle around the country, travelling anywhere his heart desired, buying anything his family/wife wanted, etc. I remember being repulsed and intensely angry by this conversation. I don't think of it often, but I do wonder if all this now is the fruit of those seeds planted years ago. THAT is what our culture preaches. You've really made it if you are "somebody" in the corporate world. You've succeeded if you have a large bank account and investments flung across the globe. Children? Family? Marriage? pshaw.
So. That's how I see it. That's what I'm up against. It is what it is. My husband is busy building his empire. The other men we know who are completely wrapped up in building their empires have wives who are either obsessed with their own careers or have made it their career to be very very fabulous in their physical space. Their children are heavily involved in extra-curricular-everything, are breathless when they tell us how many plays they're currently starring in, how many races they've recently won, etc. etc.
and then there's me.
weird.as.hell.
Known to toss phrases around like "boredom is the key to imagination which is the key to brilliance." Me, with the children who run to pee on their favourite tree when they feel the urge, knowing that urine is high in nitrogen and is our version of fertilizer. Kids whose trophies come from their own gardens in the form of cherry tomatoes and perfect crowns of broccoli. Me, the only one who wonders aloud how crazy our world is when husbands are more concerned about their investment portfolio than the wellbeing of their own offspring. And the thing is, I KNOW that I'm different. I'm fully aware that I am far more difficult to accept than they are for me. I am filled with wonder when talking to people from the other side of the culture -- at how they find fulfillment, how they connect with their teens and all that.
The clash of two cultures is what it is, isn't it?
And so, I guess it all boils down to this: I'm searching for a way to completely embrace what is instead of what could be...

Down Side (Rant)

2009-08-11T20:33:00.006-07:00

When they were asking
do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?
and all that...
why oh WHY didn't I have them add:
and do you solemnly swear that you will not give so much of yourself to your work that you have nothing left to give when you come home?
I DO
and do you solemnly swear that you will work no more than 8 hours a day, 5 days a week?
HUH?
okay, 9 hours?
UM.
last offer, 10 hours?
I DO
EXCELLENT! MARRIED!
oooh! what a deal that would've been! 10 hours a day would get him home by 3:30 every day, including commute time! But way back then, 10 hours would've seemed ridiculous. 8 hours seemed 'normal'. Why does 10 seem like such a deal now?
Or at the very least, why didn't I get a signed contract? I got him to sign one saying he wouldn't watch TV sports during dinner! (his dad does) It took some doing, but he did sign it! And I still have it.
But why would I have ever thought it necessary? His dad worked 7am until 3pm longest, and took every Friday off! And Brent always said he didn't want to be one of "those" men who lived for work and lived uninteresting lives because they were obsessed with work and money. We moved to Vernon because he was being fast-tracked into upper management by the developer he worked for in Calgary. Slower pace out here... wasn't expected that you'd work crazy hours... ski when the snow was good, and all that...
Somewhere along the line he's changed his mind and it's affected all of us. He is "one of those men" he once pitied. And I am a cranky-pants.
I think the biggest thing for me is that the kids will in the future remember that he was an amazing dad. Couldn't have been better. and all that...
Because he IS amazing. For 1.5 hours of their waking weekdays, on good days, and only for the weekends on the weeks when things are crazy. And at least he IS here on weekends. every weekend. And that's what I keep telling myself. It could be so much worse. He could work Saturdays too! Lots of men do. and all that...
And I keep telling myself it is what it is and every single night when I go to bed after having grouched the kids into bed I think starting right now, I CHOOSE this. tomorrow will be different. it has to be. tomorrow I will embrace motherhood with my wholebeing and NOTHING will pull me off track.
Oh, I'm not always grumpy. Most of the day I'm engaging and fun and full of patience and energy and loving and everything I want to be. But somewhere along the day,
I.simply.run.out.
of everything.
I hear myself lose my patience, being sharper than necessary...
I hear it, but I can't seem to stop it.
I am just empty.
The kids will likely remember me as that. Empty. Life as a grind rather than a groove. Cranky. Impatient. Yelling.
It's not what I ever wanted. It makes me cry to think of it. I've tried everything to stop living this regretful way... exercise...diet...deep breathing...reading...writing...calling a friend...locking myself in my bedroom... But what I truly need is for somebody to come and relieve me. And so as much as I can temper my frustration, the resentment shows and it's making for a regretful life... the one thing I always said I would NEVER do.
Not many people "get" this. Most have husbands who are home more, or have less demanding jobs at the very least. Some somehow worked through it way back when and either don't remember or somehow found a lot more strength doing it all on their own than I've managed to.
I want to know how. I want to know how to do this motherhood thing, for 12 hours a day after sleepless fever-filled nights, without regret. I want to fulfill my vision of myself as the soft-spot-to-fall, the never-ending-patient, calm, loving, never-snappy, never-grabbing-an-arm-too-hard, never gritting-my-teeth, never-wanting-to-truly-run-away MOTHER.
I've wondered if I need to let go of my 24/7, 365 day ideal?
Would school help? I can't imagine it -- getting empty kids back in exchange for 6 hours to myself?

Here's how my day started out:
8:10 doorbell rings. I pull myself out of sleep to find tree-cutter-men (2) at door to give me quote. My throat is so sore that I can't talk (laryngitis) plus the fact that I haven't spoken yet and had to wake up Heidi to answer door with me... I get outside and realize my shirt is on inside out and the zipper to my skirt is undone and I didn't take the time to pull on underwear. Lovely.
9:00 boy arrives to cut weeds. I still haven't changed or brushed my teeth and he looks a little scared to be dropped off HERE by his mother. I don't blame him.
10:00 racing off to doctor, praying all the way that Brent really does show up for this appointment. We're 5 minutes late. He's not there.
Neither is the usual receptionist who loves my children and knows us well. eeek!
I begin prepping Annika for watching Heidi (who's going through severe separation anxiety at the moment) for me in the waiting room.
This is only the second time I'm seeing this doctor (who took over for my long-term-doctor), who's just emigrated from England, and who is FAR too handsome to be performing the impending breast exam and pap smear!
I'm called into the exam room, and Heidi immediately throws herself on the floor and begins sobbing and calling "mama! mama!"
F#$@!
I decide she has to come with me so I pick her up and take her into the exam room. One look at the table full of shiny instruments and I change my mind. She'll have that tray tipped onto the floor tuit suit. No go.
double F@#$!
I call Annika and tell her, just take her, breathe deeply, relax your body and sing to her.
Right. Absolutely!
It's just exactly what I need to do, but isn't going to work on this one year old who has completely relaxed her body, become a dead screaming weight in her big sisters arms and is now screaming louder than any of us predicted possible.
I break the world record for undressing and putting on the lovely blue paper 'gown' (who the hell ever decided to call it a GOWN?) and call Annika back in, thinking maybe I can hold her during the exam. No. She screams louder. I think maybe Annika can hold her on the chair and I'll sing to her during the exam. Nobody can hear me over her screaming.
Doctor pokes his shocked-looking-not-nearly-so-handsome-face-now through the door asking if this is going to work.
???
NO! it's not going to WORK.
2.5 seconds later all is absolutely quiet.
Doctor says he asked receptionist to help with baby.
I think he's bloody brilliant.
Until his next statement.
So! This could be rather interesting as I haven't done one of these as yet in this office, and have never done one on my own! (no less terrifying said in his lovely English accent!)
Excellent.
Somehow I'd forgotten that they have their helper standing there handing them instruments, adjusting the light, wiping the sweat off their brow and holding their frigging hand through the laborous procedure! CRAP!
There I am, legs splayed, most vulnerable bits of me open to the world, English doctor flayling around trying to reach the swab, trying to reach the tray, reaching above his head for the light that's way too high for him to reach, muttering that he can't find my bloody cervix, switching speculums, flayling again above his head for the light (I finally pulled it down with my toes! okay, that bit does make me giggle even this early into the horrific memory of the entire experience), etc. etc. etc.
My face is brilliant red.
I'm actually amazed at how terribly embarrassed I am by all of this.
I pull my clothes on fast as I can whilst making sure skirt zipper is firmly UP, shirt is most definitely inside RIGHT and race out to see where this new receptionist I've never seen in my life has gone off to with my children. They're on the street! Pointing at cars as they drive by, pointing at helicopters in the air (fighting the local fires), everyone having a gay time.
We pack into the car. I take the 15 seconds to text my husband (not pretty), drive over to Midian to get frozen carmel lattes to deliver back to doctor and receptionist, take a deep breath and we're off to the next appointment.
THAT is a mother's life. Plain and simple.

Men don't get it.
How could they, really?
Not just the being alone with 3 children for a pap, or the strange embarassment even at 40 at having a pap done by a strange male doctor... But just the whole thing about being a mother. My husband does not understand why I'm empty or cranky. Ever. He knows I get precious little sleep at the best of times, he knows how full on it is having the dynamics of 3 kids around allllll the time. He knows that, but he doesn't get it. He's tried. He thinks he gets it. He doesn't get it.
And lest you (or I, in my darkest hour) think my husband is simply just not that into me or us, I assure you that he is. People who really know him, know that he is absolutely dedicated to us and completely in love with us.
So why does he pour himself into work like this?
Why does he choose to do what it takes to get the job done right at work? but not so much at home?
Is it because I am so bloodyhell capable? Does he know that somehow I CAN and WILL get through a pap on my own? Or dinner prep? Or a throwing up kid? Or all 3 throwing up kids? Wilst throwing up myself?
Does he have more confidence in me than he does in the idiots he employs at work?
Would it behoove me to be less capable?
But we can only be who we are.
And who I am is capable, absolutely, but not thriving being on my own with my 3 amazing kids this many hours a day, this many days in a row... Who I am is feeling a lot less capable after the annual exam saga today... Who I am is searching for answers just now...

Someone Turned One!!!

2009-08-07T12:36:00.007-07:00

Oh my, I love this!

2009-07-30T08:54:00.003-07:00

Recently, in a large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:

¨THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?¨

A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:

Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans). They have an active sex life, they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp. They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia. Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans. They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don't exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human? They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them not to mention how could they have sex? Therefore they do not have kids either. Not to mention who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store? The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.

P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a coffee with my friends. With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren't heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy. Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, Good gosh, look how smart I am.

too precious for words

2009-07-07T21:22:00.002-07:00

10 Minute Delicious Soup!

2009-06-29T17:44:00.006-07:00

For those of us with half a freezer full of pureed pumpkin from last Autumn, here's the perfect 10 minute soup!
Thai Pumpkin Curry Soup from "The Vegetarian Mother's Cookbook" by Cathe Olson
2 cups (15 oz) pureed, cooked pumpkin
1 (14 oz) can coconut milk
2 cups stock (veg or I use my own chicken stock)
1 tsp red curry paste (I use Thai Kitchen brand)
1/4 tsp sea salt
Boil together, remove from heat and add:
1 Tbsp miso
and sprinkle with Miner's Lettuce (looks like lilypads, tastes better than beansprouts and lettuce put together, and once you have them in your garden you'll never be without them! yum!)
(or cilantro if you're one of those people, wink! wink!)
We're eating it with crusty bread tonight out on the deck--it's the perfect summer soup,who'da thought?! SO good!

I'd say that's a rave review! Same from all 3 little ones!

A Dream Come True

2009-06-28T21:35:00.003-07:00

Mr. P LOVES helicopters and has long talked of being a helicopter pilot when he grows up. WELL! Today he got a ride... SUCH FUN!

20 minutes of sheer excitement!

Happy Father's Day!

2009-06-21T21:36:00.003-07:00

I'm glad there's a special day to slow down and make especially sure that you know how much you're honoured and appreciated and admired just inyour role of 'Dad'. Lately I've been keenly aware of what a great dad you are -- not just from my perspective but especially from your kids'. You're loving and tender and really "there" for them when you need to be. Yet you're fun and silly and sporty and adventurous with them too. You teach them cool stuff and you're patient and calm most of the time when they need you to be. You're solid and predictable enough for them to really depend on you yet you break any mold anybody's ever set out - racing in the Over The Hill Downhill and riding your bike down the road from Silver Star. You're exciting and funny and handsome and generous -- everything a kid wants their dad to be. Truly, our kids are, hands down, the luckiest kids I know because you are their dad. And if nothing else ever went right in their lives, that one thing would be enough to carry them along. You are such a great dad, Brent.
And theother side of that, of course, is that you love their mother and that's huge. You teach them, through your love for me to be honest, dependable, worthy and accepting of love. Our example of how to work things out, how to stick things out, how to love in spite of... will carry them the rest of the way. They'll know they're worthy of being deeply loved no matter what -- and they'll be willing to take the risk of loving deeply and putting themselves out there. I'm SO grateful for your love for them, and even more for your love for me. I love you! Happy Father's Day!

What We're Grooving To...

2009-06-21T20:41:00.005-07:00

(we fastforward the first 37 seconds -- have a listen! it's worth it!)

This great big happy beautiful life...

2009-06-19T12:51:00.022-07:00

Well, hello there!
and welcome back to me, i suppose! Looks like it's been about 6 months -- now how did THAT happen?? Half of a year. Half of my baby's life! I honestly just can't figure out how time passes so quickly -- it's too cliche to even talk about, really, but there you have it.

When I try to think of a way to break back into blogging, I don't know where to even start. I look back over the photos from the past 6 months and I get completely overwhelmed with how blessed my life is. I waffle between wanting to catch up on absolutely every incredibly wonderful thing that's happened complete with hundreds of photos, to wondering what to even post about -- stuck in this feeling of amazement that I get to live this great big beautiful life of mine...

Why am I so blessed? Sometimes I look around the world and feel sick that so so many mothers and children live in fear. Constant fear of one thing or another. And I wonder. Why do I get this life and they get that one? Thank you, Great Mother, for this great big beautiful happy life of mine...

Yet it's so easy to focus in on the minutiae, to get caught up in the too-muchness of it all, to waste away precious moments stressing about what could be a trifle different... and poof! you open your eyes and half a year has passed...

The past six months I've been getting better at being really present, on creating new rituals and new healthier habits, and I think for me, part of that was spending precious little time on the computer. Now that I have a little better balance in my life I'll ease back into keeping up with my blog. I DO appreciate all the requests I've received (especially recently) to get back into blogging, and so, here I am! Hello hello!
And so... to catch me up and share with you where we've been the past six months (this part's for you, Kik!) here goes...

Annika is 7 and a half already. Full of joy, her laughter more contagious than ever, very athletic, artistic, curious, full of adventure and completely in love with Mother Earth. She's kinder than necessary, more thoughtful than expected, confident beyond her years, self-disciplined enough to make up for the rest of us (I swear I must've accidentally given her all mine!!) and full of magic. She's our bird-whisperer, our flower-arranger, our link to the fairy world. She's a tremendous help with Heidi, and absolutely passionate about learning. She's learning to play the piano, is a natural ballerina, discovered soccer (her first experience being on a team -- loved it!) and participated in her first track and field competition. She can't learn enough about First Nations peoples and all things naturalist. She is a true lover of life -- already wishing it would slow down so she could relish the deliciousness of it more...

Pedar is 5 and a quarter! Oh My! He's all boy, fighting the dragons in my spring flowers with his sword (oops, sorry mummy!), running his cars along the racetrack that circles the car (yes, ON the car), drawing his masterpieces on the inside of the cupboard doors, unable to resist spraying his sisters with the garden hose even when he solemnly promises he won't... And of course, finding a way to turn himself grub from head to toe when we're on our way out... But he surprises us all the time with his clever sense of humour, his intense desire to show his love and appreciation, his generosity of spirit -- complimenting us on our beauty and our talents. He has his first garden this year and shares his strawberries and garlic chives and peas with us, completely unaware of his green thumb! He's also growing an avocado tree inside, which he compliments every single morning on its growth and health and beauty! He adores riding his bike, LOVES music and can groove like no white man should even be able to. He is absolutely, my life's greatest teacher, and I admit, some days the lessons seem too hard, but we're growing up together. He's our bird identifier, our bookworm, our link to the unseen world of imaginary friends and grannies and grandads who have come back to life...

