Beautiful Each Day

Weather

2009-03-23T08:07:00.000-07:00

In the last 48 hours we have had a sunny 75 degree afternoon, a windy, pounding rainstorm, thunder, lightning, hail and now a frosty 28 degree morning. Spring is a capricious sprite.

Mother Nature's creatures are not easy to predict either. We recently expanded and improved the chicken coop after His Majesty Prince Eagle found his way in. (Picture and story on Patrick's blog) Now that their housing seems secure from forced entry, I have lost two chickens to a predator who seems to be reaching through the wire walls and (sorry, yuck) eating the carcasses right through the wire. I imagine it is a bobcat, based on a lack of tracks. The only other animal I think capable of such dexterity is a raccoon, but they generally leave easily-read footprints.

In all my years growing up here, I saw only one bobcat, and that was when I was far from everything, horseback riding by myself. Last month I spotted my second cat, inside the fence of the yard, only 20 feet from my parents' front door. My mouth actually fell open. She had just killed one of the geese in broad daylight. Amazing.

The weather, animal behavior, the success or failure of my vegetable plants- the unpredictable pattern of these things reminds me never to assume I know what Mother Nature has up her sleeve.

My fairy princess

2009-03-22T06:14:00.000-07:00

Welcome Spring

Busy Days

2009-03-21T08:49:00.000-07:00

We have been working hard on our little farm these past few days. The rain has stopped and the earth is drying. The plants are reaching up and down with green tips and hairy roots. I am now applying myself to the happy task of filling 2oo square feet of gopher and deer-proof garden beds with seeds and home-grown transplants. The boxes are constructed of huge redwood beams and galvanized wire mesh, so I expect to be using them for many years to come. They will hold onions, leeks, root vegetables, lots of greens, and many kinds of herbs. Tucked in here and there will be flowers, too, including some red peonies that I have dreamed of for years. Thank you Ruchama!! Each of the children have a little section all their own. Ellie planted flowers and chamomile for tea. Izzy will be growing peas, carrots and flowers. Aliana, ever practical, figures I will be growing enough vegetables for everyone, so she is going with nothing but showy, delightful blooms.

I also have a large sunny area that Izzy and Papa are discing in the first picture. This will be planted in corn, beans, squash, melons and potatoes. Yum. I just have to get up the nerve to use the gopher traps. Yuck.

I know it's kinda cheating...

2009-03-20T20:37:00.000-07:00

but take a look over at Patrick's blog for the breaking goat news. I'll be back soon.

The Glamour of Farming

2009-02-25T08:32:00.000-08:00

This growing your own food business is a lot a fun.

Most of the time.

Then comes the day when you realize the milk goat has a terrible, messy belly-ache because you, the clever farmer, fed her way too many orange peels. Or, at least, you hope that is what is causing her upset. Not being a vet, you haul out the biggest book on the animal care bookshelf, the Merck's Veterinary Manual. (Thank you Brendan and Kirsten) It confirms you suspicions. You decide that the goat will live, but that the family won't be drinking the milk for a few days, just in case. You send Mr. Farmer to the store to buy organic milk. While he is off in town you discover that even in her distress, sicko goat felt well enough to knock down and mutilate the wire cage protecting a wild honeysuckle vine in the goat pen. Your parents, generous enough to let you stick your dang vine-ravaging goats on their property, would like to this this specimen preserved, hence the cage. You straighten the cage, tromp through the incredible boot-sucking mud and return with a five-pound bag of cayenne pepper. Why do you possess five pounds of cayenne pepper? It was going to be an attempt at organic pest control. The sicko goat is certainly making a pest of herself. You cover the ground around the cage with the spicy stuff and sneeze a couple of times. Okay, time to milk. On your clock, anyway. Goat girl thinks it's time to play tag. You're it. A bucket of grain and some stolen mouthfuls of alfalfa later, you nab her. Then she runs with amazing strength, dragging you to the gate, eager to leap up on the milking stand. Okay, chores done, wipe that sweat off your brow.

Oops. Remember that cayenne? It's in your eye now.

You think this farming thing might not be worth your trouble after all? Mr. Farmer returns with a gallon of organic milk from the blasted grocery store. $8!!!

Okay, okay, I'll go do my chores, just let me get this pepper out of my eye first.

The Dull Days of Winter

2009-02-24T03:43:00.000-08:00

I hope and pray and finagle for rain, then it all seems to come at once. The trees and wildflowers and I really do appreciate it, but must it all blow in in February? Our already minuscule house is shrinking from all the rain. All the toys have been played with and discarded in boredom. Aliana and I have read aloud until hoarse. We have baked and consumed more brownies and muffins that I care to admit. I have spent way too much time reading about other people lives on blogs. And the mud! Bleh. But I really do thank the heavens for the rain. I really do.

The Chicken or the Egg?

2009-02-23T15:19:00.000-08:00

I have written before about how amazing and practical Aliana is. Check the archives for March 2008. I have further proof to offer today. She has solved the ancient question: which came first, the chicken or the egg?

She tells me that there was first a chicken, then an egg. She has a logical argument to back it up. I love classical homeschooling.

Her reasoning is based evolutionary theory. She imagines that there were birds pecking around in the jungles of Asia that were very chicken-like, the ancestors of today's domestic poultry. One day one of these extremely chickenish jungle hens mated with an all white-meat rooster. An egg was laid. It hatched. Out came chicken numero uno. This chick had enough of the features of what we call chickens to be so called. Since then we have had chickens. Yum.

Blue Rubber Bands

2009-02-22T14:02:00.001-08:00

You know, the really thin ones that hold bunches of green onions together. And then there are the wide purple ones that arrive around bunches of broccoli.

Today, contemplating a handful of rubber bands, it occurred to me how much I value those little blue guys. I use them for all sorts of things. I am also fond of the plastic bags that hold potatoes. I use these instead of buying trash bags. I figure they're going to be thrown away anyway, I may as well use them one more time before they go. The incredibly long strings that come off new bags of animal feed get tucked away in a kitchen drawer for all kinds of wonderful projects. I buy my flour in cloth sacks and make the sacks into hankies. I can only find one brand of jam that doesn't contain high fructose corn syrup, and it happens to come in beautiful jars. We fill those with homemade feta to give away.

Looking at the rubber bands this morning, a funny thought popped into my head. I wonder if I will miss the little useful bits when green onions, broccoli, and such things don't come into the kitchen packaged, but are instead gathered from the garden. If the pounds and pounds of potatoes I plant this spring grow well, I will have to find a different solution for my trash bags. We recently bought a grain mill, so as soon as we run out of store-bought flour I will start grinding my own. I imagine we have plenty of hankies for now, though. This summer I look forward to putting up enough jam to last us all year, so I'll have to buy some jars for the cheese gifts.

I don't think I'll mind. It's just funny how the mind works sometimes.

I don't do Sudodku...

2009-02-20T18:15:00.000-08:00

but golly do I play games.

Back when I was a working girl I took over a department in my company that was staffed by three people. After helping to move the facility to a newer and much more efficient space I staffed it by myself for quite awhile. Around this time the president of the company brought in an efficiency expert. Yeah, really. He was a little bossy leprechaun of a man. He made his way to my desk one day and interrupted my work flow by asking me, "What did you do to bring down the payroll numbers in your department so drastically?" I attempted to hide my irritation at the interruption and find words that wouldn't sound too condescending. "I figured out how to do things as efficiently as possible, I made them buy me a telephone headset and I come in really early before everybody else gets here and wants to make small talk." He clearly wanted more from me, but I really didn't know what else to say. I worked as fast as possible for eight hours or so every day. I was well rewarded for my work. Asking for a raise after proving able to work as well as three people was easy.

