The Dull Days of Winter

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.

I don't do Sudodku...

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.

Routine but not dull

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.

Shhh...it's a secret

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!

The Order of Things

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.

Homes within the home

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.

Cozy

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.

Before Dawn

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.

The Trees on the Hill

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.