And then there's Heidi Sue. The baby of my heart. She is absolutely delicious. I wonder sometimes if she tires of me nibbling on her all day every day and most of the night too... I hate to admit, but she's nearly a year!! ????? !!!!! She started walking just before 10 months and she is a GOING CONCERN. I can't keep up, truthfully, and I'm so grateful my other two can! She loves the outdoors, even as a teeny wordless one in the sling, she'd let out a great yell whenever we'd get close to the door, indicating her intense desire to go outside ! She adores the chickens, imitating our lovely rooster, the cat, who learned quickly to steer clear of miss H and her clingy little grip! and most of all "dog dog"! She's intrigued by the alpacas and their frequent warnings to us of bears passing through our property, or, like today, a deer getting too near (for their comfort). As the youngest I never understood the whole taunting I got as the spoiled brat of the family, but now that I have a "youngest", I get it completely. She is just too adorable to need to play by any rules, and that "mind of her own" that people keep warning us about her, well, we find it adorable and wouldn't have her any other way. She loves to be tickled, throwing back her head with sheer joy as the peals of her laughter ring out... Pulling her toes back while she catches her breath and then sticking them out to me again, begging for more... She's my imp, my muse, my baby!

Brent is doing great. He loves me. He loves his kids. He loves his job. Remember how sure I was that first time I met him that he was my soulmate? the one I'd spend my life with? Yeah, well, nothing's changed. He's even more beautiful, more amazing now -- I see him unexpectedly around a corner and my heart does flips and I'm amazed all over again that he's really mine. He's an amazing father, a wonderful partner, and still not a romantic thought in his head... he he he That's not true, he did whisk us away to The Empress for my birthday this year! He kept it a secret right up until we were on the plane, even packing our bags for us (well, mostly). Such a fun weekend we had!!

Aren't these out-takes just SO funny? They make me laugh!

And this one! Priceless!!! Have I changed any? he he he

Mama, Do You Believe Santa is REAL?

2008-12-12T09:47:00.016-08:00

Of course I do! This time of year has been magical and special to all people everywhere for thousands of years. People all over the world celebrate this magical time, but it looks different everywhere. There are lots of versions Santa Claus -- the idea of him is changing all the time. The name Santa Claus didn't even exist until Grandpa was a little boy! The magic of this time of year has long been impersonated by Father Winter, St. Nicholas, Father Christmas, and before that his name was Thor or Odin or Saturn, back when people celebrated the return of the Sun. People call this special time Solstice, Kwanzaa, Ramadan, Hanukkah, Saint Lucia Day, Omisoka, Eid, Fiesta of our Lady of Guadalupe, and lots more, just depending on where you live in the world. There's something very special about this time of year and it doesn't matter what you call it, or what it looks like, what matters is that you believe in it. It's your believing that makes it real.

"But is there really a Santa Claus?"

You know how some people believe that God looks like a person and lives in a place called Heaven and controls everything on the earth? You know how they believe that if you're good then God will reward you, and if you're not then God will punish you? Well, that's how some people believe about Santa too -- that he's a sort of person who lives at the North Pole and controls Christmas. They believe that he only brings gifts to children he approves of, and children who write him letters and all that.

And you know how mummy believes that God is inside all of us? That everything is sacred, and we are all perfect and loveable and the Great Mother takes care of us because we take care of her -- how every living thing is the Great Mother and how we all have to take care of each other in order for the magic of life to continue? Well, that's what mummy believes about Santa too. I believe there are lots of words for Santa: kindness, love, thoughtfulness, peace, joy, even God and Goddess. I believe that Santa is inside all of us, and that we all have to find ways to take care of each other and make each other feel special, and help each others' dreams come true in order for the magic of Christmas to continue.

"Zara said it's just mums and dads that do presents and it's not magic at all."
Then that's what's real for Zara. In order for ANYTHING to be real, you have to believe in it. Nobody's right and nobody's wrong for what they believe in. The only way to make things real is by believing in them. Remember the Velveteen Rabbit? And nobody can make what you believe in not real. It's maybe not real for them, but that can't make it not real for you, unless you decide to stop believing. I don't believe in the idea of the God that lots of people believe in, but that doesn't make it not real for them. And they don't believe in the Great Mother idea that I believe in, but that will never make it not real for me. So you get to decide what YOU believe in, sweet girl, and then it doesn't matter who agrees or disagrees with you. And besides, mums and dads ARE Santa, just like sisters and brothers and grandmas and grandpas and friends and neighbours and cousins and ... We're ALL Santa, sweet girl, and we're ALL magic. Remember how your friends saw how much you liked a bow and arrow and so they secretly got busy and made you a very special one of your very own? That's the magic of Christmas.

"But that wasn't Christmas, mumma."

No, that didn't happen in December, but that was still what this is all about. Just like you have a birthday on a certain day, but that doesn't mean you're not special the rest of the year too. Your birthday is just a certain day that we set aside to really focus on you and make sure you feel extra special, and to celebrate the beginning of you. Christmas time, or Solstice, or whatever you want to call it is the same -- the spirit of it exists all year long, it's just that lots of people agree that this is the time of year when we will celebrate its very existence in an extra special way.

"So do you believe in a Santa? Do you believe Santa's an elf? "
Do I believe in a man who comes down your chimney and gives you presents? No, I don't. But do I believe there's extra magic on Christmas Eve and that that extra magic is everywhere, including coming down the chimney and in your stockings and everywhere? Absolutely! With so many people around the world believing and putting out stockings or shoes or baskets or whatever they do, we make that magic extra real on that night. I like setting out our stockings and putting out food for the reindeer and a cookie for Santa. I love singing songs at this time of year that lots of people know. I love reading fun stories and having this time of year be extra special. I believe in it because it's fun and because I want to. And because I absolutely believe in magic with all my heart.

"So why don't some people believe in magic or Santa or fairies?"

Honey, I don't know why people believe what they believe. And I sure don't want to tell you what to believe. I want you to discover the magic of your own beliefs and feelings and wonderments. We can only know what's real for us -- like me believing that the cedar trees tell me if they don't want me cutting their branches -- that's as real as real can be for me. Just yesterday I asked one big tree and I knew in my heart that she didn't want me cutting her branches. I don't know if it's because she's had too many cut by other people this year, or what. It doesn't matter. I don't have to understand it. And probably most people would tell me that they don't believe in that -- that trees can't communicate with us, but that doesn't mean what I believe isn't real. There are lots and lots of things that we will never understand in this world. That's what I call magic. You know how you feel when the snowflakes are falling and the sound and feel and smell that makes you tingle all over? Nobody can ever completely understand what that is about. But that doesn't mean it's not real. And I'll tell you one thing, people might think they don't believe in magic or Santa or fairies, but they probably just call those things some other name. There aren't very many people in this world who don't believe in the unexplainable beauty of birth and love and how it makes them feel when someone's extra kind to them. They just might not have the same words as we do. And that's okay. Nobody's right and nobody's wrong when it comes to their beliefs in magic.

This is just exactly why I gave you that necklace for your birthday, to remind you that YOU are magic. We all are, of course, but you inspire me every day in the magical ways of kindness and thoughtfulness and love. If someone wanted to believe that one person was Santa, they could sure believe it's you. I'm always amazed at how thoughtful you are, how you're always thinking of ways to make people feel special. I love how you want to make things for people, watching them carefully, thinking extra deeply about them, discovering what it is that would bring them extra joy... I believe in santa magic, my love, because I believe in YOU.

As Promised... that magical night revisited

2008-11-03T20:54:00.013-08:00

My birth actually started on the Friday night when I was surprised with a blessingway from my friends. I was surrounded by goddesses, hands on my belly, down in the heart of the cedar grove by the creek, each of my dear friends blessing my baby, myself and my birth. It was one of the most deeply spiritual experiences I've ever had. I have never felt that much power and love around me and I knew I was experiencing a ritual of the ancients who knew the power of tribe, of sisterhood, and of tapping into the pulse of the Great Mother. As we joined ourselves with one long piece of wool I knew that I would have the most powerful birth of my life. My sweet friends filled my soul and decorated my belly with their love...

Saturday my little family went to the lake and spent the night. Swimming in the cool water I could feel the little spirit within me preparing me for a wonderful birth. I dreamt that night of this little being emerging into the lake as I swam. Thankfully, she didn't ;o)

Sunday we had a scare with Pedar -- a terribly scarey fever and ferocious vomiting. It was the perfect reminder of how tenuous everything in this life is -- and how precious it is. Sunday night my wonderful aunt arrived and I knew things would happen soon...

Monday night I fell asleep early and was dreaming that I was birthing without knowing I was birthing and was wondering how I would know to wake up when the baby was born. Then I woke up with a powerful contraction and knew instantly that things were starting. I rode the waves of the contractions for a half hour and then got up to email my friends to light their candles and cut the strings around their wrists (in case any of them were still awake). I read my friend Tabitha's birth story and watched a birth video she'd sent me of a powerful birth of one of her friends'. Then I went outside. There were so many stars and they were pulsing so strongly I felt I was in a dream. A memory of being in the bottom of the grand canyon with my family on a river rafting trip came to me and I remembered hearing my mother's laugh echo against the canyon walls. I closed my eyes and felt myself riding on the rapids of that powerful river as I rode through several more contractions. I could feel the power of the stars surging into my body as I stood under them. I went for a walk, then, and my sweet dog kept close by my side, rubbing her head into my hand as I moaned and leaned against the trees with each strengthening surge. The power of the trees felt like my sisters' hands again on my belly, pouring love and blessings into me. I've never felt the life force of my beloved trees as I did that night. An image came to me of Dina in "The Red Tent" in labour, looking into the eyes of the women around her and knowing that she could do this because of the love and strength in their eyes. That's how I felt looking up at the trees above me -- like I was surrounded by a powerful sisterhood. And it reminded me of the women in my tribe surrounding me at my blessingway -- of looking into their eyes and seeing the love and strength pouring into me...
I hung balloons at the top of the driveway for the midwife and her attendant and came back down slowly, stopping and moaning up to the stars through the trees with each surge. I laid on the bed outside and discovered the fingernail moon peeking at me through the oak tree and felt her moan with me and pour down her magic into me as I moaned up to her. Now in the moon shadows I realized that my contractions were getting very close together and I wondered if I should let anyone know what was happening! I went to get Brent's watch to time my surges, and he woke up as I reached for it. His eyes flew open and he said "what's happening?" I said "I'm in labour, but I'm doing fine and I'll come get you when I need you." He said "OK" and closed his eyes again. But minutes later I could hear him in the bathroom listening to me work through my surges. Somehow that quickened me and with the surges only 3 minutes apart I called the midwife and I called Andrea to come be with the kids. I'd tested positive for Group B Strep, so my midwife asked me on the phone if I wanted to take the antibiotics. I told her I felt healthy and strong and my water hadn't broken so I would not need them. She agreed and said she'd come right over.
I worked through a few more contractions and at 3:30 I went downstairs and started the bath. The midwife arrived just as I was getting into the tub and with all the candles lit, the warm water and my little pregnant goddess statue with me, my contractions slowed down. I felt SO joyful, so ready, so powerful! Brent's eyes were shining and I could feel that he was finally ready to be a daddy to three! His eyes are so expressive and that night I could feel love and faith in them every time he looked at me. The surges resumed and at 4:15 I could tell that things were going to start to get more intense so I asked Andrea and Brent to wake A&P. They came down, their eyes shining with excitement and sat with us in the bathroom as I worked through the next few surges. My aunt had woken up too and we were all there together in the bathroom. It was wonderful having everyone there with me with the powerful birthing energy filling up the little room. A & P were well prepared -- we'd watched some birth videos, we'd looked at the very graphic photos of A's birth, we'd practiced what the sounds were going to be like and read several wonderful children's books about homebirth. They weren't worried at all.
After awhile I felt I needed to work harder and so I asked everyone to leave the room, except Brent. Andrea took A&P into the room next to the bathroom and read stories to them. They listened for my contractions and when I moaned through each surge they stopped reading and held out their hands and sent me opening up energy through their hands (bless!) At one point it occurred to me that my moaning might be scaring them, but I knew they were with Andrea and that she had complete faith in the process and so I was able to completely let that fear go and do what I needed to do. What a gift! The surges were intense and so powerful and I found it easiest labouring on my side in the water.

The midwife asked if she could check me so she'd know when to call her attendant and I said she could as long as she didn't tell me how dilated I was. When the attendant arrived I saw her out of the corner of my eye and thought she was Brent's mum! I was so startled I missed a contraction!! We had a good laugh about that later!
Soon I was pushing and it felt soooooooo good to push. I was pushing because my body couldn't do anything but push and it was such a primal, deep, amazing feeling. In my previous two births my midwives had told me when to push and I wasn't as in touch with the feeling as I was this time. Each push felt like a deep primal earthy orgasm. It was so amazing. I felt the head crown and told Brent to hurry A&P back in and everyone rushed in. It was harder than I'd remembered to push the head out and I learned later that that was because the water sac was still intact! The midwife broke the sac when she checked for the cord, which was around the neck. She told me to push again and I was waiting for another contraction. She told me to push with a sound of urgency and then asked her attendant for her "instrument tray" and so I pushed with all my might (I thought she was going to cut me!) and out came my little baby. She lifted her up and then had to pull her back down to loop her through the cord and up onto my chest came my squidgy tiny baby. Her eyes were wide open and she looked right at A&P. She cried a little and we were all just in awe of her. Diane (attendant) put a towel over her and said something like "we don't want him to get cold" so I thought she was a HE! I was surprised! Then a few minutes of oohing and awwing later, Sylvia (midwife) asked if we wanted to check to see if it was a boy or girl and A checked and wasn't sure! All she could see was a bum. Sylvia told her it was a little sister so A announced her name. She would have been Hans Michael had she been a boy. Brent took our wee girl onto his chest so I could get out of the tub and she cried. A got very protective and told the midwife that her little sister did not like being moved around. Bless! We were all in bed upstairs within minutes and oh! What a beautiful feeling to know that our sweet little family was complete.

The sweetest girl

2008-11-03T20:42:00.005-08:00

I never seem to remember from baby to baby just how powerful the love bond is between a mother and her new baby... This little angel is just the sweetest thing there's ever been. She's as quiet and gentle as a little fawn, so alert and strong and connected to her mama. She loves the sling sometimes, and can't be convinced when she doesn't... She loves to sit in her bouncy chair and coo to her big brother and sister. She loves to talk and her laughter is so contagious that we've been known to fall off our chairs from the pure joy of her...

She communicates so effectively and she really never cries.

She lets me know just what she needs when she needs it and is the squidgiest, sweetest smelling little pixie...
Her smile lights up the whole room and truly there's never been a more loved baby. Her big sister and big brother worship her and she adores them right back. Just look at her after-bath-cupie hair!

She loves her daddy too. But she's mama's little girl. Nothing makes her happier than the sight of my face over her. Her whole body smiles with joy. I'd forgotten what that does to the insides of a mama... Such.sweet.sweet.bliss...

All Hallow's Eve

2008-11-03T20:33:00.008-08:00

This is us at our neighbour's door (H not so sure!)

A was "herself" (a witch) and P was a dragon
our neighbours took this one and it's the only picture we have of me. I was a witch at our Samhain party, but I didn't get any photos. Sorry! H was the cutest little bunny evah!

A and I made these cute little treat bags out of paper mache and pipe cleaners. They were totally A's idea. They turned out so cute!

Samhain Fun

2008-10-31T09:44:00.027-07:00

I love this...

2008-08-21T18:46:00.002-07:00

Bliss

2008-08-03T11:47:00.006-07:00

My life overflows with joy and love and happiness...

H is a sweet, happy, content, healthy baby. It's already hard to imagine our family without her! It was absolute love at first sight and I can hardly take my eyes off her.