But really, that was not my motivation. In this life it is necessary to do certain things. Different things for different people, and even different things at different times. These tasks can be performed in a perfunctory manner or with pleasure, even, dare I say, relish. At that time in my life I needed to go off to work every day for dollars. So, I found a way to make it downright fun. It was a terrific game to figure out ways to shave a few minutes off my tasks. When I had a boss it was satisfying to say, "Okay, finished that, can I go home early now?" When I was the boss it was great to have enough time to work on tasks beyond the normal scope of the job. It made my time at work far more interesting to vary my involvement in the company that way. But, really just the game of it was loads of fun. By the end I was probably shaving seconds off my time, but it was still enjoyable. It kept my mind awake.

These days my work keeps me home. I rear children and animals, tend gardens and rising bread. I continue to adore my efficiency game. Just as I was able to cut payroll costs for my company all those years ago, I can now take my pleasure in trimming dollars, and sometimes even cents, off our utility and grocery bills. Years ago I had to go to work. These days I truly must find ways to save money. Life for our family has changed in many ways over the course of the last year, and I am far from my single working girl days, but I am still enjoying my favorite game.

Ego?

2009-02-08T06:56:00.000-08:00

I like writing, it makes me think. Taking pictures helps me really look at things. But golly, do ya'll care? Is blogging really just a way to get people to pay attention to me?

Hmmm

Routine but not dull

2009-01-20T16:56:00.000-08:00

I like to stay home. It is absolutely my favorite place to be. I view errands in town with a general level of grumpiness and usually turn them over to dear Patrick, oftimes with a list more detailed and controlling than I care to admit. I have turned grocery shopping into one giant expedition once every month or so, when I drag Aliana along and show her some real world application for all that damn math I make her do. When the garden really gets rolling I think I will be able to cut the frequency down to every few months. Long live the chest freezer! All of that means I'm now only obligated to venture out once a week to take the kids to a day of workshops at our homeschool program site. My dear Patrick climbs out of bed every morning and drives away to ensure we have a small cash flow, while I have the liberty to stay at home and find ways to avoid spending those dollars. I am grateful beyond words for his willingness to divide our labor the way that we do.

So, what do I do all day.? Have a bon bon and let me catch you up on Days of Our Lives...

The hours in my days are neatly bookended by animal chores. Every twelve hours I milk Rosie the goat. Every single day, 7AM and 7PM. In summer I'm outside in the sunshine both milkings, in the winter I hide under cover from the rain or dark or cold at least once. I love having a living being depending upon me to be on schedule. It makes me actually do it!

Caring for other animals and the garden takes up time every day. Dishes, laundry, cooking, and homeschooling happen every day. My days are nearly all alike. I do have a loose weekly plan to accomplish things that don't need to be done daily, such as checking food stores on Friday, making cheese and bread on Tuesday, or planning our school week on Sundays.

Living the way we do, like sardines in a can, means that working surfaces must be kept clear when not in use. So tidying things up happens all day, every day. Flat surfaces with elbow room are at a premium in an 800 square foot home. It is enormously difficult for me to begin a cooking project if the counter is full of dirty dishes and condiment containers. Any hope of concentrating on a math lesson rests on beginning with a clear table. After many gentle and a handful of far from gentle reminders we have all settled into the habit of cleaning up one mess before we begin making a second one. Naturally we all need occasional reminders, but generally the house stays pretty tidy these days. I wouldn't want a visitor to peek behind my cupboard doors, and the laundry regularly overflows the capacity of the basket by about 700%, but I find it much easier to keep my head above water than I ever have before.

One thing at which I continue to marvel is the fact that even though we let go of truck loads of material goods when packing and moving last year, we are still finding things to give or throw away. Once a day I give the kids a few minutes warning, and then walk around to find things that aren't put away, threatening to donate anything I find lying around to the thrift store. The first time I found toys on the floor I tried to be lenient and give the kids another chance. to tidy up. Much to my surprise Isidore informed me that they had left them on the floor because they didn't want them any more. The choices they make about what to keep or give away fascinate me. Legos stay, tinker toys go. Wooden dolls and little metal cars stay, the marble maze set goes. Homemade cardboard shield and fabric scrap cape stay, fancy animal costumes go. Less toys mean less clean up for the players.

Living in our teeny abode has made the housework load many time lighter, as well. Sweeping the floor takes a few minutes. That's the whole floor, not one room. Once a week I wash the windows. All three of them. In order to simplify the dish-washing chores we each own one plate, one cup, one bowl, etc. Even 4-year old Elizabeth can rinse her bowl out after breakfast and leave it ready for lunch.

Less is good.

Honk

2008-12-22T08:41:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday Mom!

2008-12-21T07:08:00.000-08:00

Today is my wonderful mama's birthday. She was lucky enough to be born on a very special day, the winter solstice. Happy birthday, mom! I wish you a beautiful day full of winter's showiest magic. When you wake, the world will be decorated just for you with Mother Nature's gorgeous jewels, growing ever brighter as the sun shines into every little icy work of art. You'll be heralded by flocks of her feathered friends, cheerful and darling little sparrows and great, wise ravens. Your day will close with a very slow wave across the heavens from the league of creatures residing in the imaginations of people from time immemorial, celebrating the day each year when the sun begins to return to us, one day at a time.

I love you.

Shhh...it's a secret

2008-12-20T22:47:00.000-08:00

It's amazing how many hiding places we have found in this tiny little house. There are several absolutely darling handmade gifts secreted away on dark cupboard shelves or behind pieces of furniture. Aliana, if you are reading this, don't look in the big white pitcher in the dish cupboard!

It has truly made my holidays bright to watch Isidore nearly burst with excitement until Elizabeth falls asleep for her nap. As soon as her eyes close he jumps into action, cutting and sewing and decorating. Aliana and Elizabeth are just as delighted by crafting things for their loved ones. It is heartwarming.

I can hardly wait until the presents are unwrapped, so I can show you the fabulous things my children have come up with!

Look, Francine, I sewed!

2008-12-18T18:48:00.000-08:00

My dear Patrick has always wanted a green santa hat. I actually began sewing one last December, but that was back in the days when December didn't mean holiday cheer for our family. Instead Thanksgiving heralded the beginning of a month of working 16 hour days. Joy. Yeah. Pure joy. So the half-finished hat actually moved with us into the yurt.

This year, we have time to have a festive tree, make a gingerbread yurt, come up with darling homemade gifts for one another, and .... make a green hat for the man of green hats.

Magic Mist

2008-12-14T09:30:00.000-08:00

Elizabeth tells me that mist is magic. I have to agree with her. Everything appears different under the cover of mist. The world seems to shrink to include only those things within one's sight. Perhaps part of the magic is that the fog narrows one's view, and even thoughts. On foggy mornings I can't gaze off into the distance and remember riding my horse up and away and off over those hills. Instead my thoughts turn to chores to be done within the shroud of fog. I should trim the goats hooves this week. I really need to stock up on cracked corn for the chickens. There is fencing to be done. I think we'll have pea soup tonight. After I 've finished the chores I should bring in some more wood for tonight's fire.

I had a similar experience last week making a very long drive through the fog. I usually find myself thinking ahead to the end of my journey, anticipating climbing out of the truck and unbuckling the kids. Making my way through the mist was different. I was forced to concentrate on the few feet I could see ahead of me. Peering into the fog took up all my attention, and the time flew by. We almost seemed to be home before we set out.

I think Elizabeth is on to something.

The Order of Things

2008-12-08T04:41:00.000-08:00

I wrote a few posts back about creating order inside our new home, adjusting to a smaller space and less belongings. After the work of decluttering and tidying is done it feels so wonderful to stretch out and enjoy our home.

A few days ago we butchered a goat. We have created a little farm life here, an extension of what we began at our old home. On a farm there is a never-ending cycle of fecundity and sparsity. In the spring the garden wakes up and begins to grow after the winter pause. The animals bear young; dozen of eggs from the chickens, one or two kids from each female goat. The summer heat and long days full of sun help the garden to produce an astonishing amount of food in just a few months. The tiny chicks and frisky kids also grow with amazing speed. A chicken eats its way to butchering size in just twelve weeks. By the time autumn blows in, the garden has filled the root cellar, freezer and pantry with pounds and bushels and quarts. Also in the autumn the chicken coop feels much too crowded. Roosters loudly compete for attention and require substantially larger amounts of corn and scraps than they did as chicks. Some of the goat kids were male, or simply number too many to feed economically. As the light and warmth wane and the chores of the garden are fewer, butchering time comes.

Just as our home feels roomier and calmer after removing the excess, the chicken coop is quieter and much, much more peaceful after the majority of the young roosters and older hens have been, with enormous gratitude, dispatched to the freezer and pantry. It is much the same with the goats. As the male goats become mature they become aggressive and hard to manage safely. To allow peace to return to the goat pasture, leaving the does to chew their cud and fatten up until they give birth in the spring, we butcher the extra animals after they have done their job of ensuring that another generation will be born. The winter months stretch ahead of all of us, animals and humans, a quiet, less active time. The garden is scrubbed clean by the cold wind and frost while the animals enjoy the warmth of their shelters. In the snug house we plan next year's garden and cook from our stores.

Really, extra is not the right word for the animals we butcher and vegetables we eat during these dark, cold days. Unlike the material excess we gathered for years and then removed from our home, those creatures weren't brought into the world without thought. On the contrary, we put great consideration into just how much food our family requires for each turn of seasons. Each spring we plant what we hope is the just enough seeds and plan to raise just enough meat. We try to raise just enough, not too much, not too little.

I do believe the world could use a lot more just enough right now.

Thanks for Sun

2008-11-28T10:02:00.000-08:00

Thanks for Food

2008-11-27T09:43:00.000-08:00

Thanks for Shelter

2008-11-26T09:32:00.000-08:00

Thanks for Rain

2008-11-25T07:00:00.000-08:00

Family Hands, Four Forty-seven pm Wednesday, November Nineteenth, Two Thousand Eight

2008-11-19T16:46:00.000-08:00

For the next seven days I'll be posting photographs only. I'm feeling quiet.

Well

2008-11-19T08:19:00.000-08:00

We have been sick, each of us taking our turn, some of us two or three at a time. Please pardon the abandoned blog this last week. I'll be back tomorrow to begin a photo series about which I'm quite excited.

Homes within the home

2008-11-11T04:09:00.000-08:00

We have a joke about yurt living - "We don't just throw things in the corner!"

Except moving a house, albeit a small one, into a yurt makes for a great big mess. For way too long now, we have had piles, heaps, mountains, stacks, and (Patrick's favorite) inverted pyramids of STUFF all over the place. We needed to find homes within our home for all the things we hauled up here with us. On Sunday we did just that. Books lined up on the right shelves, art supplies alighted at an accessible height, dishes created a lovely rainbow in the cupboard, cardboard boxes collapsed and trooped off to be recycled.

Isidore was delighted to become reacquainted with a wide expanse of floor. He has decided to take on the chore of cleaning it each evening so that he can continue to enjoy after-dinner sock skating.

Sunday, with syrup

2008-11-09T09:39:00.000-08:00

Extra fun from school

2008-11-08T07:26:00.000-08:00

Our homeschool program just moved into a marvelous new facility and expanded its library. This week we borrowed a nifty electronics kit. It has been a nice way for Patrick to get in on the learning fun. It has all the pieces that come in a regular electronics kit, but they all just snap together, making it manageable for Isidore's little hands. Naturally they bypassed the simple stuff at the beginning of the project book and went right for the laser gun, followed by the the space battle.

I hear the school also has telescopes, so we might plan a few heavenly lessons next month.

Chilly Pop

2008-11-06T06:17:00.000-08:00

Our morning temperatures are swinging lower and lower now. Using a woodstove to warm up the house means really being in touch with how much energy we use to stay warm. Each log must be purchased, stacked, carried in and then placed in the flames, never to be seen again. The woodpile is lovely and large as autumn descends, but then it we watch as already it begins to shrink.

Over at an environmental blog I like to read, http://www.crunchychicken.blogspot.com/ , she has a challenge going called Freeze yer Buns. The idea is that we conserve energy by staying a little cooler in the winter than we might have before. For households with a thermostat, this means setting it a little lower. For us, it means not starting a fire if we're only a little chilly, or letting it go out during the day while we are active and moving around or going outside. Not only does this make eco-friendly sense, it saves us money. So, here we go, the Works Family is joining the challenge. Brrr.

Cozy

2008-11-04T08:42:00.000-08:00

The kids and I blew in the door from an exciting but very chilly day at our home school program's new site oh so glad to find Patrick had lit a fire in our wood stove. He had water simmering in the kettle and plenty of wood for the rest of the evening. I spent a few perfect minutes rocking by the fire with my book, my tea and my slippers, listening to the rain on the roof.

Thank you, my dear.

Welcome November

2008-11-01T05:39:00.000-07:00

Rain followed on the heels of the windy day we saw a few days ago. Elizabeth and Isidore couldn't be stopped from dashing right out into it. Aliana went to find her slippers and hat. I put on soup for dinner.

We all enjoyed the sound of the rain on the yurt roof. It's a special sound. We are very cozy and well-insulated, but there isn't a lot of thickness separating the interior of our home from the weather outside, certainly not as much as in a tradional wooden house. As a result, each raindrop makes its arrival known. When it really pours down we are all forced to pause in our conversations and listen to Mother Nature's voice for a time.

Halloween

2008-10-31T05:37:00.001-07:00

Autumn blows in

2008-10-30T20:21:00.000-07:00

Funny, isn't it, how the trees shed their clothing just as we start to bundle up?

Yesterday saw a brief but intense windstorm that whipped many of the remaining golden poplar leaves off the branches above us and sent them soaring far across the pasture.

Fall is an awfully good name.

I love the dentist!

2008-10-30T04:05:00.000-07:00

That's what the boy who sobbed and squeezed mommy's hand with a amazing strength exclaimed to his sister when he was finished with his check-up.

It is so darn hard to make my little ones do things they don't want to. I'm reminded by the sequence of events at the dentist's office, though, that I'm supposed to push my baby birds to test those wings now and then.

Patrick's Blog

2008-10-29T05:30:00.000-07:00

Patrick and I now have dueling kitten photographs. You'll have to look at his blog to see the superior shot.

www.patrickworksphotography.blogspot.com

Poem of the week

2008-10-28T20:47:00.000-07:00

Books to the ceiling,
Books to the sky,
My piles of books are a mile high.
How I love them,
How I need them.
I'll have a long beard by the time I read them.

By Arnold Lobel

Before Dawn

2008-10-28T04:32:00.000-07:00

Our family wakes up early these days. At least for a week or two, Patrick is working a shift that begins at 4:15 AM. He and I have always watched each other suspiciously from opposite sides of the divide between cheerful morning people and night owls. Can you guess who's who?