A and P are delighted with the birth and their wee sister and seem so balanced and absolutely in love with her and each other and everything in their world. This is a pretty magical, potent time in our lives! It's total bliss having daddy home these sweet sweet days! And while it's a bit of a challenge to have any time bonding together, we're trying to make sure he gets lots of time holding and bonding with his newest daughter too. He adores her!!
The weather couldn't be more ideal just now, the flowers are all in bloom and the tomatoes are ripening! Life doesn't get any better than this...
p.s. The birth was absolutely amazing and I've promised several people I'd post about it and I will... As time permits... Until then, here's a lovely glimpse.

Supper fixin's

2008-07-22T21:19:00.004-07:00

We're eating almost soley from the garden now. We picked and ate the last of the strawberries today as well as the last (likely) of the peas and the strawberry spinach. The first beans are coming on and we're eating our beets, kale, garlic, radishes, celery, kohlrabi, cucumbers and loads of raspberries. The salad greens are fading and getting bitter except for the Drunken Woman lettuce -- must plant more of that again soon. We're eating about 3 cups of basil every day in the form of pesto (YUM!) -- pesto pasta, pesto on toast, pesto by the fork-full, pesto in sandwiches... I did manage to freeze a few blocks of it today for those yummy soups in the winter... I haven't had much luck with sweetpeas since we moved here, so this year I planted loads of seeds in 3 different locations. WELL! We have several enormous bouquets ready to pick every single day! What a blessing a garden is! How do people live without one?!

Full Term

2008-07-22T21:08:00.002-07:00

Any day now...

I'm manifesting a peaceful, gentle, quick birth. I want my children to be there and witness the absolute miracle of such a birth. I want them to know that birth isn't scarey but is a natural, beautiful part of a natural, beautiful life. I see myself walking a lot during labour, or resting peacefully on the bed, whichever feels right at the time. I hear myself moaning at the moon or the sun or the clouds or whatever the sky may hold... I see myself lying in a warm tub of water just when the contractions get too strong and then my baby gently slipping into our lives and hearts forever...

Annika special ceremony

2008-07-08T12:36:00.007-07:00

Babies grow up so fast. At five they're nothing like the baby you carried around endlessly, but they still have the emotional outbursts of a toddler, still walking the thin line between baby and child. But something happens at six. Annika has come through an enormous passage the last few months -- taking on so many more responsibilities, managing her emotions in a new way, just growing up tremendously. She's no longer a baby, she's a mature child, she's entered true girlhood. We wanted to mark the occasion in a special way, with ritual and celebration. We chose the summer solstice for our celebration, a traditional time of letting go -- of the sun's long rays, of the lengthening days, of moving forward and embracing what IS. Just as the sun was sinking in the sky, we made a ceremonial journey down to our sacred cedars for our own letting-go ceremony.

We hung this "veil" in the cedars and on one side we said good-bye to our "baby girl" reminding her of how she was as a baby, remembering all the things we loved about her as a baby. She had dressed very special for the occasion, wearing her favourite white cotton dress, but there were too many bugs/mosquitoes. I made her daisy crown from the wild daisies in our fields. She put her goddess necklace on herself and I think she really "got" what this was all about even more deeply than the rest of us, perhaps. I didn't expect to feel quite so emotional as I did, letting go of my little girl being a baby, but I cried openly! Then we wiped our tears and went to the other side of the veil and she walked through to our cheers and happy welcomes to her as a girl-child. I gave her a little piano music box (it plays "It's a Small World") that I'd received from my parents when I was little. She LOVED the whole ceremony. We hugged her and talked about what we were seeing in her that made such a ceremony important. She added to what we had seen and was beaming.

Afterwards we had our bonfire to celebrate the sun, sang our good-bye songs to the sun and had a wonderful feast and party. I love this picture of little Pedar listening to his big sister. Their growing, beautiful relationship is one of the things we were celebrating -- as she's matured they've fallen into a wonderful rhythm of playing and learning together. I can't describe how amazing it is, but I feel like this photo kind of captures it.

Annika wanted to cook her own marshmallow for the first time ALL by herself. This was her idea (as most things are in her life these days) and she was so proud of the results...

I can't believe it's been 6 1/2 years since I became a mother. I can't believe how beautiful my firstborn child is -- she has a gentle presence, a kindness, a thoughtfulness that can't be taught. She cares deeply about all things and is intense in a way that shakes the earth sometimes, and she is always thinking of ways to share herself, to help others lives be easier, to develop herself in new ways. I feel so blessed to be this little girl's mother. Humbled and inspired.

***Is she perfect? Absolutely not. Was the party perfect? Nope. Is anything ever perfect? Nope. I'd just picked a big basket of strawberries to eat with the daffodil cake I'd made for the occasion. I'd cut some in half and circled the top of the cake with them twice (so pretty) and gone back to the garden to pick more to eat alongside. I heard Annika shriek and looked up to see the cake had been half eaten by one very satisfied but guilty dog! At least she didn't pull the cake off the table, but had eaten as much as she could eat from the ground! I was pretty distraught, but my daughter reminded me of what dogs can really understand and so we had a good laugh about it all. We cut off the part that Kenai had marred (nearly half) and ate the rest. It was delicious! And we really only needed half a cake -- she was 6 1/2 afterall! Kenai figured that out before we did :o)

Summer Meal

2008-06-20T14:41:00.005-07:00

Ever since reading "A Handmade Life" (which I could never recommend highly enough) I've had a different attitude towards preparing meals for my family. I was feeling uninspired and sometimes resentful about the task and now I see it as such a priviledge -- something to be cherished and celebrated as I nourish myself, my unborn baby, my children and my hardworking husband. Along with my shift in perspective has come a different attitude from my family, as well. Wee P had gotten into the habit of announcing he wasn't eating whatever it was I'd made before he'd even sat down at the table. Now, as we hold each others hands and say our little blessing together before we eat, there's just a different energy at the table. I prepare the food with a grateful heart (and often with lots of help from my children) and that seems to truly translate into grateful partakers. It's really beautiful. I'd so much rather stir gratitude and love and joy and abundance into my food than resentment!

So, with that in mind, I just had to share a peek at our delicious supper last night...

Fresh caught trout, new potatoes (not from my garden) with lots of fresh dill, asparagus (last of the season?), greens from our garden topped with grilled fresh goat cheese (an idea from another book that I loved, "A Pig in Provence") and homemade bread just out of the oven... and then cinnamon buns for dessert.

Does life get any better?

Bringing the beauties inside

2008-06-05T19:01:00.005-07:00

It's been raining hard today so I cut some of the lovely blooms in the garden to rescue them from the dirt. Their heads, heavy with rain, were nearly touching the ground when I cut them.

My friend (who's also my aunt) gave me this beautiful vase when my Grandma died (her mum) (and I bought the little bird to go with it on the mantle) with the clear understanding that I would keep it full of flowers to cheer myself this spring and summer! It's been full since the very first blooms of spring and always cheers up the living room (and me!) SO much. This bouquet is the prettiest so far, but was difficult to get a good photo of it. This is for you, M! THANK YOU!

After a while you learn the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining soul.
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning,
and company doesn’t always mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.
And you begin to build your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
and futures have way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns
if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden,
and you decorate your own soul,
rather than waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure.
That you really are strong,
and that you really do have worth
And you learn,
and you learn,
with every goodbye you learn.

Veronica A. Shoffstall

Blooming in the Garden...

2008-06-05T10:26:00.012-07:00

I always mourn the end of lilac season. It never seems to last long enough. There are still a few blooms effusing their heady perfume into our yard, but I'm reminded that there are other beauties just coming on blooming too!

I love our snowball bush.
It's like a giant hydrangea tree to me

This is the first year this "black iris" has bloomed. It's more beautiful than I'd imagined it would be.

We have loads of iris blooming, but this one sort of snuck out from beside a path without being invited and we love the colour of it too!

Poppies. A huge favourite for me.

Siberian iris blooming for the first time too... They used to grow wild in Alaska and I'd stop and pick armloads of them from the ditches. They'd only last a day, picked, but I loved them so...

Coral bells. I love any bits of red and blue or purple in the garden...

And a little cranesbill given by a friend last spring.

Recent Visitors

2008-06-05T09:46:00.007-07:00

One morning Annika found a small robin, with its parents, hopping around in our grass. She tried to find our cat but was unsuccessful, so she and Pedar stationed themselves outside to "guard" the little thing. The mother saw that a banty hen was nibbling nearby, but must have decided that she wasn't a threat because her baby hopped right beside the banty, the banty gave the poor little thing a giant peck on the head, the children both yelled and jumped up and chased the banty back into the coop, and the little robin hid here, beside the rainbarrel for awhile. It was perfectly still, practicing its camouflage techniques. Annika desperately wanted to pick it up, but I felt this might stress its parents too much and didn't let her. She has proven to be a bird whisperer in seasons gone by, healing little birds of varied species, so I probably should've stayed out of it, but I didn't. I went into the house to make tea and suddenly heard the most terrible roar that caused me to drop the spoonful of tealeaves and race outside. I found the cause of the terrible sound was my wee daughter, racing across the yard, roaring from her belly and then suddenly crying as she successfully scared the cat from mid-pounce! I didn't realize that mother-bear instinct was inside us from birth, but apparently it is! I felt a bit of shock from this sound that had emerged from my girl, but terribly proud too!

And now this little robin is losing its spots and flapping happily around our yard each day. Happy endings are the best, aren't they? :o)
This little visitor came to stay for 16 hours on our door jam one evening! We all associate dragonflies with Oma and it was a lovely constant reminder that we get to SEE her and BE with her in less than a month! I don't know if this little critter was cold or hurt in some way, but it flew away once the sun came out the following morning.
Indigo buntings are one of my favourite birds since childhood, perhaps because I've so rarely seen them. In fact, there is one on the cover of our birding book (which my family has used since I was a child) but I'd never seen one in real life until we moved here. The first June we were here I saw one in the forest and was star-struck. I couldn't believe I'd REALLY seen one! I seem to see one nearly every June, but only once, in the years that have proceeded. The other night we were eating our supper on the deck when suddenly I said "Oh my goddess, everyone turn slowly around and LOOK at that!" My entire family froze in mid-bite, wondering whatever it was I could see behind them! There, sitting on top of the birdfeeder not 10 feet away from the table was an indigo bunting! FINALLY I got to share this bird sighting with my family! It soon flew away but Brent managed to get a photo of it in a distant tree for me. We saw its mate too, and we're HOPING they decide to nest somewhere nearby.

Another evening we were having dinner when our friendly Great Blue Heron flew RIGHT past the deck, its long legs extended for landing in our creek. We all ran down the bank, wanting to get a better look at it. We're wanting such great birds to land in our pond to deposit the fish eggs that cling to their legs! This one stuck to the creek, but we watched it for a long time, fishing for the small trout that inhabit our beloved creek.
The kids and I were at Briteland, recently, and they had a bag of ladybugs on the counter for sale. Annika was SO distraught to see her favourite little creatures "trapped" inside the plastic. I explained to her that they were fine, they had food, that they would be bought by someone and released for pest control, but she couldn't get the image of these little creatures inside plastic out of her head. So she decided to buy them and release them herself. What a delight! Now when she sees ladybugs around the yard she's quite sure they're one of her "rescued" ones.

We also had a lovely brown bear visit recently, and we sat on the fence watching and videoing (hence, no photos) it as it dug for roots and ate grass. It looked up at us now and then, but showed no interest in us, despite our alpacas constant warning noises of danger nearby.

And then yesterday we found deer tracks on the path below our house leading up to our house! It must have passed right outside my bedroom window but we didn't see it.

We live in such a magical place.

Be the change you want to see...

2008-05-28T10:39:00.004-07:00

I've been following the path of this inspiring family since my own decision to change the way we live. But I hadn't seen this particular clip. SO inspiring. Thanks, Heather!

Lambs Quarter

2008-05-28T09:29:00.004-07:00

One thing we always look forward to this time of year is the lambs quarter being just at the right size for harvesting. We eat it straight out of the garden along with a pea leaf or a bit of fresh dill struggling to grow against the picking fingers... Lambs quarter was a staple in my grannie's kitchen, but most people just think of it as a weed now. It's ready before spinach and tastes very similar. It's like any weed at our place, though, we have too much of it. We eat as much as we can of it while it's small and tender, and then try to get as much of it pulled and onto the compost heap, but we seem to have more each year.

Annika picked a big basket of it last night and I put some in the salad, some in the stir fry and used some in my omelette this morning. Our hens are laying really well just now too, so we're flush with eggs, and a dutch family has just started selling their homemade gouda cheese that they make from their beloved grass-fed cows that they milk every morning. I had a tomato and some mushrooms from a local greenhouse that I chopped up and fried up with some chives and bits of thyme straight from the garden. Lastly I poured a bit of my salmon oil on it (not so local, but delicious for my developing baby's brain just now). SO YUM I ate half before Annika suggested taking a photo! Best omelette ever!

A Perfect End to a Perfect Day

2008-05-27T22:40:00.004-07:00

One of my favourite memories growing up is having tea, fresh bread and homemade butter for supper on the days when mum made bread (every week). My own kids don't get the homemade butter, but they do get homemade mayonnaise, fresh local gouda cheese, freshly made raspberry jam (from frozen berries) and fresh-picked asparagus. And of course, cinnamon buns for dessert. What's not to love?!

I can't get enough of lilacs this time of year... This photo's for you, Marti!

My Little Dancer

2008-05-27T22:14:00.007-07:00

Annika's dance recital was Friday night. She was SO excited to be a forest fairy in the story. I have a feeling this might be her last recital with Andrea so I wanted to make it extra special for her...

We put her hair in hot rollers for the very first time...

and constructed a leaf skirt out of real elephant ear leaves and ferns (sewn onto bias tape and tied around her waste). We made a head wreath out of elephant ear flowers and ivy leaves from the plant we gave to each of our wedding guests 9 years ago. (I wonder if any of the others have lived this long?!)
All of the girls danced so heart felt and beautifully it made me cry.

She was SO nervous to perform but absolutely loved it (I told her to pretend it was just her own family in the audience and she said it worked) and was just shining with joy at the end of it.

Thank you for this, Andrea! What special special memories!

One lovely spring day...

2008-05-27T21:37:00.021-07:00

Come for a lovely walk with us through our gardens...

our crabapple tree has never had more blooms on it

fiddlehead ferns (new this year from generous friend) how did we ever live without thee?
little gnomes in the secret garden

little fairies in disguise, hanging like bats to fool us

a primrose from my Grannie's collection, a favourite

red tulips, wet with dew, how sensuous thou art!

tree hugging, a favourite sport

eonymous (?), another new favourite this year, brilliant lemon yellow...

lilacs, all our very most favourite

an upside down wheelbarrow gathering flower petals to adorn itself

grape hyacinths forever remind me of my mum

and lilacs remind me of my dad and my aunt

a rescued (and pronounced dead) rhododenron actually bloomed this year!

and our lovely apple tree which grows with its arms around the treehouse...

Mothering Day

2008-05-13T09:55:00.006-07:00

I think I need to make a distinction between being honoured for being a mother and being honoured for mothering. Big difference, isn't there? Our culture does a lovely job of loving our mothers on Mother's Day.

Based on consumer purchases of fresh flowers and plants for holidays at all outlets:
Mother's day ranks 2nd, with 24% in dollar volume of all transactions for the year (after Christmas).

So mothers are getting flowers and cards declaring love and everlasting gratitude. Many are getting meals prepared for them and possibly their house cleaned on this special day! I think it's wonderful. Any chance to honour our mums (and dads!) is big in my books.