For me this radical change has been a slightly uncomfortable pleasure. Getting up out of the warm bed is tough, but my reward is the quiet, still space of time ahead of me. I relish an hour of Internet addiction time, tidy up the house, get something of some sort rising or fermenting or stewing. Around the time the light begins to fill in the details of my view out the window I bundle up and head out with my milking bowl.

The world outside is really pretty raucous in the early morning. The hungry cows spot me as I step out the door. They don't moo so much as bellow. The roosters have been crowing for quite a while now, and when I open the coop they flap past my face in their hurry to get out to take care of chicken-business. The goats chime in next, saying good morning in three distinct voices. The geese and ducks splash and quarrel. As I milk, in the distance I hear cars taking children to the bus stop and dogs barking at those cars.

As I step in the door bearing milk and eggs Isidore is up and wants to know if we can get out the school books and get to work. He adores the math and reading books we began using a few weeks ago. Last week he began to really read, to sound out unfamiliar words. Though he enjoyed schoolwork already, this breakthrough energized him. After we do the brief lessons from the books he asks me to write down words for him to read. This game is still novel for both of us. After he tires of reading to me, I take my turn reading aloud. We dive into the workings of the human body, cowboy stories, and lots and lots of Halloween tales. Elizabeth joins us under the blanket on the couch, usually adding a poetry book to the pile. She has been rhyming words since she could speak, and loves to listen to poetry read aloud. I do wonder where that will take her. If Aliana is home we make room for her and let ourselves sink deep into the world of The Hobbit for awhile, our latest daily pleasure.

I am so glad they weren't in one of the cars bound for the bus stop this morning.

Introducing Phoebe

2008-10-27T04:07:00.000-07:00

On All Hallows Eve we will have two black felines stalking the house. Aliana has chosen a black cat costume this year, and we have been enjoying the antics of an inky little kitten for the last few weeks. Dear Charlie, the friendly old guy who was living with Patrick when I met him, had to be buried on the hill this summer. That left the Works family very sad and catless.

Naturally Phoebe immediately became Elizabeth's favorite stuffed animal, and though she is often frustrated by this particular toy's self-will, most of the time Phoebe remains patiently curled up in Ellie's arms for quite some time.

The Trees on the Hill

2008-10-26T07:05:00.000-07:00

It gives me a feeling of peace greater than I can describe to listen to my children tell me about the trees on the hill and share a glimpse of the sacred games they play there among the birds and leaves, rocks and moss.

In exchange I reveal a dusty page from my childhood, when those branches were a tiny bit smaller, those rocks a fraction younger.

Rhythm

2008-10-23T05:16:00.000-07:00

We begin to feel a rhythm in our days and weeks. Living in an itsy-bitsy house forces us all to spend a great deal of time outdoors, and as a result we all seem to feel the change of seasons here in a way that we never did before. As a mother and homemaker I have always longed to mark the passage of time with something more than Thanksgiving turkey, Christmas cards and chocolate Easter bunnies. It seems like the things that show up on store shelves at the appropriate time of year represent little pieces of the rituals and traditions that guided our forebears through their lives. As I have been unpacking boxes and creating a home out of the things we brought with us I have been giving thought to making a dynamic space that echoes the tones and shades of the world outside our door. I want our den to be comfortable and to follow along with Mother Nature's decorating scheme.

We have been...

2008-10-23T05:00:00.001-07:00

Baking rye bread, unpacking boxes, eating Grandma's banana cake and rescuing dinosaurs from tar pits.

Swerving

2008-10-18T06:40:00.000-07:00

That screeching of tires and slamming of brakes you heard was the Works Family. We got a little off course, but we're back on track now. In lots of ways.

Stuck in Lodi

2008-04-26T10:07:00.000-07:00

This blog is coming to you today from beautiful Lodi, California. Patrick is working on a national (!) advertising campaign for the KOA. We are staying in one of the darling little cabins they offer while he shoots all day. The kids will be modeling for some of his shots around the pool and playground later in the day, but for now they are enjoying a very large television and real cheerios. I am going to ignore the internet for the rest of the day and read the entire newspaper.

Cheers!

Mr. Misterio Speaks

2008-04-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

This evening I paused in my work to cuddle with Isidore for a few minutes. Lying in my lap, he told me, "I wish I could live life over and over again." I asked him why he wanted to do that, to which he replied, "So I could be a baby again and nurse, and then grow up again and be like I am now, over and over again."

Okay.

and zee 'air cut

2008-04-16T21:09:00.001-07:00

I have failed at my Buy Nothing Challenge. I got my hairs cut. And blow dried. It felt great. I haven't had a haircut in years. Here it is. I like it.

Mr. Misterio

2008-04-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

When Isidore was born my darling Auntie Deedee crocheted him a beautiful soft blue blanket. He has slept with it just about every night since then. As a newborn we swaddled him in it and called him the blue burrito. A couple of years ago he started calling it his woopee. For several months now it has been doing double duty as a super-hero cape. Daily he ties it around his neck and leaps off the couch to assault his sisters, as any brother ought to. His super-powers are awesome.

But, incredibly, they just got much, much stronger.

On Friday at the farmers market we were in line for churros. Yum. They have become our Friday evening market treat of choice lately. I felt a little tug on my hand. Super-boy had spotted some capes for sale at a nearby stall. Mean old mom pointed out that he had a perfectly wonderful cape already. Didn't he love his blue cape? I went back to my churro purchase.

By time I was taking my first bite of deep-fried goodness Isidore had been transformed into Mr. Misterio.

Patrick confessed that as a little boy he had always wanted a real cape. Not a pillow case or a homemade cape, but the real deal. So when Isidore of the crocheted-blanket-tied-around-his neck-cape tugged on his hand, there was no hesitation.

That night Patrick's old friend Eric came up for a visit. When Mr. Misterio put on Jimi Hendrix, Eric brought out his guitar. Mr. Misterio gleefully whipped out his own ax, recruited Aliana for piano, Patrick on the harmonica and Elizabeth on the ukulele. They had quite a session.

Apologies to Rory for the foot on the piano, I swear we don't do that all the time. And yes, that is a lampshade on Aliana's head.

Zo, zee znailz.....

2008-04-16T20:00:00.001-07:00

We ate 'em! First we starved them for a couple of days, then we plunked the lot in boiling water for a minute. Once out of the bath they slipped easily out of their shells. We sauteed them with homegrown garlic and butter and then...

Aliana chowed down! Isidore and Elizabeth decided not to partake, but Aliana loved them. She is a big fan of clams and mussels, and we all agreed they taste just like clams. We will be collecting more next week to make a main dish meal with pasta.

Long Days, Crappy Food

2008-04-15T18:57:00.000-07:00

Last month I signed up for Path to Freedom's 100-foot diet challenge. We have had a lot of fun dreaming up homegrown meals. We've scoured our cookbooks for egg recipes, stayed up late talking about ideas for dishes, remembering things our relatives made. We've all greatly enjoyed planning our meals.

The problem has been finding the time to make them. The past few weeks the shop has opened its jaws wide and eaten us. Sometimes owning one's own business kinda sucks. I love spending my days working with my partner. I really appreciate being able to bring the kids to work instead of dropping them off at daycare. But I don't like it when everything breaks and people get mad at me. There are days when the idea of punching out at five o'clock and going home sounds delicious.

I know there are people who work long hours and fit cooking from scratch into their busy schedules. I would like to be one of them. Some days I wake up early and use the pressure cooker to whip up some variation of rice and beans and vegetables. It makes everyone's day better to eat a real meal instead of something that came out of a box. It's the logistics of it that kill me, though. I have to get up early enough to have enough time to cook it, then I have to have clean tupperware to use for transport. At the shop we have to have clean dishes and silverware. Then after the food is eaten dishes have to be done at the shop and the tupperware have to make it back home for the next day's meal. It all theoretically works fine, but the reality is that usually one of the pieces of the chain end up missing. I didn't wash the tupperware, or get up early enough, or maybe when we get to the shop we don't have clean dishes at lunchtime. The result is way too much expensive, salty processed food for our meals at the shop.