But what about mothering in our culture the other 355 days of the year? Do you think that all is well? We're all one, right? Whatever befalls one of us befalls every one of us? We can make sure we're raising our sons and daughters to honour mothering in our own homes, and that's a good start. Being part of a larger community or tribe that does the same is even better. But is it enough? Do you think that any of us can in any way not be affected by the larger culture around us? And what about when your children choose spouses? Well, accept for mine, I'm not worried as I'm going the arranged-marriage route ;o)

I don't know. I really think that change begins in our own homes, but that we are all mothers to all children everywhere. And personally being with my mil on Sunday was a huge wake-up call for me. It's subtle, isn't it? To me that's what's insidious about it. There was nothing on Sunday that made it rational to jump up and yell out about it. And you know me, so you can be assured I was not silently brooding about it! I was speaking up. In fact I suggested that the husband (who forgets his wife's birthday every year) ask his mother to remind him each year. She's not an accountant! I got strange looks over that one. It's the eager, interested questions about how busy the men are at work, what's happening, what events are upcoming. No questions about what's going on with the mothers and kids, and when someone mentions something there being no interest, no empathy for what's tiring, the suck-it-up message when its mentioned how long the days are with the men working long hours... It's subtle, that's just it: This thing in our culture that values money and status far above parenting. On Sunday I got it on a soul level that I need to make a stronger stand for the honouring of parenting and especially mothering on this planet. Annika has a poster that says "I am in the world to change the world." Maybe it should be in my room instead.

Ani DiFranco is on the cover (and feature article) in Mothering magazine this month. She says the day she gave birth to her daughter she was reborn a feminist. Talking about the work of mothering she says "It's hard to recognize, because men's work has such extravagant evidence -- skyscrapers, for instance -- while much of women's work just makes the world quietly turn."

And as an aside, I'm wondering if there's any different sense about all this depending on whether or not you have a daughter. I got two phonecalls from mothers of daughters on Monday morning, both feeling the same urgency to turn things around in our culture. Along with a couple emails from mothers of sons wondering if I'm okay. I wonder if there's something to that. What do you think?

The State of Motherhood... (rant)

2008-05-12T06:09:00.007-07:00

It seems of all the species of mammals left living on the earth, modern-day humans are the only ones who do not truly honour motherhood. Wild animals choose their mates based on traits conducive to parenting. And it's not just a trait lost with wildness -- I've been looking into buying sheep, and so of course the sheep-owners are telling me how 'milky' their ewes are, what good mothers they've been, and how protective and gentle the fathers are.
Yesterday was Mother's Day. Quite the event, huh? Parades and medals given out, the front cover of all the papers splashed with mothers who are particularly 'milky' and gentle and patient with their young... Every year it blows me away to see how much the culture I live in honours mothers and mothering. Wow.
Not. Yet I felt honoured. My children cuddled in with me with handmade cards and kisses and professions of deep, true love. They erected a sundial in honour of the day down by the newly dug pond, and I felt honoured. But then we left the property. Big mistake. Dinner at my inlaws was wieners 'because it was easy'. The menfolk stood, beer in hand, watching the highlights of some golf tournament and then some hockey game while the women tended the children and got the food on the table. There was a sweet little "cheers to mums" before we ate, and then the men debated the price of gas and the state of the economy and whether or not real estate prices are going to recover and blah blah blah. I tuned out. I was thinking about the state of motherhood. We ate, we presented gifts to Grandma (mil) who loudly protested that she was not to be given any gifts or cards. And it hit me, that she was the one setting all this up. It was her idea to "keep it simple", her idea to keep the honour out of the day. Because she's never felt much honour in mothering, she can't allow us to either. She's always telling us how important the men's work is, that we shouldn't complain when they come home late, tired, drained, with nothing to offer us as women and mothers. They're working HARD! She's always glorifying what they do as SO important -- and the more money people make, the more she respects and admires them. Not just men. Women too. She's all for equal rights. We were regaled with a story of a young mum we all know whose husband didn't remember her birthday on May 1st. She and this mum's mother both agreed that she should not expect or even hope her husband remembers her birthday because he's an accountant! He's just come through a very important time -- what is her birthday really in the whole scheme of things? I felt sad. Sad for this mum. Sad for my mother-in-law. Sad for my children hearing this story. Sad for the whole world because we are so completely f#@%ed up.
It's not just my mil. Somewhere along the way of gaining equal rights, we threw the baby out with the bathwater. Really. And I know it isn't like this everywhere. I know there are small pockets of human beings who are working hard to change this. I even know some of them and feel grateful to have their hopeful presence in my life. But for the most part, this is what we have come to expect. Mothering is a martyr job. It's hard, it takes everything out of us, it's joyous, it's the most incredible thing we'll ever do. But nobody truly deeply authentically honours the job but our own small children. {Some of us are coming around to it, including me. But we weren't raised that way. We weren't cultured that way. It's a struggle to really LIVE what we KNOW in our heads. To really feel in our hearts the honour that our jobs deserve, isn't it? When you're really honest about it?} As our own little adorers grow up they're cultured to hold it in disdain, to despise their mothers and everything they say and do and wear. A friend received a letter last weekend from her 14 year old daughter, thanking her for being her mum. She said she didn't feel she fit in at school or with any of her friends because they all hate their mothers and she couldn't relate. She thinks she's weird because she adores her mother. How many of you just read that and thought "she'll grow out of that soon enough"? We are cultured to hate our mothers. And we are cultured to think this is "normal".
It's not. It's just our screwed up culture. We are born in total worship of motherhood. Our first few years we think there is no one more important or incredible than mothers. For thousands of years this was our culture. From birth through to death. The birthing mother earth was our goddess, and women were revered. Children were cared for. That was the most important thing we could do.
But then through a series of very messy events, the economy replaced the goddess. So completely that we grow up knowing, now, that if we want to do something really important we'll get a high-flying career in law or accounting or medicine or business. Why? Because you make lots of money. Plain and simple. And the more land you clear and the more houses you build and the more roads you make and the fancier the cars you drive and the more stuff you can buy, well, the more important you obviously are. If you're an entrepreneur you get all sorts of tax breaks. As a mother? Not so much. You can't write off meals, you can't write off trips, you can't write off anything. Because you're not contributing to the economy. And if you're not contributing to the economy, then sorry, hon, but you're just not important in this culture.
And we're just starting to see (some of us, some of us not as was evident at the dinner table last night) that this worship of the economy is what has our planet headed for complete destruction. WHAT IF more people than not (tipping point) woke up this morning and could see that the most important thing we can do is raise our children to be hopeful, caring, happy, compassionate, earth-loving people? What if more people than not refused to work at anything another single day that wasn't supportive of the future of their children? Would more of us stay home with our children and grandchildren and take them for a walk in the woods? Would the malls be empty today? Would the manufacturing plants be too empty to grind out any more useless STUFf today? Would our economy grind to a screeching (GASP!) halt? The world as we know it would END! Wouldn't it?! All the doomsday cults would be RIGHT! The WORLD WOULD END. As we know it.
And then we could begin again. Would we take the time to show our children how to grow their own food and pick up some garbage and teach them how to share this planet with the animals and birds and plants and oceans? We could teach them how we must live in order to survive! And then would we place more priority on actually THRIVING with them? Now? Instead of waiting until we have enough money that we can relax....
Why am I up at 5 this morning writing all this? Because my husband was flopping around in bed like a fish out of water. Why? Because he has an important day today. The BIG boss is coming. The one who actually OWNS everything. That's big stuff, no?
I think about all the women this morning who are getting ready for something important today. Who maybe weren't totally present over the weekend because their minds were still partly engrossed with work. And I don't wonder why more women don't choose to stay home with their small children. Why would they? It's not important in our culture! Oh! Sure! We SAY it is. We say (come on now, say it with me) "mothering is the most important job you could ever do". I hear that over and over when I tell people what I do for a living. We SAY it is, but our culture says it isn't. Mothering can be done in an hour or two a day, can't it? We pay someone to take care of our children. "They're kids! They grow up whether we're there or not. They'll be fine! Look at me! My mother didn't stay home with me and I'm fine!" Don't you read that in our culture all the time? On TV and in movies, and magazines and on the news and just everywhere? Daycare, that's what our Prime Minister talks about whenever we talk about children. We MUST get better funding for daycare. Not to mention that daycare workers are some of the least paid in our society. Nobody talks about changing that -- we just need MORE daycares.
It's not all doom and gloom, I know. My husband is actually really strongly bonded to our children. He rarely works on weekends. He's there to really BE with them most nights before they go to bed. We even have dinner together most evenings. He at least acknowledges that what he's doing right now isn't sustainable. He can't work this many hours, be this drained, be this all-consumed-by-work forever. At some point it will slow down and he will be more present with us. And at least we manage to get him truly grounded and present by the end of most weekends. And there are those holidays (is it 3 weeks a year now? maybe even 4. 4 out of 52, not bad, hey?) where he's so present that we at least all remember what it's like, AND that it really is possible. And hey! He makes lots of money AND his mother is proud of him! So someday we can retire and enjoy our children together. Or grandchildren as it will be.
Will my children grow up any differently? By the time we're all "ready" to be really present with each other and make each other a priority will they be off into the ratrace and have no time for us? Will Annika embrace motherhood and feel it's the most important thing she will ever do? Will Pedar feel that raising his children to be happy, hopeful, caring, compassionate people is the most important thing he could ever do? Will they LIVE that way?
I wish I could answer that with a resounding YES! But I can't. I'm hopeful. I am. But our culture is so strong. And there's just me, their mother, in their lives who sees it all this way...
I remember one of my good friends telling me a story about a father who every Friday night gave a big talk to his children about how important their mother was (was it you J? or Tab? if it was someone reading this, could you type it into the comments? I really need to hear that story again). He'd say that what he had done all week paled in importance to what she'd done. Those kids grew up honouring motherhood. Living it. Not just thinking or say it, but LIVING it. And I'll bet that man had one of the best lives of anyone alive. That mother would've felt validated and really SEEN, filled up and able and willing to pour back into him her gratitude.
What about you? Are you LIVING that motherhood is honourable? Are there any speeches at your table on Friday nights to help put the screwey ideas of our culture into perspective for your children? What is the state of motherhood in your world?

Happy Mother's Day!!!

2008-05-11T09:22:00.014-07:00

It's the little things that have me bursting with joy at this whole motherhood thing...

Cuddling in bed for an hour together every morning telling our dreams and planning our day,

The handmade cards and pictures and fistfuls of dandelions brought to me with glowing faces,

The way they run into my arms full of joy when we've been separated for less than an hour,

The sparkle in their eye and the joy in their voices when they're excited about something,

The sound of their contagious giggles,

The feel of their soft skin,

The way they reach up and take my hand in theirs,

The way they still crumple into my arms without thought or invitation for no reason at all,

The way they inspect my rough gardener's hands, tracing the outline of my fingers with theirs,

Our long laughter-filled candlelit baths together,

The smell of their sweat and the taste of their tears,

That my kisses and cuddles still cure cuts and bruises and hard falls,

That tears spring to my eyes from the bursting of my heart from so much love and joy at the priviledge of motherhood...

And I can still feel my own mother's hands in mine. They were rough and old looking, just like mine. I can still hear her contagious laughter, see the tears in her eyes from her bursting with love and joy for me...

Letter to my brother...

2008-05-06T21:28:00.002-07:00

Hello you two,
I was going to call you all day, starting from last night! I've been thinking about you so much, but just wasn't sure what I'd say... Every year I call, and every year I cry, and every year I wonder if my calls were harder on you. I didn't mean to let the day pass without picking up the phone, but I know you're in bed now, so I will resort to this method. I hope you don't mind.
Eight years now. What a different day it would have been for you, celebrating your sweet girl's 18th birthday. I can hardly imagine. But I feel like I can just get a glimpse of what she would've been like -- blonde and beautiful and gracious with her easy laugh and way of making everyone feel special... what a vision.
I make May 6th my sort of New Year in mothering every year. I think about it a lot on Tyler's birthday too, but somehow it comes home more on May 6th -- I reassess what I'm doing with my kids. I try to imagine what I'd do differently if I knew my kids wouldn't live past 10 and 12. And it helps me slow down just a little more and enjoy them more, take more breaks cuddling in the hammock, it gives me just a little more patience letting them tie their own shoes and comb their own hair and buckle their own seatbelts even when we're running late...
You couldn't have known you'd have such a short time with your gorgeous kids. But I can let their lives be an inspiration to me with mine. I can allow their sweet lives to be shining stars in my journey with my children, lighting the path to embracing every moment, finding a way to live with no regrets no matter what the future holds...
I'm grateful for Silka and Tyler's lives and I'm SO grateful for your presence in mine. I hope all the rose bushes I've given you in the last 8 years bloom in profusion this year. I wish you happy memories and sweet joys and hearts filled with gratitude for each other.
I love you,
mary-sue

Morning Treasures

2008-05-04T09:05:00.004-07:00

Every morning we get to have the most beautiful egg hunt! Aren't these lovely? The green ones come from our Ameracauna hens, as do the pink ones. The large dark brown ones come from our old Red Sussex hens, and these tiny dark ones we have no idea where they're coming from. Two in one day and these are the first we're seeing of them. Now it's a mystery to sort out whose eggs they are. They're the size and weight of a quail egg! But not the right colour. Any ideas out there?

Yellow Spring

2008-05-02T15:40:00.007-07:00

Our garden is going through a "yellow phase" just now. I can't think of a colour that's more cheery, and we need it with the cold spring we've been enduring! Here are a few of our yellow specimens...

Lovely violas,
oodles of daff's (you can see the red stage about ready to pop)

forsythia bushes just loaded this year
and he's not yellow, but isn't he a jolly good looking rooster?

that's Edgar (part Raven, part Ameracauna ;o)

Happy Happy Spring!

The Shelter of Each Other

2008-04-22T21:38:00.006-07:00

I LOVED

and highly recommend it. Here are some of my favourite quotes from this wonderful book:
"Strong families have a knack for optimism, for taking long views and a "big picture" perspective. Hope is strong. They acknowledge problems and deal with them. They work through disagreements quickly and kindly and then return to a calm, peaceful state. Unhappy families do the opposite: they savour and nurse their pain and blow up small disagreements into battles. They build skyscrapers of pain on the meringues of small miseries."

oooh. isn't that just too painfully true?

Here's another doozy:
"Healthy people acknowledge pain, accept it and talk about it. Extracting meaning from pain ennobles and heals. Properly attended, pain makes people more tolerant, empathic and emotionally complex."
Such a good reminder when my children experience pain and every cell of my being wants to protect them from it!

I love this one:
"The metaphors of food, places, trips, beloved objects and beloved people become the connecting tissue of the family. They give family members' lives a context and meaning, a history and philosophy. The protective walls of a family are made of love, not stone."

This book has really cemented the importance of extended blood and chosen family for me. It's been so affirming and encouraging for me. And it's lit many fires under me. Like this one:
"We can act if we believe we can act. We can build new good things. The cure for cynicism, depression and narcissism is social action. Action solves two problems. It makes communities better and it gives people a sense of meaning and purpose. Volunteers are happy people. Work cures despair! and remember "Most of the good work in the world is done by people who weren't feeling all that well the day they did it." - Eleanor Roosevelt. Just because a person can't do everything doesn't mean he or she should do nothing."

And this quote resonated within me more than any other and is a topic I've been pondering a great deal lately:
"In the wilderness there is connection and complexity, challenge and serenity. In most of us there is a deep hunger for contact with the natural world. Everywhre people love to garden, to work with soil, to touch plants and make things grow. Gardening is healing. It's being involved with an old, old tradition, one that has always gone far beyond the practical need to grow food."
I've been really deeply noticing on a more microscopic level just lately how profoundly each of my children and myself NEED to be in nature. When we're not getting along, arguing, getting on each others' nerves (including our own) the cure is ALWAYS to go outside. Even just a few minutes outdoors, communing with the chickens, pulling a few weeds, or walking under the trees and all is right again with the world. We generally spend most of our time outdoors anyway, but on the days when we get into an inside project, sometimes we forget that we don't just need to ear and pee in the morning, we need to get outside just as much.
I'm reading a book to Annika right now that demonstrates this healing better than any thing else I've ever read:There are so many versions of this beautiful old novel, but the illustrations by Inga Moore in this one are pure magic. A horrid little girl that nobody can love spends time outdoors every day and is magically transformed. Sounds like a fairy tale but is really just a really good "how to parent" book written in beautiful language with beautiful pictures.

Pedar's Birthday

2008-04-21T15:14:00.018-07:00

Time to do a bit of catch-up.
Pedar's birthday was one of the sweetest weekends all year! He was absolutely delighted with every moment and I wanted to get some photos of the events here because both kids love looking at photos of themselves and their special events on my blog!