So, we have lots of homegrown menus up our sleeves for the weeks to come.

I am sure that things at the shop will get easier, and we will find more time to cook wholesome meals again. When Patrick and I met and were courting, as he likes to say, we cooked together all the time. It was a wonderful way to get to know each other. We long for the kind of days that allow time to chat as one of us chops the garlic and the other stirs the sauce. Cooking with the kids is also such wonderful time together. I love to watch little hands holding giant spoons.

So... stay tuned for more 100-foot diet meals. Such plans we have in store!

No picky eaters allowed!

2008-04-10T17:52:00.000-07:00

My family is amazing. The bunch of us are all weirdos, but we either don't care or don't know, depending upon the individual in question. That's really why we're homeschooling, to avoid the embarassment of sending them out into public. Just kidding. I think.

This morning Isidore was complaining because we were having fried eggs and sliced oranges for breakfast again. Ever practical (see my post from March 26) Aliana pointed out that we have lots of homegrown eggs right now, so we should enjoy them. She explained that eggs are healthy protein filled food, and that oranges help our bodies fight colds and lower cholesterol. I simply stated, for the seven hundred twenty fifth time (so maybe I'm exagerating) that I will not tolerate picky eaters in my family.

Did either of these attempts sway dear Isidore? Nope. Breakfast was eaten under threat of force.

After he managed to finish his meal without dying of boredom from eating eggs and oranges for the third time this week he scampered outside with his sisters to collect snails from the garden for tomorrow's dinner.

Yes, the child who fights over consuming two of the most common items on an american grocery list thinks it's a great idea to eat a creature not many people on this continent would even consider food.

The kids are all very involved in what we eat. They eagerly peruse the seeds catalogues just as I do. They help to plan the garden, plant the seeds and as it grows they water, weed and harvest. Some of my very favorite memories of my time with my children are in the garden. When I signed us up for the 100 foot diet challenge they cheered me on. We have been brainstorming, and realized that in the spring the snail population explodes. In years past we fed buckets of them to the chickens. This year we're going to cook them with a little garlic and butter and eat them ourselves.

Yum.

King of the Clutter Busters

2008-04-05T11:55:00.001-07:00

I'm a bad partner. Really. Here's the story. We have been rearranging and cleaning the shop this week. A lot of junk is gone and it's much easier to share our working space with three kids now. They have a nice chunk of floor space for drawing, legoes, school work, and watching movies. It's in a corner of the back room so we aren't trekking through their games on the way to the bathroom.

Naturally during the course of the super-fling-boogie we broke out the clutter-buster crowns. Yesterday we were still going full tilt when we had a family wander in asking about a portrait. I grabbed Patrick and they talked for awhile about locations, wardrobe and times. Eventually the family departed and only about ten minutes later did Patrick realize that, yep, he was still wearing the crown. If I were super-wife, the story wouldn't go like that. No, super-wife would have thought about a projecting a professional image and noticed the handmade paper crown on her husband's head. She would have in fact removed it before she asked him to talk to prospective clients. She would have done this even on a Friday afternoon at 5:17 after a very long day spent sneezing and dusting and telling the kids to stop fighting and then sneezing some more. She also probably wouldn't have tripped over a half-eaten bagel and a lego spaceship on the way to the backroom to summon Mr. Photographer Guy.

Yeah. So. I think we might not get that portrait job. But it was awfully fun to share a real-live belly laugh with King Clutter Buster. I'm pretty sure super-wife didn't have that in her appointment book.

I really do thank my lucky stars daily that I have the opportunity to spend my days at work with my family, even when it's really damned hard.

Song of the Week #2

2008-04-04T18:35:00.000-07:00

This week's song was selected by Aliana. She spent years learning to tell good jokes, and is quite the aficionado of all things silly. So we have a pretty goofy one this week. The first three verses came from The World Treasury of Children's Literature, a book I've had since I was a kid (Any idea where it came from, Mom?). The next part was made up as we drove to work.

Alligator Pie

Alligator pie, alligator pie,
If I don't get some I think I'm gonna die.
Give away the green grass, give away the sky,
But don't give away my alligator pie

Alligator stew, alligator stew,
If I don't get some I don't know what I'll do.
Give away my furry hat, give away my shoe.
But don't give away my alligator stew.

Alligator soup, alligator soup,
If I don't get some I thinkI'm gonna droop.
Give away my hockey-stick, give away my hoop,
But don't give away my alligator soup.

Alligator cake, alligator cake,
If I don't get some I think I'll fall in a lake.
Take away my gecko, take away my snake,
But don't take away my alligator cake.

Alligator juice, alligator juice,
If I don't get some I'll be in a noose.
Take away my chickens, take away my goose,
But don't take away my alligator juice!

Anyone else have a verse?

Words of Wisdom from the Littles

2008-04-03T15:26:00.000-07:00

Upon waking this morning Isidore's first words were, "Mom, I had a great dream!" When I asked him to tell me about it he said, "Mom, I can't explain, stuff in dreams is too complicated."

On the way to the shop today, we were exploring which family members possess the ability to roll his or her tongue. Aliana observed, "That's not very useful."

Also on the drive to work dear Elizabeth told me, "My nose can wiggle."

There you have it.

Another Challenge - Buy Nothing in April

2008-04-02T17:19:00.001-07:00

I have already signed up my unknowing family for the 100-foot Diet Challenge. Aliana was enthusiastic. The rest of the crew didn't really notice. This next one, though, is a little more strenuous than eating a delicious home-grown meal once a week.

From elsewhere in cyberspace, a blogger named Crunchy Chicken has challenged us to stop buying stuff for the entire month of April. You get to buy food, medicine and essentials, but not stuff.

Here's how she lays it out:

No new clothes
No new gadgets
No new furniture or housewares
No salon services
No makeup
No tools
No whatever the hell else people buy

Here's her page: http://crunchychicken.blogspot.com/2008/03/buy-nothing-challenge.html

I can't actually rope Patrick into this one, but the kids and I are in! Here goes.

Someone had to do it

2008-04-02T15:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Patrick and Isidore attended opening day at the Oakland A's stadium. This left Aliana, Elizabeth and I with a free night at home. So, you see, we cleary had to stop by the grocery store for potato chips, ice cream and junky pizza. After stuffing ourselves silly we played Twister. Probably should have reversed the order of those two activities. We finished up our estrogen evening by climbing in bed to cuddle up and read aloud from Bridge to Terabithia until my voice faded. Happy hens we were!

Our Plum Tree

2008-03-31T22:24:00.000-07:00

The thing I think I will miss most about the little red house when we leave is the plum tree. It's not a very productive tree, and the fruit is tiny, but Patrick and I were married under it's branches. Then a few years later it was in full bloom on the stormy January night Elizabeth was born. Every year we have told her that it blooms as a gift for her birthday, and we have come to call it Elizabeth's tree. I mourn to leave it, but we will remember the joy we have felt under and in it's branches, picking the fruit it creates to pass on its life, making vows to entwine our lives, and bearing a new life of our own. We will try to take a cutting or plant a pit from the harvest this year. I sure hope we are successful, but even if we aren't, I will always remember Elizabeth's plum tree.

Another Omelet!?