Each year on Pedar's birthday we take the city bus downtown to the candy store. It's the only day of the year the kids go to this sweet shoppe, and it's quite an event! This year they chose swirly pops, yum yum!

We had a special lunch downtown and stopped at Surplus Herby's where daddy bought Pedar a fishing rod. One of the first things Pedar said on his birthday was "Daddy! You forgot to buy me a big boy fishing rod!" Beware the promises you make a wee boy in the heat of the previous summer!

The only other thing Pedar had asked for was a "rocket." He and his sister had hours of fun with his new "stomp" rocket. They can really make it fly!

The next day we invited Pedar's in-town cousins
over for an egg hunt to celebrate Spring and Eostar.

It's one of our funnest days every year. Annika was one of the bunny helpers this year and she found some beautiful spots to hide the eggs!

Pedar loved his rocket-cake (made from using 2 coffee tins as cake pans) and his favourite gift of all was these new "work pants" just like daddy's, from his Gma and Gpa. Too cute!

Then his big sister taught him how to ride a pedal-bike. It took one try and he was off. He's hardly been off his bike since... Learning to balance on his like-a-bike made all the difference.

Happy Birthday big 4 year old! I sure do love you!

'Farming' Rollercoaster

2008-04-21T14:47:00.006-07:00

We have had the honour of looking after Andrea's newly purchased Ameracauna and Buff Orpington chicks for one week. Here's where Annika is nearly all the time:

Crooning lullabies as she rocks the chicks one a time on her lap. Her favourite (shown here) she's named PP and should grow up to the be the calmest, friendliest chicken there ever was!

Pedar loves them too, but he's not quite as maternal as his big sister.

We've had the heartache of having one of the Ameracaunas that wasn't thriving expire on us overnight. My kids are pretty hearty farm kids and while we were all sad, they handled it really well.

We also had a crazy heart-wrenching experience with a little "miracle" BP chick. Pedar had been cuddling it when his sister happened upon him and he must have thought she was going to get after him because he quickly hid it behind his back. She made him show her what he had and took it from him (he knows we want him to cuddle to his heart's desire but only when we're with him). With all the frantic crying I came upon the scene to find a "dead" chick in the playpen. Annika filled me in on what happened and soon we were all crying. I just couldn't let this little chick die and have my sweet boy feel responsible -- so I did all I could to revive it. I put a couple drops of water in its beak, but it didn't respond. I massaged its whole body for about 10 minutes trying to do my best healing touch, but it was still completely limp and barely breathing in my hand. I finally gave up and laid it under the heat lamp to die. Half an hour later I went back down and couldn't find it! I counted the brood about 5 times, each time coming up with 28, the full count! How could this be? A miracle, to be sure. We had a big celebration and still feel tremendous relief that sweet gentle Pedar doesn't have the accidental death of a wee chick on his mind.

Boycotting Bad Behaviour

2008-04-16T15:20:00.004-07:00

There is so much talk in the news just now of China's horrendous human rights records, of Tibet's desperate attempt for self-rule, and ultimately the conversations point at a call for boycotting the olympics.

I think that if we want to get a message across to China that we want them to consider doing things differently, we need to be willing to take some responsibility OURSELVES. Why ask athletes to give up their jobs so that we can send a message? Why not send the message ourselves? It's a huge challenge, but how about we ALL STOP BUYING ANYTHING MADE IN CHINA. It means giving up things that we think we need. It means paying more for nearly everything. But for me it means peace of mind and a sense of contribution.

Today I'm giving away my wedding-present-Sunbeam-made-in-China kettle (which is plastic and who loves the idea of drinking water that's been boiled in plastic anyway? yech!) in favour of my mum's old stainless steel made-in-the-USA-stovetop-kettle. It's been down at the trailer and irretrievable until now that the road has dried up, and I'm thrilled to have it back in its rightful place!

p.s. if you need motivation to stop buying m-i-C, watch "Manufactured Landscapes", likely available at your local library or "Mardi Gras, Made In China" or many other equally compelling documentaries about the horrors WE are causing in China by buying the cheap, crappy, polluting stuff they make only for us and would never consider using themselves.

Love in the oven...

2008-04-16T15:11:00.003-07:00

One of my favourite things to make just for the pure joy of making it, as well as for the pleasure of feeding it to be people is cinnamon buns. I started the dough out this morning with the intention of making bread, but as it was rising we walked to the mailbox and ran into 3 of our neighbours, all older men, all eager to visit and have a little company. Their wives are either away just now or uninterested in being outside working with them and my heart squeezed for each of them. Why is it that too often people seem to grow apart and don't enjoy doing the same sorts of things in their old age? These men were all out working in their yards -- putting up new fences, planting new bushes, pulling out weeds... and their passion for the earth and being outdoors was palpable and so was their loneliness. Maybe it doesn't matter in the big scheme of things -- maybe they have lots of other things in common with their wives that they aren't lonely in all aspects of their lives.. I hope so.

And I hope that Brent and I always enjoy working and playing together...

In the meantime, Annika and Pedar have offered to take each of these men a little package of love in the form of cinnamon, flour and sugar... and so we have an extra large batch of cinnamon buns in the oven and the bread will have to wait for another day.

Postscript: I am humbled and amazed at the effect our cinnamon bun offerings have had in our little "community"! My children set off with such happy hearts to deliver these little love gifts, and returned absolutely high on appreciation and affection. And I received one huge hug from one neighbour, a tearful phone call from another and a moving email from the third. Each was so moved by our tiny offering! We must share ourselves more often!!!

Karma

2008-02-22T10:52:00.002-08:00

I haven't been very good at communicating lately with anyone, I'm afraid. I'm not really sure why, but thought I'd try to put a post here to help me figure it out for myself. I think I tend to not want to be the drama-friend who's always bringing everyone down, you know? But I also don't want to pretend anything is different than it is -- and I'm having a hard time balancing those two needs.
I have to admit that this morning I started to wonder if I've done something that I need to "put right" in order to 'fix' my karma.
My hairdresser was telling me that she had wished harm to her ex a few weeks ago and within a week his father died, his child got very ill, and he started losing his hair. She sought help from a psychic to try to remove any spell she had put on him!
And so it occurred to me this morning that if anyone has wished harm on me, I hope they'll reverse their spell too...
if only it were as easy as all that...
Someone asked me the other day when I felt all this "bad luck" started. I haven't thought of it as bad luck, but it did give me pause for thought... It seems it all started in the Autumn. I felt pretty awful with iron and thyroid deficiencies which wreaked havoc on my hormones and health in general. But I seemed to get that all sorted out only to find that I'm pregnant! a big surprise turned very exciting. I felt so awful in the beginning I could hardly cope. Annika's tummy issues peaked and we treated her for blastocystis hominis which was just awful and very scarey. We all got very sick over Christmas with a stomach virus that we thought we were going to expire with. My Grandma died, which is what she and I both needed her to do, but that definitely took a lot out of me. I broke my ankle and had to have surgery and the healing part is challenging me more than I thought it would... And today Pedar woke up crying from pain and could hardly walk. He has blisters all over his hands and feet and up his legs, which I think is Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease. Both my kids have had it before and I thought it was a one-shot deal, but apparently not.
So! I hesitate to answer the phone these days. People call and say "So? How is everything today?" And I'm afraid today I'd just burst into tears.
Of course it could be worse. These problems, in comparison to most of the people in the world, are tedious and petty and miniscule. But I am not in a position to compare to anyone else just now, and to me it's about all I can take.
Don't get me wrong, there have been more upsides to all this than down:
***Most notably, the amazing friendship shown to me by true and beautiful friends. It has been a lesson in gratitude just in itself that so many people have stopped by with food and offers to help with laundry and sweep my floor and play with my children. I honestly don't think I knew the meaning of community and friendship until these past few weeks. My heart has been continually refilled by my friends, my spirits continually uplifted.
***I saw my first robin today! Just now, actually, as I was typing this post. It came close to the window where I'm laying on the couch -- and probably sang a song or two! I look for them every year, the harbinger of spring, for me, my reminder of renewal and hope.
***The sun has been shining and the other day when a dear friend came over to take over my duties for most of a day, I sat in the sunshine on the deck while the warmth and light restored my soul.
***My husband has happily taken over all meal duties (my friends have cooked but he has served and washed up) and bedtime rituals with the kids.
***My kids have been an amazing help, carrying food to the table (you can't carry a single thing when you're in crutches! not even your own cup of tea!), dishes back to the kitchen, laundry to the washer, clothes to the hanging rack, books to my side, etc. Annika's even learned how to carry a full pot of hot tea to the table AND pour it herself! They're sweeping the floor, tidying up, watering the plants, bringing in firewood...
***Despite the trauma, the momma-worry, and the chemical-cocktails, baby's heartbeat is strong and movment has resumed!
My lessons? The biggest is that I actually don't need or even want to do everything myself anymore. That I am surrounded by people who care and love me. That I can handle more challenges than I thought I could.
But in a petty and small way, I have to admit that I'm looking forward to a turn of the tides... I hope I don't have to wait until next February -- I'm a rooster in a Rat year. And apparently this isn't such a good thing. The only advice I've found is to live much more simply. Which is something I'm always striving to do...
But, by chance, if you HAVE put just the teeniest spell on me? DO find out how to reverse it, will you? thanks so much.

Happy Love's Day!

2008-02-14T11:44:00.005-08:00

I LOVE Valentine's Day. Always have. Is it too commercialized these days? Of course! But honestly, what isn't? Food, Love, Interiors... anything you can think of, it's too commercialized these days. LIFE is too commercialized if you let it be. But you can choose to celebrate these sweet days in your own way. That's what we're doing. That's the Valentine my sweet little A handed me this morning. And the mug is from a dear dear friend... It's a beautiful morning and we're heading outside to celebrate LIFE! (Well, me perched on the front stoop whilst my chilluns run around in the mud!)

These are the little goody boxes I made for each of the kids. I made the boxes out of a 1997 Mary Engelbreit calendar I happened to have saved... And the goodies inside? gold butterscotch and red candyhearts... mmmmm... the stuff of childhood...

Learning to Let Go...

2008-02-11T17:47:00.001-08:00

So, as I sit on the couch hour after hour, day after day, with my left leg propped up towards the sky, I am forced for the first time in my life to LET GO of control in my household and LET OTHERS HELP ME! I can't even get my own glass of water for goodness sake! The first day I had trouble getting to the toilet!!!
Last week I'd been pondering self-nurture techniques and why I have so few in place. I was journaling, brainstorming, processing ways to improve this part of my life...
and then WHAM!!!
a lot of powder + a distracted mama on skis = spinal anesthetic + metal plate and 4 screws
But what it REALLY EQUALS is this mama getting plenty of self-nuture time and nobody even bothering to ASK if she needs more help -- just GIVING IT!!! whodathunkit possible?!
The best part? eating other people's cooking :o)
The worst part? trying to manage pain without any meds that would hurt babe#3 :o(
5 weeks in a cast. Think I'll hang onto the important lessons after it's all over?
One can hope. One can hope.

New Beginnings

2008-01-23T11:12:00.000-08:00

My little artist's rendition of the two big beginnings around here:

Grandma's new body, new wings, and the sun always shines...
And this'll be me in 6 more months...
HIP HIP HOORAY!!!

Sweet Release

2008-01-06T17:23:00.000-08:00

I don't remember when I started believing that when a person died they got to "put on" the sunset that night for their own friends and family. Well, Thank you Grandma, for a beautiful sunset tonight...

And thank you all SO much for your prayers and lit candles. I was overwhelmed by your emails and calls. She soared up into the sky at 2:25 this afternoon. It was more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.

I've been feeling her spirit visiting me in my sleep, and each time I've visited her in the last few days she hasn't been responding to anything I've said so I knew it was only that silver cord that was keeping her bound to earth. I knew the cord would be broken very soon...

I crawled into bed with her around noon today and sang to her for awhile. I kept singing while I braided her hair and washed her face and hands. Family started arriving shortly after 1:30, I think. First her daughter came, then some of her grandchildren. I encouraged them all to say a private good-bye to their Grandma, and asked them to sing a hymn to her. The first lot chose #8 and I remembered it from my youth so we all sang heartily along. The last grandaughter to arrive was feeling fear being in the room alone with her as she said her good-bye, so she asked me to join her. I was relieved to be asked back into the room because I was feeling panicy that the cord was about to be broken. J and I did some energy work on Grandma's body and I felt her body go dark. I started singing "Take My Hand Precious Lord" (which I'd been singing to her over and over for a few days at this point) and J joined in. Then Jill and Mary Lou heard us singing and came back into the room and joined in for the last two verses. It was so beautiful. We were sitting around Grandma's bed, holding her hands and her feet and caressing her face. I decided to share the vision I'd had this morning about her funeral. There are some very strong personalities in Grandma's family, and it looked like it was going to be difficult to meet everyone's needs peacefully. I said I thought that we each had to make sure our needs were met in our own grieving, but the spirit in which we planned this next week needed to be done in a way that would be a tribute to Grandma. Grandma had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. It was xceptionally rare that she ever judged anyone, and she just seemed to have room in her big heart for everyone. She had a terrible time with conflicts within her family, and I hoped that we'd be able to get through this next week without conflict. We all agreed, and then Grandma yawned! And then she opened her eyes! And then she yawned again and closed her mouth! And then she was gone...

It was one of the most beautiful moments I've been blessed to be part of.

Good-Bye My DEAR SWEET GRANDMA. I'll never forget you. I'll try my best to keep your beautiful spirit alive in me. I'll do all I can to keep the peace this next week. I'll love you forever. Thank you for being so much to me. Good-bye.

Whispers in the wind...

2008-01-04T17:03:00.000-08:00

(this is not a photo of gma sleeping -- this is how she is all the time now, she was moaning a little and i felt she wanted to sing along with some of the hymns. i hope this isn't too disturbing for some of you. i gasp when i first walk into her room now... it is so hard to see her deteriorating like this!)

The last good visit I had with my matriarch was all about death. She grabbed my hands and she asked me to help her die. She said she felt it was time and she needed my help. I openly cried. Tears pouring down my face not because I'm not ready to let her go, but because of the healing in my heart from having that visit with her. I said good-bye to her, told her how much she means to me, openly crying, shamelessly grieving... It wasn't just her I was talking to. It wasn't just her hands I was caressing and kissing. It wasn't just her hair I was stroking. It wasn't just her eyes I was kissing... It was so healing to have the chance to say okay, you're going to die? I love you and I'll miss you and I'll never forget you... All the things I would've given anything to be able to do and say 7 years ago...

But how do you help someone die? I've been praying to God several times a day to please come and take her home. I've been whispering into the wind to my mum and dad to come and take her hand and help her cross over. I've been talking to the birds and the stars and the clouds and even to my chickens, appealing to the spirits they carry to assist her in letting go... And I have a candle almost constantly lit, sending her my courage and my love.

She hasn't been able to speak since that visit. She can't open her eyes and she can barely swallow a drop of water at a time. She can't form words, but she tried to say my name last night when I went to hold her hand. She's definitely still there, it's evident she's wanting to communicate, but she can't. Last night I fed her her medicine a drop at a time and then some water a drop at a time and as she struggled to swallow, coughing and sputtering, I sang to her. I sang her old favourite hymns, any that I could find that were comforting and encouraging of her letting go.

I talk to God with her into her ear, being her voice as I know her mind is fuzzy. I say "I'm ready, dear God, to come and rest with you. I've lived my life for you, sweet Jesus, and I need your help in crossing over to you. Show me the light that is brighter than than the noonday sun and I will follow you home... Please God, take me home..." And then I leave her with the hymns ringing in her ears and the peace of God in her heart.

I can't do anything else... but sit with her whenever I can get away and make the trek to her bedside. I'm not a singer, and the nurses and aides peek their heads in the door too (!) often, nodding encouragement, tears in their eyes, offering to bring me drinks... Not stiff enough ones though... But I keep my courage up and sing loudly to her because the courage it requires to sing hymns to a deaf woman in the quiet of a nursing home surely pales in comparison to the courage it requires to let go and soar into the sky...

Light a candle for Grandma, if you will. She just needs a few more prayers to let her spirit soar. She thanks you. and loves you. Me too.

And now...

2007-12-21T11:09:00.000-08:00

This big six year old is making snowmen without ANY help...

and she can't decide if she wants to be a ballerina when she grows up...or the next Santa Claus (really!)

And my poor old Grandma's still waiting to fly up with the birds to her next life... Say a little prayer for her journey, won't you?

Our wee girl turns 6!!

2007-12-21T10:56:00.001-08:00

Annika asked me to make her a doll like Pedar's Sweet Pea, so here is Rosalinda.
All Annika wanted was a treasure box with a key, but she was delighted with the contents as well. Her favourite was a little tin with all the supplies for doing handsewing. She's been handsewing ever since...

We had pancakes for supper, the night of her big day.

Before we left for Maui, Annika had made a wish for it to snow the day we got back. It did! She wasted no time in getting out there to make snow angels...

She requested a party up at Silver Star with her family. She made her cake, iced it and decorated it too! There's a butterfly on there and a self portrait (in pink). We sledded and watched a movie. She's really six now. Hard to believe. Seems like just yesterday...

Maui Photo Memories

2007-12-21T09:47:00.001-08:00

We had a wonderful time in Maui. We spent most of our time on the beaches, but lots of time spent in the pool too. Annika got so she could swim across the pool by herself. A big step for her.

We went to a luau, where Annika was SO excited to learn how to do the beautiful dance. She raced up onto the stage when invited.

Good food!

Annika lost her front tooth right before the luau

We loved the strong Goddess culture there.

We couldn't get over the beautiful sunsets

Mermaids on the beach

Big waves at Big Beach

Windsurfers on the North beaches

Fun rental car

Squeals of joy

Schools of fish through the submarine window

We went to 366 feet below sea level

Haleakala volcano thrilled us all

The very south end

Walking through the most recent lava flow

We ate as much fruit as we could hold. The hardest thing about our holiday was all the garbage. Everything is sold in plastic so we tried to stick to fruit from the farmer's markets. It's tough to be earth-friendly when you're not at home!

We rode the Sugar Cane Train, kids were thrilled!

Each evening one of the kids would blow the conch in each of the 4 directions as the sun went down. We loved this ritual!

Annika would take her post up in the plumeria tree to watch the sun dip below the horizon. She was hoping to see the green flash at the instant it set.

Our other favourite pastime was watching the turtles. There were often 6 right there below us, great big Green Sea Turtles, feeding, swimming and surfing. They'd come up for air and look us right in the eye. We were enchanted.

Isn't she beautiful?

It was a better holiday than we could've imagined... the best thing we've done for our family in a long time.

The last evening we ate out to celebrate our strong family bond and our time in paradise...

And it was a full moon! We swam in the pool under the moon every night. Pure magic.

It's Official

2007-12-21T09:45:00.000-08:00

I SUCK at blogging!! I just can't seem to find/make the time to update my blog! We're going to try a new structure/rhythm in the new year in all parts of our lives. If it doesn't work to get me blogging more regularly, I think I'm going to give it up. In the meantime, I'm giving myself a half hour this morning to get some updates on here and then signing off until the new year...

This wooden rooster is taking wing...

2007-11-09T21:26:00.000-08:00

Over the past few days some things have really come together for me. Martifly was telling me about an extraordinary retreat she went to on family relationships. She learned how the ‘flow of love’ works. "It flows like a river….when two parents have a loving relationship, love flows to the children, and so on down the generations. But when a child isn’t filled up, and they think they need to care for the parent, the flow of love dams up." This resonated so strongly within me. I can't remember a time when I didn't feel I needed to care for my parent. And this is just exactly how I feel now, with my own children. When I'm triggered by something they do (the worst for me is when they're fighting with each other), the river of love within me dams up and I over-react with too much anger and have to shut everything down. I know intellectually what this is about and have blogged about it -- I felt I had to keep things peaceful in my nuclear family out of great fear of violence. And I know intellectually that I don't need to fear that now... blah blah blah. But the knowing doesn't always change the doing, you know?
Well, then today I went to see a healer and she told me some amazing things. First, that my own personal dominant element (in Chinese medicine) is wood. Nobody's ever told me that before. This is the element that contains forgiveness, compassion and patience. None of which are my strong suit! She said that she sensed that I'm depleted (I'm really working on my iron levels, but was told it will take about 3 months to bring them up to normal levels) and so I would be experiencing a lack of those things. And how! This makes sense of the strong judgment I feel, as well as the lack of compassion and patience with myself and others. She said that I have to cultivate the wood within me, and until I have enough wood, there won't be a very strong fire (energy, passion, excitement, verve). Doesn't that just make so much sense? Then she did a healing treatment on me with tuning forks calibrated to "om" and I had the most amazing visions during the hour she treated me. I saw myself sitting at the feet of Ghandi and Amma. I saw myself doing sun salutations on a beach and then sitting and meditating in the early morning sun. I saw my face soften and I kept seeing the flow of my love building momentum. I kept seeing swirls and little houses built on sticks (and I don't know what that means except that when I lived in Malaysia I lived right on the ocean and was surrounded by houses built on sticks? maybe it went along with the visions of the ocean and the swirls?) I saw myself awaking morning after morning, greeting my children, doing a sun salutation, and then sitting in the sun to meditate. I saw my vision for myself -- one of calm and slowness and deliberateness and presence manifesting in my life. When I awoke from the treatment I had a profound feeling of peace and calmness and gratitude and hopefulness.
And now we're off to the ocean! Brent is in between jobs so we're taking these precious two weeks to just BE together as a family and to fill ourselves up! There's sure to be morning meditations and sun salutations on the beach... We'll be in Maui until the 26th. Aren't we blessed?! Ommmmmmm
p.s. My chinese zodiac sign is the rooster. So now I know I'm a wooden rooster!

I Make Requests Rather Than Complain...

2007-11-05T16:24:00.000-08:00

I've taken on this challenge, which I learned about from my all-time, always-inspiring, favourite blog, 37 Days. And oh.my.godess. It is the hardest thing I've ever taken on. (and that is a statement, NOT a complaint!) No, make that impossible (okay, there, now I start over again)WHICH I'm turning into I'mpossible...one no-complaints second at a time. I'm on Day 1 of Day 4. I think the longest I've gone so far is 5 hours. My goal is 37 days. he he he
It's changing me in ways I never anticipated. I'm seeing myself, my thoughts, my reality in a whole new light. Check it out and let me know what you think. More on that later...

History

2007-11-05T16:16:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. You believe what you believe and no book ever written will change that....

Okay, but what if I could guarantee you that your relationship with Christ would be DEEPENED by reading this book? Truly! If there was information out there that could radically deepen your faith in God, wouldn't you want to know what it is? Well this is where it is: "The Pagan Christ" written by an ANGLICAN PRIEST, Tom Harpur.

You're judging this book by its cover. It's title. Take a second and look at your cover. your title. Would it be fair for me to judge you by your cover? What would I say? "Oh, I'm not going to listen to her, she's ____ and _____ and _____! Just look at her!" Ridiculous, right? Nobody can tell who you REALLY are by glancing at your cover and reading your title. Of course not. Okay, so what meaning are you placing on the title? What have you decided the book is about? Are you willing to let go of all that and give this amazing 193 pages a chance? What if it's the best thing you've ever done for yourself? I could go on and on. But you're probably getting the gist that I really want you to read this book, right? Oh good! Then we're on the same page...

I can absolutely promise you one thing: that you will not be sorry you gave this book a chance. The information in this book is history (and herstory, btw) that misguided men have tried very hard to eradicate from the earth. This information, this HISTORY, if widely known would end wars and hostility and separateness and "us" vs. "them" mentality for good.

Chicken Love

2007-11-05T15:44:00.000-08:00

We've been blessed with the cutest little chicks there ever were. Annika and Pedar adore them and spend countless hours "caring" for them. Annika built this little stable by herself out of old cedar shingles, filled it with straw, carefull placed chicken wire around it to keep the babies safe and transports the chicks to the stable where she and Pedar feed them out of their hands. This little chick in her sweater is called "Bella" (yes, named after her adorable cousin) and is her favourite.

He He He

2007-11-05T15:39:00.000-08:00

Can you keep up? I can't!!!

Samhain

2007-11-05T13:42:00.000-08:00

We had a spooky filled-with-fun day on Halloween. Lots of scarey masks (to scare off the people who might try to prevent us from performing our rituals), telephone calls from our friends afar who were celebrating Samhain in their own way, lots of sweet treats (to celebrate the New Year), a big bonfire (The word 'bonfire', or 'bonefire' is a direct translation of the Gaelic tine cnámh. With the bonfire ablaze, the villagers extinguished all other fires. Each family then solemnly lit its hearth from the common flame, thus bonding the families of the village together) shared with friends, and pine needles woven into circles and then cast into the fire with a wish for the new year. We ended the day trick or treating (have you read "The Pagan Christ" by Tom Harpur yet? no reason to be anti-pagan. It's like saying you're anti-human. We are aLLLLLLLL pagan, people. Don't be anti-history! prove me wrong! really! do! READ THE BOOK and then prove me wrong. please.), eating delicious pumpkin pie (made by moi, the best EVAH!) and watching fireworks. Happy New Year!

Dinner for the Dead

2007-11-05T13:21:00.000-08:00

The night before Samhain we had our annual ancestoral dinner. It was a very special time for all of us. We set the table for 4 extras and invited my mum and dad, my Grannie, and Brent's Grandpa, in a circular ceremony around a candle. We brought out photos of them all as well as special heirlooms we have from each of them. I have some old perfume ('Oscar') of my mum's and Annika and I wore a bit of it. We used our best china, our REAL silver (an heirloom from my mum), and when we said our blessing before the meal we held hands with our guests, who were seated between each of us 'living' folk. We told our favourite stories about each of our guests and it was really hilarious. (Aside: the night before we were watching "The Wizard of Oz" as a family and Annika suddenly turned to me and said "Who is Dorothy Anne, mum?" I got goosebumps. She shouldn't know that was my mum's full name.)
Pedar was a wee bit confused, asking frequently "are they here, mummy?" And then running to the door when I said yes. We explained to him that they're always here, always with us, but they're even MORE 'here' when we invite them special and tell stories about them. He seemed to get that...
We talked about what we want to let go of and what we each want more of this next year. And earlier in the day with very special friends we did some releasing from the year. We lit a fire in the very sacred circle of cedars down by the creek and we burned 'old stories' that we no longer want to hold onto or have as part of our lives in this new year.
I have to say, it was the very most special New Year's Eve for all of us.

Superfun Pumpkin Day

2007-11-05T12:34:00.000-08:00

These are photos from our annual pilgrimage to the pumpkin patch at our local orchard. Brent took the kids this year and I joined them later. The train is pulled by a tractor and the cars are made out of old apple boxes. Usually there is much frolicking and pumpkin loving in the patch, but this year it was too wet so the train just went past the patch and kept on going. The choosing occurred amongst the avalanche of pumpkins and pumpkin headed folk near the buildings. Such fun!

What About You

2007-11-04T21:53:00.000-08:00

Beautiful!

Anyone want to order with me?

2007-10-24T20:38:00.000-07:00

I have a bag similar to this that I use every time I buy something and I've been looking for more of them. I have plenty of other bags that I've made from t-shirts or have been given by talented sewers, but this little one that sits so small and unobtrusive in my bag is my favourite. Sometimes it's the only one I remember to take with me and I've had to dump it out in my car so I could use it again! I'm going to order a couple more. Anyone want to join orders with me? Looks like they're about $12 with shipping. I've had mine a few years, it's been used hundreds of times, I've thrown it in the laundry many times and it still works like a charm. Let me know if you want to order with me.

I Love This

2007-10-24T20:35:00.000-07:00

A very happy Grannie Day...

2007-10-18T09:56:00.000-07:00

This is my favourite photo of my mum and I. She adored chickens and set everyone she could up with broody hens and a roosters! Here we were going to her brother's house for a birthday party and this was her present!

It's her birthday today and "Grannie Day" on October 18th is one of our most festive days of the year. My children look forward to it all year long! Me too! Annika ran around gathering photos of Grannie this morning and they'll be getting surprise presents throughout the day. My mum had a wonderful sense of humour and LOVED dressing up and scaring people. One of my earliest memories of her is coming to the door of our house in Calgary with a scarey mask on and tricking me! Another time she came back from overseas wearing a rasta (dreadlocks) wig and tie-dye outfit and huge sunglasses -- in perfect disguise and I didn't recongize her at the airport! She LOVED to laugh and make other people laugh and play tricks. When I picture her in my mind she is laughing with her entire face and body. So most of our surprises today are masks and silly hats, with a big scarey jumping spider and whoopie cushion thrown in for good measure.

Aaah, the memories of a good mother...

Happy Birthday, Mum. We all REALLY love you!
And here is a little mother of our growing family. She hatched 6 eggs (from chickadoodle), and is a very inspiring mother in her own rite. Her little chicks are under her here (4 have survived, through no fault of hers) and we'd just picked some herbs and dug some worms for her to eat. This raising tiny ones is HARD work!!

Drizzly, Chizzly Autumn

2007-09-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

Hard to believe that it's October tomorrow. I have to admit I've been struggling a lot this past month. I'm not sure why. It all started around the time I returned from Alberta (first of the month -- I'm hoping it was a September thing and I'll wake up good as new tomorrow morning! he he) I've been feeling really tired. Tired to the point of not being able to get my words out coherently, my mind completely muddled and fuzzy, and my patience absolutely nil. Any homeopathic practitioners reading my blog? Here are my symptoms: I've had a sore throat every night when I go to bed, my skin is very dry and itchy, I'm having breakouts on my face, I have achey joints and nausea at night, I feel chilled to the bone nearly all the time, the whites of my eyes are red in the morning, and I've had a headache nearly all the time. The thing is, it's all come in waves. It was so bad for a week or so that I went to see my medical doctor and got my thyroid tested (0.45 -- normal). Then I felt better for awhile and decided it might have been my slowly cutting out coffee from my diet. But after the side-effects of coffee withdrawals subsided it came back. I sought out my naturopathic doctor this time and I got my ferritin levels checked (haven't got the results yet).
The worst part is that I've been really short with my kids. And I don't know about you, but in my world there's nothing worse than going to bed at night feeling horrible about my mothering skills for that day... aaagh.
Some of my friends have been trying to help me figure out what this could be and here are some of the guesses:
1. A virus. Apparently you can have the beginnings of a coldy-type-flu for weeks at a time and never really get terribly sick, but feel this way.
2. Feelings manifesting into physical symptoms. This could be the result of several things:
a) Pedar weaned while we were in Alberta (it was very gradual and I didn't think it was a hard thing for me) which means I'm not breastfeeding now for the first time in nearly 6 years. Could my body be attempting to land me in a lovely 5 star spa in the tropics somewhere in order to refill my bare cupboards? he he he
b) Also, my grandma has been really ill. She fell and cracked her scapula and then got so constipated from the codeine they were giving her that she ended up in the hospital for that. I don't think I'll ever come to terms with the fact that she is SO alone in her old age. I continue to carry such guilt that I didn't make a stand for her and bring her to live with me. It fills me up SO much to go and crawl into bed with her even if she can't really talk much and just moans softly as I caress her face... I've gone around and around with this one and think I've come to terms with my choice to leave her where she is and just fill her up the best I can when I see her. But I really haven't. I don't know how I ever could. NOBODY should have to gradually die the way she is, surrounded by none of your own people. I've posted about this lots of times before. Andrea guessed that this could be affecting me like a virus...
c) I did the Landmark Forum on that second wknd in September. I cleared up SO many unhealthy thought processes that were holding me back from having really clear, healthy relationships with my extended families. I think I needed that wknd to last about a month. There's another post hiding there...
and
3. What about physical issues manifesting into feelings? Andrea asked me, when I got my head shaved, if I had "crown issues"? Crown issues? What are crown issues? Well, I'm still not sure, but I do know that I've always had to chain myself to the chair to EVER get a haircut. It's never been a joyful or relaxing experience for me. Ever. And after every haircut I've ever received I've had a little cry! Truly! Even the really great haircuts that I've loved! So, perhaps I have crown issues. And then to go in and have my head SHAVED? Maybe I'm like Samson (wasn't it Samson?) and held all my power in my hair? he he he I'm laughing, but what if there really is something to that?
I really don't know what's going on. I've just entered my moon time and it's a really heavy flow. Perhaps it'll all work its way out this way... I'd welcome any insights that might have come up for you here...