2008-03-31T21:07:00.000-07:00

As I considered my options for our second 100-foot meal, I was at first sort of annoyed that my ingredient list this week isn't any different than it was last week. "What am I going to write about if we just eat the same thing again? How boring. 'Look, here's another omelet. End of post'."

It occured to me only when I was photographing the meal that eating eggs again is anything but boring. It is in fact miraculous. I happen to think that eggs may well be the most beautiful thing found in mother nature. I never tire of finding a warm egg nestled in the hay in the barn. It really actually makes me feel excited and special every single time I find one. I never just rush it in the house and stick it in the egg carton in the refrigerator. No, every time I come across a newly laid egg I cradle it in my palm and marvel at how perfectly designed such a thing is, from a human or a chicken perspective.

For a hen, an egg is a way to raise a whole lot of babies at once and therefore insure that some of them will survive to make more chickens. It amazes me that an egg can wait weeks in the cold before a hen decides she has laid enough to spend a few weeks sitting on the nest. Her warmth helps the previously dormant creature inside that shell quickly grow into a perfect little chick, ready to walk and peep and eat the day it hatches.

For those of us with opposable thumbs and slightly larger brains, the egg is no less awesome. Here is a portable food storage device like no other. Eggs keep much longer than most of us think, and really don't need to be stored in as cold a place as our refrigerator. We keep them there out of habit, but a farm-fresh egg will keep in a cool place like a cellar for weeks and weeks. And for those of us who eat with the seasons, the egg is a celebration of spring. Though supermarket eggs are available 365 days a year, our hens only recently began laying again after taking a break during the short, dark days of winter. The first few eggs felt like tiny miracles! We carefully considered how to prepare them. As the days lengthened the girls gave us more eggs each day. Now we find between 6 and 8 every morning.

This morning I sauteed some of the volunteer arugula that just grows in the yard and tucked it inside the omelet, and sprinkled chives on top. I took some pictures, then Aliana and Ellie and I sat down to eat. It was delicious. It tasted just right. It sounds kind of trite, but it tasted like spring, like what we ought to be eating on a morning in march. The girls and I felt really fortunate to be eating such tasty food from our own homestead. It's not a glamorous life, but it is satisfying and fun.

Friday

2008-03-28T16:59:00.000-07:00

Isidore the photographer

2008-03-27T11:12:00.000-07:00

When Isidore was attending preschool for awhile Patrick and I were naturally asked to take pictures at school for events and yearbook pages and things. Once when I had my camera along Isidore asked if he could use it. He uses both my camera and Aliana's all the time, so I thought nothing of it. A few minutes later he came crying to me because another parent at the school took the camera away from him, thinking he wasn't supposed to be using it. I explained that he had my permission to take pictures, but the other parent couldn't quite believe I would be so foolish as to hand such an expensive piece of equipment to a four-year old. Hey, I figure if I start his training now he'll be taking over sooner, and off to retirement I'll go!

Here are a few of his shots.

The really blurry one is Elizabeth somersalting. I love that one.

Victory Garden

2008-03-26T17:22:00.000-07:00

Planting and caring for the garden this year is a little tricky. We will be living on the mountain by the end of the summer, perhaps even sooner, so I am planting things up there this spring. I’ve run into a bit of trouble because I'm not up there every day to plant and because watering is not as easy as turning on the hose anymore. Up there I have to find a way to get the water from the spring that's halfway down the hill to the thirsty plants at the top.

Right now the way I accomplish this is to use a plastic barrel to haul the water up in the back of the truck and park slightly higher than the garden. I connect a hose to the barrel. What I hope to be doing by next year is using the strength of my darling mule, Dina, instead of the truck. She is eager to work; I just need to find more time to train her to drive. That, too, will be easier when we are living there full time.

The opportunity for the kids to grow up smack dab in the middle of nowhere sets my soul at ease in a way I thought would never happen, but the chance to feed my family also thrills me. In a few years we will probably be close to self-sufficient. I’ve been working on this goal all the years we’ve been in the little red house, but now I have acres to work with! Each year we set aside some money to spend on edible plants and necessary tools. Last year we added 12 fruit trees to the yard. I have moved them to the mountain, and most of them seem to be in good shape. This year I ordered lots and lots of seeds so that I can have enough for this year and the next in case my seed-saving attempts don’t go well. I am saving the extra in tightly sealed jars in the refrigerator. In each jar I have a silica packet to keep them dry. I’ll put them to the fridge at the shop after we move up to the land of no electricity.

Up on the mountain I am planting lots of different edible perennials. I’ve already put in hazelnuts, huckleberries, strawberries, rhubarb, and wintergreen. On the way are seaberry, honeyberry, fig, red and golden raspberries, elderberry, kiwi, wolfberry, and a green tea plant.
Most of what I ordered this year came from Territorial Seed Company in Oregon. They come highly recommended for their care with seed trials and seed storage. I am using two books written by the former owner of the company, Steve Solomon. One is called Growing Vegetables West of the Cascades, the other is Gardening When it Counts: Growing Food in Hard Times. I like the first book because the climate he writes about is like mine, not like most gardening books whose authors assume you actually have a summer and a winter. I just have a wet season and a dry season. The latter title has very good advice about growing vegetables with little or no irrigation.

Why we should all be like Aliana

2008-03-26T13:01:00.001-07:00

My oldest child is the most practical person I have ever known. She prefers the most direct way to accomplish any task, even if it’s more difficult, nobody else does it that way, or she looks silly doing it. She also really takes advice to heart. It doesn’t generally occur to her to ask for it, but if someone points out a way she can improve whatever she is doing, she tries it out.

She has been working on drawings of dragons and other strange creatures that her Nonna is going to make into a quilt. I noticed that the work wasn’t her best and made some suggestions about how she could use the direction of her strokes to create realistic texture. Like I actually know anything about drawing- give me a camera, thank you very much. But she listened to me and then dove into a pile of paper and crayons and came out the next day with a dozen gorgeous drawings.

I am very proud of her for her effort, but what really stands out to me is what she didn’t do. I imagine what I might have said to her had she taken it upon herself to critique a lousy meal I set in front of her for dinner. I have to confess it probably wouldn’t have been so polite. I might have defended my gummy rice and overcooked broccoli as acceptable, made an excuse about having a long day, or perhaps found something to criticize about her in return. I’m pretty sure most of us wouldn’t have behaved as she did upon receiving unsolicited advice.

She thanked me for my help and went to work.

I’m going to try that next time.

Ostara

2008-03-24T20:35:00.000-07:00

We had a lovely little celebration. It began with chocolate bunnies for breakfast and ended with egg-salad sandwiches for dinner. Each of the kids received a plant for the garden and some art supplies. Isidore went right to work on the workbook the Easter bunny left him.

Isidore and Aliana melted my heart by sharing with Elizabeth as they found eggs in the yard , and even leaving some easy-to-find ones for her. When they returned to the house they divided them up equally. Did I mention how much I love my kids?

Using natural materials for egg dyes worked wonderfully. Aliana and I both voted to use them from now on. Clean up was easier and the leftovers were a lovely thank you gift for the hens.

The bright yellow/orange eggs were dyed in a bath of yellow onion skins and turmeric. The brownish-purple marbled effect was made with grape juice. We used raw eggs and hard-boiled them right in the dye bath. I didn't get a picture of the gorgeous purple we got by just rubbing cut beets on cooked eggs. We had no success with the red cabbage to make teal. Next time we will cook some eggs first and then soak them overnight in the cabbage water.

An entirely un-original thought

2008-03-24T19:42:00.000-07:00

I love my kids so much it hurts.

I love it when Elizabeth tells me her name is "Ellie-Belly Penelope Works".