Back

2007-09-18T15:49:00.000-07:00

Oh yes! Indeed, I am back and in fact have been for weeks. Autumn has truly landed here, even if it isn't official for 5 more days. To me, Fall means introducing a timer into our days. Like many of you, in summer, we truly sometimes are outside nonstop for days (camping at the beach), and certainly are USUALLY outside from sun-up until sun-down. We eat outside, play outside, work outside, and this little computer box gets seriously neglected. Weather changes all that: winds (that's what's happening right now that's brought me indoors), the dipping temperatures, the rains (oh we so need some moisture right now!). Late summer demands indoor time to squirrel away our garden bounty for winter, but that's not work that tolerates more than a peek or two at the computer screen. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I'll be posting a lot more regularly now.
In the meantime, race over to the blog of four very inspirational women and enter their contests (you have to scroll down, there are four posts, four prizes, four comments you need to leave to enter) and mention you got there from here and if I win I'll share the fun, okay? Go! It's a fabulous blog. I get so many food, book, sewing, knitting, philosophy inspirations from these ladies!

We're off...

2007-08-26T21:24:00.000-07:00

Just a quick farewell. Kids and I are leaving our little oasis on a little adventure. Crossing over the mountains to my dear friend's mum's funeral. Very sad. Cancer. She was an incredible woman, died too young, but really lived while she had the chance.

See you in a few days...

August Activities

2007-08-21T16:18:00.000-07:00

The garden is overflowing!!!

And so is the pantry and freezer.

PLUSEQUALS

THIS! Cool, huh? Frenched beans for the freezer.

Annika's garden is highly productive too. Her largest cuke.

My hair is growing as fast as the garden... already over an inch long!

My cousin and her lovely partner paid us a visit and filled up our hearts...

Pedar's becoming quite the little photographer...

A bumblebee on the left, a honeybee top left. Wish I could've got a wasp in the photo too. Too many people don't know the difference...

We hosted a fun birthday party for my sister-in-law... A crazy-hat party.

And had lots of fun with cousins visiting from Alberta. Dress-up, wiener roasts, train rides...

Even a surprise visit from Annika's oldest friend. Sophia was born 6 months before Annika and was her first friend.

And Annika and I attended a crazy dress-up party first of the month.

A magical night On Top of The World...

2007-08-03T13:35:00.000-07:00

This is our favourite place to meet daddy for a picnic after work. It's full of magic and wonder and frogs and toads and turtles and birds and weasels and deer and bear! We've seen them all, and lots of them. Even our food tastes better up here! Especially the peach pie we took, still warm from the oven. The Okanagan has to be one of the most amazing places to live, on earth, especially with all of this incredible local fruit, this time of year! This hill-top is truly a mystical place, and the best spot in town to watch the sun go down!

Gladness and Sadness in July

2007-08-03T13:07:00.000-07:00

We were SO excited to see a yellow-bellied flycatcher nesting under the eave of our barn, we did a little song and dance in a circle under the nest every day. The day the baby (seemed to be just one!?) hatched, we were giddy with joy. Imagine how we were by the day the little bird took its first flight, us 3 crouched against the barn holding our breath... What we didn't know was that someone more sinister was also watching and holding her breath..... Yup. Our cat. OH! How we wailed when we caught her with our sweet little baby in her mouth... We had a funeral and wept tears of anger and sadness, the little mother flycatcher singing her mournful song in the tree directly above us. We each said a little prayer and it thrilled my heart to hear the sweet gratitude of my children for the Great Mother and the comfort and joy she gives my wee ones. They were both blessing this little bird on its next journey and assuring its mother that it would soon rejoin her...

We thoroughly enjoyed our strawberry and raspberry harvests this year. Our freezer is heavy with both. I wanted to make a combination of black currant/rasp/strawberry saft, so we went picking bc's with friends and made up 3 lovely jars for winter sipping. Delicious!

My beautiful friend from highschool found the love of her life and we got to attend her wedding. She's had a rough time since our carefree days of indulgence living in Pakistan with servants and drivers and all... She's overcome SO much, she inspires me just to think of her. Her brother ended his own life, her first marriage ended in disappointment, her mother has suffered a multitude of strokes, and Jill was the victim of a brutal break-and-enter and very nearly lost her life. She's scarred, physically and emotionally, but the beauty of her spirit shines so brightly through her eyes my heart squeezes every time I think of her. I couldn't help thinking, as I watched Annika enraptured watching this beautiful ceremony that things could have been very very different. When I was Annika's age I sat weeping through a funeral of a friend of my mother's who hadn't been so lucky in escaping her attacker. Thank you, Great Mother, for protecting my dear friend. Thank you for her spirit, her courage, her strength and her beauty that inspires us all.

BIG change for me in July

2007-08-03T12:31:00.000-07:00

Long long time ago I was listening to the Dalai Llama speak about vanity and how much it controls us, if we let it. No direct quotes here, but he was describing the release from superficial beauty that women experience when they shave their heads (a rite of passage to becoming a Buddhist). I decided right then that at some point in my life I would shave my head. I'd been brought up to be very very attached to my hair. Many women in the religion never let scissors touch their hair (and with locks down past their feet they suffered from migraines and neck problems!) My first real haircut wasn't until I was in my 20's, and I cried every time I got my hair cut, not from guilt, but from detachment.
Fast forward to a few months ago, the conversation was on breast cancer. Someone there said the thing that scared them the most was not the chemo or the cancer itself but the prospect of losing her hair. I was stunned. I wondered aloud at the culture that nurtures such attachment to HAIR! I began looking at myself differently in the mirror, trying to see the REAL ME, beneath the superficial distraction of my hair. Then, this beautiful woman took the plunge and called me minutes after, still feeling the release of her detachment. That was enough for me. I decided right then that it was time for me to meet mySELF. For too long I've been a head, with a body attached. I talk about my body like it's not really myself. I stare into the mirror, getting my head ready to go out, make-up, hair foofed, then throw on some clothes and out I go with hardly a glance at my body. I wanted to come down into my body. I wanted to be my WHOLE SELF. And more than anything, I wanted to GET STRONG.
So began the process of talking my kids into supporting my big decision. I talked to them about all these ideas and they came on board very quickly. Next came my spouse. I told him he didn't have any say in the matter, that this was the start of me being strong, and I was only telling him beforehand (the evening before) so that he didn't freak out when he saw me. I explained to him how I live in this strong head with a weak body attached and needed to change all that. He got what I was talking about and the next morning we embarked on my new adventure. Here's the pictorial, recorded by my darling daughter:

EXHILARATING! The freedom! I was instantly my whole self. I AM my body. I am all of me. It has been an amazing experience for me... The reactions have been interesting, but I have felt very supported by my family and closest friends. What else matters? My kids at different times decided they wanted theirs shaved off too, but didn't want to go to the barber. I don't have clippers, so gave them each short haircuts instead. Pretty fun...

Camping at the lake

2007-08-03T12:06:00.001-07:00

Let's see, what happened in June???

2007-08-03T11:02:00.000-07:00

June was a rainy, cool month for us so we just sat back and let the gardens grooooowwww (and the weeds too!!) and embarked on loads of adventures...

We rescued a baby robin just learning to fly and reunited it with its parents. We were so thrilled to see this little babe flying around with his parents the following day (our cat had left a distinguishing mark :o( )

Somewhere along the month it was Curious George's birthday... and he loooves choco cake!

Plenty of time for homeschooling friends while "normal" kids are still busy in school...

Gorgeous summer solstice evening where we sang goodbye to the summer sun and welcomed back the night...

Such a fun fishing trip on Father's Day weekend at Oyama Lake. Pouring rain but A&P each caught a fish and we caught a few extras that we've enjoyed from our freezer since. A pair of loons dived and swam right beside our boat and swallows dipped and dived around us. We got caught in a hailstorm and had the most wonderful time...

June was the official start of installing our own underground irrigation system. Ack! Still on-going. Kenai was a big help!

Rainy days call for loads of puppet shows and dress-up silliness.

Garden Update

2007-08-03T10:25:00.000-07:00

The late July garden is FULL and lush.

More of a jungle, really.

Beds positively overflowing... Vines tripping us as we try to walk between...

(L) Hyssop, nasturtium. (R) Tomatoes and basil.

(L) Promise of pumpkin carving (R) Promise of our fave spaghetti squash in winter

(L) An enormous Red Kuri Squash (R) Our last kohlrabi yet to be picked and inhaled

Cauliflower harvest (Can you smell the Aloo Gobi cooking? mmmmm)

Five and a half...

2007-06-05T09:48:00.000-07:00

We had a BIG celebration yesterday. Miss A knew June 4th was approaching and started making plans days ahead. She advised me to go to bed early the night before as I had a big day ahead: getting the house ready for her celebration, making waffles with raspberries and whipped cream, hanging streamers, playing games, singing to her, etc. Plus, with the big storm rolling in, we had LOTS to celebrate...

So here's the five and a half year old herself, holding the bunch of irises that grow up along the back of the sandbox, all of which fell over yesterday in the rain...

They're the most beautiful irises I have. Soft purple, smell like rain, amazing...

But not as amazing as the girl in purple holding them...

And here are the waffle fiends...

A Magical Misty Morning

2007-06-05T08:46:00.001-07:00

Like chickadoodle, each morning when I wake up I greet my children (who've usually been up with their dad for awhile already), make myself a steaming pot of Buckingham Palace Garden Party tea {Intriguing hints of high-grown pure Ceylon Earl Grey blend effortlessly with the soft jasmine from Fujian Province. Couple this with malty Assam (from the estate of Borengajuli) flavory Dimbula Ceylon (from Hatton), brisk and golden cup East of Rift Kenya (from Kambaa and Kagwe) and you have one of the most flavorful teas to come from the British Isles.} and go outside to see what's changed in my gardens over night. Come along and see what the RAINS have changed... YES! RAINS! It rained and rained and it's misty this morning and promising MORE RAIN! YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

(you're googling the tea, aren't you? hee! it's delicious. you'd love it.)

Still More Gardens

2007-06-01T18:32:00.001-07:00

Okay, this is the view of my new potager from the house. Far from finished, but I love love. The bank in between the house and the potager will eventually be full-on permaculture terraces (wanna come help? hee!)

This is one of the triangular beds, full of cabbage, onions, purple kohlrabi, eggplants. The other is our peas coming on strong, and peppergrass growing up amongst, and then radishes poking up underneath (grow great in the shade).

A hot chili almost ready for harvest (I overwintered this plant in the house) and some lovely broccoli growing nicely even though the plant is feeling the heat...

I got 2 full beds of strawberry plants free from an abandoned house that they were about to tear down, they were just planted this spring and look at the fruit already coming on! Eventually I hope we have HEAPS of strawberries and blueberries to go with our buckets of raspberries...

I have about 30 tomato plants, all started from seed. These are interplanted with cucumbers, rainbow chard and lots of basil.

Veggie Gardens

2007-06-01T15:20:00.000-07:00

Here's a peek at my late spring gardens:

I'm trying a purple tomatillo this year./Tiny kohlrabi

Annika's garden -- she's got the hang of permaculture, she's let all her lambs quarter grow to shade the tender plants from the sun/last year's beds up by house/foxglove garden (fingers crossed)

And below are beds up by house (more established, better conditions i think, definitely better soil!

Compost heaven...

2007-06-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

Most people who know me, know that nothing bothers me more than waste. I seriously cannot handle things being wasted. Anything. I'm one of those people who stops on the road, leans out as far as I can to pick up a glove or pad of paper or plastic bag... I know it's in my genes -- my dad worked for my brother for awhile emptying big dumpsters and MOST of the contents ended up being saved. It was his ideal job, and probably would be mine too: rescuing things from the dump? Aaah! What could be more rewarding?! I think when I lived in Pakistan and used to watch the Afghan refugees go through the garbage bin in the back, I really saw how nothing, truly NOTHING should be wasted. And that's how I see life. Nothing should be waste! Everything should be reused, remade, rethunk, or never made in the first place. So it's not surprising that I REALLY love compost. I dream about compost. I can't look at discarded organic matter without thinking about compost. I peel carrots at friends' houses and sneak the peelings into my bag to bring home. I have a standing offer to anyone I know to bring their compostable materials over for my chickens or composts. I see people's grass clippings on the side of the road or better yet, bagged up oak leaves, and I bring them home for my compost. I'm even collecting my pee to pour onto my compost (nitrogen!!) So, mostly for my like-minded cousin who also shares a love of such things, here's a pictorial tour of my compost garden:

All of my composts (so far) are in my chicken coop. This is the one that's shaded by mock orange, that the chickens dig through, take what they want, add their own offerings, and this composter makes solid gold...
This is my quickest composter. It's at least 25 years old, inherited from my dad, been remade a few times, and still going strong. I can never get over how quickly this turns organic matter into beautiful black clumpy soil.

These are two fairly useless ones I inherited from my father-in-law. Difficult to stir, water runs off before it gets to the bottom, not sure why I keep them, except that I never have enough room for compostable materials... I mostly just put grass clippings (my fil's), leaves and chicken bedding into these. They're slow.

These are those ones that the county sells each year. Not bad. Not good. I keep inheriting peoples' who think it's a great idea but don't actually use them. Hard to stir, and a bit slow.
This is my "top secret" wire mesh circle, surrounded by black plastic recently made composter. I put a shovel full of dog poo, followed by a handfull of leaves and so far it hasn't stunk at all. Amazes me. I read that this will be "done" quicker than I can imagine. I'll keep you posted... hee! because you REALLY want the details, don't you? he he

Summertime pictorial update of Barker Road

2007-06-01T14:00:00.001-07:00

Many requests for photos of what it looks like in our yard just now... So here you go:

Here's one of our rainbarrels, an old oak wine barrel that mosquitoes can't seem to hatch in!

We find them all floating on top.
This is the children's "secret garden" area, shaded by the big maple. This is where they build fairy houses, put food out for the fairies and have secret tea-parties. You can't see, but there's just a small entrance into a very private little area. Lily of the Valley and muscari in the centre, but those are over now. Lovely.

This is what some of our lawn looks like right now. Filled with buttercups. Earlier in the spring it was pink wood violets. I love not caring about real grass! But I do need to decrease the number of dandelions somehow. We just don't like our ankles being whipped by the stems.

And this is the new blueberry patch I just planted, below the children's tree house (built by my talented husband). Sure hope we get buckets of blueberries in a year or two!

And I included this to show my new water collection system at the kitchen sink. It's my grannie's old aluminum bowl she always made her bread in and having my grannie in my kitchen that way just makes my heart sing. The plants on the window ledge are avocado, succulent, pomegranate, lemon, date+basil. Wouldn't it be amazing if I could get any of those to grow via permaculture on the banks??? mmmm. I love to dream...

I CHOOSE...