I love it when Izzy asks me if I will be his cuddle bug.

I love it when Aliana reminds me not to bite my nails.

It's Monday, and it's already been a really long week.

Song of the Week

2008-03-22T13:57:00.000-07:00

Every week or so the kids and I try to learn the lyrics to a new song. This week we are working on Frog Went A-Courtin'. We have this version: http://www.amazon.com/Frog-Went-Courtin-John-Langstaff/dp/015230214X but I found a website that offers a much longer version of the ballad: http://home.earthlink.net/~highying/froggy/froggy2.html

The version we are learning goes like this:

Frog went a-courtin, he did ride,

Sword and pistol by his side.

When upon his high horse set,

His boots they shone as black as jet.

He rode right up to the mouse's hall,

Where he most tenderly did call:

"Oh, Mistress Mouse, are you within?"

"Yes, kind frog, I sit to spin."

He set miss mousie on his knee,

"Pray, Miss Mouse, will you marry me?"

"Without my Uncle Rat's consent

I would not marry the president!"

Then Uncle Rat he soon comes home,

"Who's been here since I've been gone?"

"A pretty little dandyman," says she,

"Who swears he wants to marry me."

"Where will the wedding breakfast be?"

"Way down yonder in the hollow tree."

"What will the wedding breakfast be?"

"Three green beans and a black-eyed pea."

"Who will make the wedding gown?"

"Old Miss Rat from Pumpkin town."

So Uncle Rat gave his consent,

And that's the way the marriage went.

The first to come in was a little white moth,

To spread on the table cloth.

Next to come in was a big black bug,

On his back was a cider jug.

Next to come in was Mister Coon,

Waving about a silver spoon.

Next to come in was a spotted snake,

Passing 'round the wedding cake.

Next to come in was a bumblebee,

A banjo buckled on his knee.

Next to come in was a nimble flea,

To dance a jig for the bumblebee.

Next to come in was the old gray goose,

She picked up her fiddle and she cut loose.

Next to come in were two little ants,

Fixin' 'round to have a dance.

Next to come in was a little ol' fly,

He ate up all the wedding pie.

Next to come in was a little chick,

He ate so much it made him sick.

The last to come in was the old tom cat.

He said, "I'll put a stop to that!"

The frog and the mouse they went to France,

And this is the end of my romance.

Frog's bridle and saddle are laid on the shelf.

If you want anymore you'll have to sing it yourself!

First 100 foot diet meal

2008-03-22T13:24:00.001-07:00

We didn't have our customary special Friday night meal last night, so our first 100% homegrown meal was breakfast. An omelet was the natural choice.

Our ingredients were eggs from our faithful hens, homemade feta cheese, and some chives snipped from the garden. We also made a nice pot of homegrown chamomile tea. It was simple and wonderful. We had a bright, sunny morning meal before we all headed off to work.

Under the teapot there you can see the table runner that my genius sister (we dropped the in-law part awhile ago) Francine made. She is the crazy quilting queen. She creates one-of-a-kind pieces for sale, if you are interested.

Comments

2008-03-22T11:44:00.001-07:00

I think I've removed the annoying barriers to posting a comment. You can choose to be anonymous and then you just have to type in the funny-shaped letters in the box. Try to pronounce those. It's good for a laugh.

Spring magic

2008-03-21T15:54:00.001-07:00

Most mornings at least one of the kids comes out help me with the chores. I milk and feed the goats while Aliana cares for her rabbits. Taking care of the chickens, though, usually falls to the earliest riser of the day. Heading out to the yard in the morning sun we all enjoy seeing the girls come flapping, hopping and running to eat their morning ration of cracked corn and kitchen scraps. As the days have lengthened the chance to do chicken duty has become a more and more powerful incentive to get out of bed. This is because the hens have a very good clock in their little chicken brains, and as we enjoy more and more daylight they lay more and more eggs. Another part of their bird instinct tells them to hide those eggs. So our dear girls lay their eggs all over the place!

This is where the children come in. After the girls have settled down for breakfast the kids take their baskets and have an egg hunt.

Yep, every morning. We have nice, neat little nesting boxes that we built, but the hens ignore those in favor of dark corners of the shed and inviting bushes. The first child who makes it outside in the morning has the best chance at finding the real prize- a green egg. Two of our dozen or so hens are Americaunas. They lay naturally green-shelled eggs. Ladybug and Siren are their names, and they are getting old for chickens, so the green eggs don't come as regularly as they used to. Therefore discovering a green egg has become a special event.

As we approached Easter this year we began to save up the green eggs, as well as the white ones. This year we are going to try using dyes made of natural materials to color the eggs. I found a list here:

http://www.lakewinds.com/store/Natural-Egg-Dye-Recipes-W4698C18760.aspx

I was also pleasantly surprised to find a list of natural dyeing materials in the magazine that our grocery store puts out. Here here!

Isidore reminded me that last year the Easter bunny left some muddy paw prints on the kitchen table when he ate the carrot we left out for him. I do hope he will be a little tidier this year. I wonder if he knows the kids have had so much practice hunting for eggs. He better hide them really well.

Paparazzi

2008-03-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

I think we might see Patrick next in the checkout line at the grocery store. National Enquirer here he comes!

http://www.register-pajaronian.com/V2_news_articles.php?heading=0&story_id=3737&page=73

Brown shoes and pretty dresses

2008-03-20T16:27:00.000-07:00

Elizabeth has been referred to as "the carbon-fiber girl". She possesses amazing strength (of will) but packs it into a very small package . She began speaking in full sentences about five minutes after she was born, but has remained rather small for her age. We have gradually become used to hearing her try to use sophisticated reason to argue for three year old goals like having a larger helping of chocolate pudding than her brother. Along with the iron will, the shortest member of our family makes up for her diminutive size with a well-developed sense of fashion. This is NOT something she has inherited from me. On the other hand, Patrick can make the whole family laugh when he asks one of the kids to get his brown shoes from the shelf. This chore can involve many trips to the shelf for the poor kid assigned to the job.

"No, not those. The other brown shoes."

He has many, many brown shoes.

This is actually how we keep the children in such good health; lots of fresh vegetables and running back and forth to the closet for dad.

Elizabeth recently gave up pants. There is no arguing with the will of a three year old girl when it comes to what she is going to wear. Dresses and skirts it is. And clickety-clackety shoes. She also changes outfits approximately seventy-eight times in each twenty-four hour period, along with her mood.

So, we have a running deal now. Mom or Dad puts up the cash for a new dress from time to time, and the curly haired one is required to model said frock in the studio before enjoying a meal involving ketchup or any recreation that exposes the pristine garment to dirt. After the clean dress is recorded she is free to get back to life and be a dirty little ragamuffin girl.

100 Foot Diet Challenge

2008-03-20T11:09:00.001-07:00

I have decided to participate in an online challenge proposed by the gang at Path to Freedom. If you don't know who they are you should. They give me hope even on days when I can't bring myself to listen to the news because it's all so dismal. Click the link on the top left of this page to go to their site.

The challenge is called the 100 Foot Diet Challenge. Check it out here:

http://urbanhomestead.org/journal/2008/01/06/100-foot-diet-challenge-launch/

The idea is to grow a portion of our own food because having cheap food filling our grocery store shelves all the time depends on an infrastructure that isn't going to remain stable over the coming years. For an explanation of why I say that, see one of the other links at the top left of the page, Casaubon's Book. She writes far more eloquently than I do, and presents news and information about climate change, peak oil and the economy, as well as practical ways to deal with the changes ahead of us.