2007-05-29T11:17:00.000-07:00

WOW! What a response from that last post. Thank you for your emails and comments! That theme seemed to really resonate and reverberate through most everyone and was so interesting/encouraging/insightful/helpful for me to read about your experiences with it. This whole issue with connection or rather disconnection is truly a universal problem in our culture, and one I have begun to focus on in my life. I have to say, that I didn't recognize in my previous post that I DO have wonderful friends who are offering and willing to truly be my tribe... But what I find is that it's not enough. I need connection with my husband or all the help from my tribe doesn't wipe out the aching loneliness I feel inside. But I also couldn't do this without my tribe.
So after getting really clear, over the past few months, about what I don't choose in my life, I was concerned that it might take me an equal amount of time to get clear on what I do choose. But no. As soon as I was able to voice clearly to my husband what it is that's not working in my life, it was very clear about what I need. It's years and years of programming that I'm eliminating in my life. Stories and beliefs that I adopted from my own parents' marriage and their views about what jobs were or weren't important. That being said, I truly have no idea what they really thought as all of my stories come from my own experience of it, what I perceived to be happening, what I imagined they thought and felt... And so, recognizing that, I see so clearly that in NOT CHOOSING their experience, it opens up a whole new realm of choosing my own. What freedom! And when I'm clear and feeling connected with Brent, it seems quite easy. When I'm not, it seems impossible. This is a journey, nonetheless, and will take the rest of my life to complete... But here's the changes in my itinerary that I'm undertaking right now:
1. I am no longer leaving it up to chance whether or not I'm connected with my husband. I very consciously connect with each of my children every morning when they wake up, each time they come back from an extended play, and every time we're separated for any length of time. Neufeld calls this "collecting" and I've learned that it is essential for emotional safety to my children. I am extending this same idea to my husband. I will not wait and hope that it just happens any longer. I am bumping the importance of this up to #1 as I am very clear that when I am disconnected with him I cannot mother the way I want to, I'm jittery, distracted and snappy. When I feel solidly connected with him, I feel like I can handle anything. So, I'm going to be planning regular time to connect: picnics, dates, walks, early-to-bed nights, writing in our co-journal, emails, phonecalls, etc.
2. I am no longer waiting for people to offer to give me time to myself. I've always known that I need time to myself, but I resist it somehow. I know how fleeting these years are with my children so young and precious and I honestly don't want to miss out on a second of them. Yet I also know that they need more of me now than they ever will in their lives -- they need ALL of me every moment of the day and that is very draining. And so it's clear that I NEED TO RECHARGE. And I'm clear that I can be with them always, never get time away, and the years will pass just as quickly in angst and resentment as they would if I get a few minutes to myself each day and they pass with joy and gratitude... SO! I will be making sure that I get regular time out, whether it be 10 minutes of yoga stretching, or an hours' walk by myself in the evening, or asking friends to play with my children for a bit while I catch my breath. The key here is regular. I can't wait until I'm empty or it's a vicious cycle. I have taken our empty teapot and held it over a cup to show Annika why I need to get away by myself so that I have something to offer her... Change of direction: I'm no longer going to wait for the pot to be empty before getting away to put something in it. I have also let my husband know that I have found that I am able to be the sole-parent well for about 8 hours. After that, I start to slide into a state that is satisfying to nobody. It was SO difficult for me to voice that need because in our culture so much of our worth is tied to how busy you are, how much you work and how much you make... All of those things are cut back when you only work 8 hours a day! But I do see clearly that this is something that is very important to me. It's interesting to me that when I decided to stay home, and Brent decided to work, that I stopped asserting my choices while he continued to do so. I take responsibility for that. When he found he was getting more and more responsibility at this job, I didn't say "Uh oh, what are we going to do? Sounds like they're asking you to work 10 or 12 hours a day, hey? What are we going to do? I can only do 8 on my own..." You know? This is my life, I have as much choice in my life as he does. What is it about our culture that gives a stay-at-home mum the message that she doesn't have choices? She just gets what's ever left-over? Because that's crap! THIS is the most important job, we ALL know that. HOW the breadwinner makes enough to live comfortably on (a whole other topic, yeesh!) has very little to do with how happy the family is. As long as the breadwinner is satisfied and content in his/her work, it doesn't affect the children what the job actually is, right? But the time spent away absolutely affects the entire family. How drained the breadwinner is upon arriving home absolutely affects the family. Yet we give very little thought to all that, and much more thought to how prestigious the job is, how much money is made, etc. Trivial, truly, when it comes to the well-being of our families and how well our society functions. We're so ethno-centric about all this, thinking that we've really figured it out -- we make heaps of money, buy heaps of stuff to fill ourselves up with, and look how very very happy we are. Heck, all those people in developing worlds want to be just like us, right? Cause they're sure not happy living in their little shacks and existence lifestyles... Until you actually go visit them, and see that they are genuinely happy with very little... and come back home and see that we are truly NOT very satisfied or happy and that all this stuff we buy to fill ourselves up with is completely destroying the planet -- for us AND for them. Ack!
3. Focus. Yes, not just a problem in this post, but a problem in my daily life. I wake up with a gazillion things I desperately want to accomplish -- everything from catching up in my garden to really being present with my children... and I haven't been taking the time to focus on what my greatest need is for that day and then choosing to focus on one or two things... I think this alone will drastically alter my itinerary. I hear myself complaining that I need time to focus. I want to do SOMEthing without being distracted. Focus-time. Yet why don't I choose one or two things to actually FOCUS on each day? Seriously up the chances of feeling a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. Of course this means letting everything that I'm not choosing to focus on, GO.
4. Choosing each and every day to CREATE my life. Not letting things happen to me. Not falling back into my comfortable old familiarity of being disappointed or powerless. Stopping the vicious cycles of being a martyr-mother, a misunderstood-underappreciated-wife, and CREATING my best life every moment. And when I don't? Letting it go and being kind to myself, knowing that I'm making progress and growing... Remembering that my life is a journey, and enjoying the adventure of it all...

Do you CHOOSE your life?

2007-05-25T17:19:00.000-07:00

Five years, 5 months and 21 days ago I made a decision that continues to rule my life. I don't know that I'd go back and change it, but knowing what I know now, I definitely would've given it more thought.

I chose to be the sole night time parent to my newborn child.

That's it. Pretty simple choice. I simply decided that I would not wake my husband in the night or expect him to wake to help me in the night with our newborn. Every other woman in my family had made the same choice. It's what I knew. It's what felt right. My husband was working outside the home. He had an important job. I was breastfeeding. My baby seemed to truly need me and only me in those first few weeks, or rather months, or um years... I didn't want to disturb him. I was pretty sure I couldn't ask him to get up with her by himself and let me sleep through some of her nightime wakings (which were many), so really, what was the point of us BOTH being awake? And on and on my rationale went.
But I think it was that simple choice that has influenced so much of my life now, in ways I didn't know it would. What I was saying to myself, my husband and even to my child, was that my husband needed more sleep to do his daytime job than I needed to do mine. Which sort of said that his job was more important, needed more concentration, more focus. It sort of told my husband that this whole parenting thing was more my job than his. It sort of gave him permission to be free-er right from the start than I was. It let him off the hook in so many ways.
It's not like it was ALL I knew. My wise sister-in-law had her first baby 2 weeks earlier and she wasn't making the same choice. This was THEIR baby and THEY were going to care for him. I sort of thought her a bit selfish, a bit silly. Why should they BOTH be up in the night? Why not let the one who could sleep sleep?
Well, 5 years, 5 months and 21 days later, the dynamics in that house are very different than the ones in this house. My husband works outside the home A LOT. It's not unusual for him to be gone 10 or 11, sometimes 12 hours a day. And it's not by my choice. He doesn't include me when planning his weekly schedule. He's the breadwinner. This is just what happens, isn't it? Didn't I have 2 choices? To be alone at home with my children OR to work outside the home and leave my children with someone else most of the day?
He pops home unexpectedly in the day and when my excitement plummets upon realization that he's not actually staying, he says things like "well, would it be better if I didn't come home at all then?"
This isn't the life I thought I was choosing that night. I chose to be the primary parent for attachment, but I didn't realize I was choosing years and years of not mattering when it came to actually CHOOSING how I spend my week. Oh, I wouldn't choose to work outside the home. I wouldn't choose to be away from my children. But I WOULD choose for my husband to share the responsibility of household chores, to be home more, to be more in a co-parenting role. I think I thought that choice would expire in, what about 6 months when she started sleeping through the night (LOL!!!) or a year at the most...
We moved out to the Okanagan in pursuit of a simpler life. My husband's job in the big city was demanding too much of him, pulling him away from us on weekends and he didn't feel like he was able to CHOOSE his life. We wanted to be together more. He wanted to be a more involved dad. We were giving up money and prestige in favour of a simpler life.
But did anything really change? He has an 'important' job. It demands long hours and lots of his energy and focus. He chooses to continue in his job. I, by default, am alone a lot with our children. I, because I'm home alone with our children, do all of the laundry, all of the cooking, all of the cleaning (not that there's a whole lot of that that's getting done these days!), all of the food buying and growing, all of the planting, all of the preparation for celebrations, all of the gift-buying/making, and on and on the list goes. Do I CHOOSE this? Well, I guess I do. It all needs to be done and I'm here so I do it. Mostly with joy. Sometimes with resentment. I definitely choose to homeschool our kids. I definitely choose to garden (my life's passion). I definitely choose much of what I do with my time and how I spend my life. But the one thing that seems beyond my control, out of my reach for choosing, is with whom I do all of this. I wouldn't choose to do it alone, as I am now. I would choose to have a co-parent. I would choose to have my own thing on the side, something I can do from home, something I'm passionate about, something that's all mine. I would choose for my husband to work from home as well, at something he's passionate about too. But nobody's asking. Hell, I'm not waiting to be ASKED, I'm sharing my desires/needs/wants but nobody's listening.
And I'm frustrated. Empty too much of the time. Because this most-important job in all the world is truly NOT meant to be done alone. Mothering is meant to be done in a tribe, surrounded by other adults, sharing chores, sharing jobs, sharing passions, having time to oneself as others fill in the gaps, taking up the slack when others need time to themselves... Connection. We are MEANT to be connected. To our mothers, our sisters, our cousins, our children, our HUSBANDS, for &%#@ sake. We are not meant to be disconnected for hours each day. What is the result of disconnection? I think it's monotony. Resentment. Depression. Disconnection takes what should be done in joy and turns it on its head.
It's not the life I choose. Plain and simple. What's to be done about it? In this culture, how do we choose otherwise? Being 'successful' means such a different thing to me than it used to. How do we choose connection in a disconnected culture? How do you do it? Do you feel a true partnership with your husband? How do you manage it? I'd love to hear...

Ponderings

2007-05-10T10:25:00.000-07:00

Thanks so much for all your loving thoughts from that last post. I found my Grandma feeling very sad and emotional on Tuesday, worrying about her salvation. It broke my heart -- this woman who's given her whole life to this paternal God, all in the name of a peaceful death... has no peace in her heart in her last days. She worries that she's not reading her bible enough now (her mind is so chaotic that she has a hard time reading anything) and so I tried to find comforting, encouraging, reassuring verses to read to her. My goodness. I had forgotten what a vengeaful, wrathful, judging God the bible teaches about! So I sang to her. And I opened my heart and just poured my love into her. I visualized peace and acceptance and forgiveness and love just pouring into her and healing her aching heart. It worked. By the time we left she was much calmer and more at peace. I've talked to her each morning since and she sounds stronger and more her old self.
It's amazing to me that in our culture we somehow think it's okay to put our old people into institutions where their bodies will be cared for, where they're completely separated from the families that they've dedicated their lives to, but somehow we pretend that we feel 'good' about all this because 'they're getting the very best care'. To me, my Grandma is like a small child now, her mind is not clear and she needs constant reassurance and love and attention from people she trusts. She's forgotten that she's lived in that home for 10 years. Nobody is familiar to her. She looks around her room every minute and can't figure out how all her things got there. She forgets even the names of her children, but she doesn't forget that she doesn't belong there. There's nobody that she loves to reassure her and comfort her and make her feel safe. Her spirit dies a little every day that because it's not restored and filled with the love of her own people. And so it takes a lot of filling to heal that.
I'm not against daycare. I know a lot of children thrive in such places, with loving caretakers to stimulate them and teach them... But imagine children put into daycare where their parents only visited them once or twice a week? For an hour or so? Unthinkable! That's what the orphanages in Romania and China are like -- and we all know the results -- permanently stunted and spiritually-deformed, emotionally-haunted children. Why do we expect anything different to happen to our aged?

Losing Ground...

2007-05-07T12:56:00.000-07:00

My Grandma is one of my most favourite people alive... I adore my visits with her yet somehow don't make the time to see her more often. She's losing ground right now and I'm finding myself feeling pretty teary about it all. On Friday she wanted me to rescue her from the nursing home where she's lived the past 10 years and I did for a few hours, but in the end I returned her and left her there. It broke my heart and I think possibly broke her spirit. She's been mostly in bed ever since and not eating and her voice is garbly on the phone. The thing is, she's not embraced life for a few years now, and has been mostly wanting and waiting to die in order to join her beloved angels on the 'other side'.
She's on my mind pretty much constantly and I have to force myself to not phone her every hour. She asked me if I thought it was alright that she just die now, and I said I thought it was. I'm going to her tomorrow and the hours in between can't go by quickly enough... There's the garden, the passion of my life, that's calling to me, there's the very last, much-anticipated swim lesson of the session (to see if Miss A passed), there's the dancing to Mr. P's harmonica music to be done... Life is sweet yet Grandma is foremost on my mind and heart.

Gma and me at her 90th birthday party a couple of weeks ago.

So much of me wonders how things would be different if I could have/ would have taken my Gma in to live with us when we moved here... But I'm accepting that I didn't and that it can't be changed now. I'm accepting that somethings in life can't be understood, and that they just work out the way they're meant to... I'm accepting that my dear old Grandma just might be ready to pass over... And I'm feeling so grateful that I can go and give her more hugs and kisses and reassurances and love before she does...

The strange thing is, this love for my Grandma is new to me. I didn't love her the way I do now before I became a mother. I judged her as being selfish and only saw the things she wasn't. When I became a mother I realized just how hard things must have been for her and my judgments all just fell away. Also, when I lost my parents (7 years ago today), her unconditional love and acceptance became so much more important to me. She truly is the only person alive that I feel completely unconditionally accepted by. That's a gift that can never be replaced.

These are photos of my Grandma and myself at age 20. (I look more like my mum's side of the family.) Isn't it interesting that we both had glamorous photos taken of ourselves at that age, both looking over the same shoulder!?

And here's Grandma at 40. I think she got even more beautiful, don't you? This is a reminder for me to have a photo taken of myself in 2 years too. I'm 38 now. Oh! How I hope that if I'm still alive at 90 that I'm still walking and gardening and cooking and living with my family and passionate about my life...

We ARE the earth

2007-05-02T18:48:00.000-07:00

A wee bit from a conversation between Bill Moyers and Joseph Cambell in 1986 (twenty years ago when Global Warming was not on the front page everyday)
Moyers: Don't you think modern Americans have rejected the ancient idea of nature as a divinity because it would have kept us from achieving dominence over nature? How can you cut down trees and uproot the land and turn rivers into real estate without killing God?
Cambell: Yes, but that's not simply a characteristic of modern Americans, that is the biblical condemnation of nature which they inherited from their own religion and brought with them, mainly from England. God is separate from nature, and nature is condemmed by God. It's right there is Genesis: we are to be masters of the world. But if you will think of ourselves as coming out of the earth, rather than having been thrown in here form somewhere else, you see that we are the earth, we are the consciousness of the earth.

HAPPY EARTH DAY!!!

2007-04-22T14:17:00.000-07:00

One of my favourite days of the year... just knowing that so many people around the globe are inspired to find new ways to take care of our precious planet...

The radio show today was cancelled. I have to admit I was terribly disappointed, but it wasn't all for naught. In getting ready to talk to thousands in 84 different countries around the globe, I was inspired to a new level to truly be the change I want to see... to get off my ass and really live the inspired life I yearn to...

In the night, I came up with what I think is a fabulous idea... come over to my environment blog to see what I converted this into (at 4 AM! ahem!):

It's pretty cool! Come see. hee!

Must-Read

2007-04-20T21:24:00.000-07:00

Oh, PLEASE read THIS! My good friend shared this bit of brilliance and I truly want everyone to read it! Will you? It's SUPER long. I had to make a cup of tea and settle in for a good long while. But oh my, SO worth it. Let me know what you think. xo