:: Guidelines ::

A meal must be comprised of food grown on your property or garden plot (literally or figuratively within - 100 feet - of your front or back door). If not from BACKYARD, then Locally produced (PTF’s addition)If not LOCALLY PRODUCED, then Organic.If not ORGANIC, then Family farm.If not FAMILY FARM, then Local business.If not a LOCAL BUSINESS, then Fair Trade.

I hope we will be eating at least one meal per week created from foods grown in our garden or barnyard. We could actually probably manage more than one, even this time of year. We have created a tradition in our family of sharing a special meal each Friday night. I am planning to try to make our Friday meals out of home-grown ingredients.

So... it's March, and in the garden right now we have some collards that are going to go to seed pretty soon, a few straggly leeks, some volunteer greens and assorted herbs. The chickens are laying six or seven eggs every day and our dear goat Joanna is blessing us with about a half a gallon of milk every day. That milk can be magically turned into yogurt, mozzarella or ricotta. In the freezer we have several packages of frozen home-raised goat and chicken. In the pantry we have home-raised chicken broth and canned chicken.

What wealth! Our family has been reading the Little House books aloud for more than a year now. We are making our way through the last one now. Have you read The Long Winter? It causes one to appreciate food in a new light. It should be required reading for picky eaters.

I'll tell you what I come up with for tomorrow's dinner!

Photographs

2008-03-17T10:25:00.000-07:00

Hey family people, if you want me to print copies of any of the photographs on the blog for you, just leave me a comment or email me and I will do so and send them along to you.

I'm a Criminal

2008-03-16T21:00:00.000-07:00

I imagine you might have heard that an appellate court in California has ruled that homeschooling is illegal unless the parent is a certified teacher.

http://www.bayareanewsgroup.com/multimedia/mn/news/homeschool_opinion_030708.pdf

Wow. So until our lawmakers fix things up I am living on the wrong side of the law. Sure guys, and is is also illegal to kiss my kids' booboos when they skin their knees, limit after-dinner treats to one per day, or take them to the library? For our family, learning with our children is just part of how we choose to live our lives. The very idea that other people think they have a right to tell us whether or not we are permitted to do so boggles my mind. I could go on all night, but I won't. I don't think this ruling will be upheld by higher courts, so I don't worry about any real impact on our lives.

Strawberries

2008-03-15T18:03:00.000-07:00

We are blessed to have many friends and neighbors who work for the strawberry farms which surround us here. During berry season they share... a lot. I haven't bought strawberries in years, but we have a cupboard full of homemade strawberry jam. Years past I also sliced and froze bags of them for baking. This spring, though, I am anticipating living without refrigeration. By the end of the summer our family will be living on the mountain full time. So I bought a book called Preserving Food without Freezing or Canning: Traditional Techniques Using Salt, Oil, Sugar, Alcohol, Vinegar, Drying, Cold Storage, and Lactic Fermentation.
The simplicity of the ideas in it is astonishing. I read it as I sat at my kitchen table with Rory. She was reading something of her own, but every five minutes I interupted her with another exclamation that usually went something like, "No way! That's amazing, why don't I know that?" or "Why do we can food with heat again?"

My favorite recipe goes like this:

Ingredients
Blueberries
Honey

Instructions
Put blueberries in jars. Brush jar lids with honey. Screw lids on jars. Will keep 1-2 years.

Yep, you read that right. 1-2 years. There is similar recipe for tomatoes, which is one canned food I would be hard-pressed to cook (or live) without.

My ideas about what our pantry and our meals will be like when we are off-grid are still forming. This book has done a lot to broaden my thinking about how I will preserve and prepare food.

The Zoo

2008-03-15T15:50:00.000-07:00

Last week our intrepid friend Donna took all three kids to the San Francisco Zoo. They all really wanted to see the newborn giraffe. Unfortunately the mother wouldn't nurse, so they weren't able to see the baby. As you can see in the pictures, though, our dear Aliana had a very special moment with daddy giraffe. She fed him several bananas with her hands, and then the handler suggested she try something a little different.

I must say I personally would not have said yes, but our tallest child is definately a friend of animalkind. Whenever a chicken needs to be caught for wing clipping or dinner she actually becomes a member of the flock. She bends over, uses her arms as wings and begins to speak chicken. I swear. She imitates their happy little clucks and peeps and assures them that she's just a slightly larger breed, and then just scoops one up by the feet and presents it to me proudly.

One morning several years ago I was brushing my teeth when Aliana appeared at the bathroom door with a quart size mason jar in her hand.

"Bellemere?" she said.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Um, I have a wound."

"What happened?"

"A gopher bit me."

I swallowed my toothpaste and at that point noticed that there was actually a very large live rodent in the jar, and a lot of blood on Aliana'a other hand.

I took the jar from her, covered it with a heavy book and called Donna of the zoo trip, who's a nurse.

After the wound was cleaned and the gopher disposed of I was able to ask Aliana how exactly she came to have a gopher bite.

It turns out it was actually in my defense. Before you imagine a rabid gopher throwing himself against the front door, let me explain.

She was collecting interesting bugs in the vegetable garden and saw Mr. Gopher pop his near-sighted little head out of his hole. She immediately thought of how much I love my garden and the damage he might do. She decided the thing to do would be to pick up him up and stuff him in the jar she was holding to get him out of the garden. He didn't like the plan as much as she did, and he chomped her.

This is the detail that gets me: She didn't let go. She screamed and then continued to cram him the in jar.

Aliana, the girl who is often more animal than person.

Famous

2008-03-15T15:31:00.000-07:00

Patrick is famous again. Isn't he cute? Nice sneakers, too.

Our small town paper is actually the smallest newspaper to ever be awarded a Pulitzer Prize. There, now you know.

Snip

2008-03-14T09:55:00.000-07:00

We have opened a new photography studio downtown and yesterday we held our ribbon-cutting. The studio is very small, and we were expecting around 150 bodies to show up to help celebrate and schmooz. When I opened my eyes yesterday morning after a long, mostly sleepless night with a teething, sick three-year old I saw clouds and heard... rain. Rain?! No, we CANNOT have rain. It has been sunny for two weeks, our party is today and we cannot have rain.

I suggested calling a voodoo priestess. Patrick tried the party rental store instead and ordered some pop-up tents and an outdoor heater.

The sun and the clouds took turns teasing us all day, but by party time it was sunny and glorious. Patrick made a very short speech into which he somehow managed to work a John Lennon quote. We ran out of wine and had to get more, a very good sign that we had even more people show up than we had anticipated. There was only one spill inside the studio, not caused by an inebriated guest but by the aforementioned beautifully dressed but very cranky Elizabeth. She loved the oportunity to wear a brand new, really fancy dress and eat chocolate-covered strawberries, but she was not pleased to share her daddy with "too many people!".

Isidore played his guitar and enjoyed his new plaid shoes. Several of his friends brought their parents. Aliana asked me to buy her a dress for the evening. *gasp* She also tried out dress shoes for the first time, and pronounced them uncomfortable. To avoid, in her words, a constellation of blisters, she abandoned them halfway through the evening and just played on the grass like a sensible girl.

I hate parties, and usually hide or stay very busy with something. This time though, I actually found things to talk to people about and enjoyed myself. Hmmm, I must be getting older.

Clutter Busters

2008-03-12T11:26:00.000-07:00

Clutter beware... as soon as they finish making faces.

The amazing thing is that these crowns actually work. There was an arguement over who got to take out the extra trash can at the shop today.

Old hand

2008-03-12T11:21:00.001-07:00

Spring is coming

2008-03-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

Help with the laundry

2008-03-10T10:31:00.000-07:00

Math in the afternoon

2008-03-08T15:47:00.001-08:00