January 7

Big energy in this house today...and reluctance to go out in the snow...so, on to Hullabaloo...

Some impromptu calendar making.
(Eliza was so into drawing the grid with the ruler that she originally made 10 days in the week!)
We were treated to a puppet show by Eliza. I'm not sure what it was called, but it involved a huge sunflower and 2 mice.


Instant replay.

And at the end of the day, when the girls realized how lovely the snow was out there, when it had grown much too dark to go sledding (don't tell them that the grown-up sledders just left the hill and it's nearly 11), we decided to make up for it a bit by trying maple syrup on snow. You know, like Mary and Laura. It was deeeeelish and we're gonna try it again tomorrow.

Connecting...the gumdrops

We have had a rash of good days. Flowy days. Days of connecting. And then we didn't. I have been thinking a lot of how we do things around here - the girls have some good friends here who had their first day in public school (in grades one and five) on Monday (followed by 2 snow days!), and it has stirred things a bit for us. The girls don't usually wonder too much about what goes on across the street at the elementary school, except to wonder if anyone brought pocket change for our bake sale or to lament that they are all inside on a beautiful spring day when we are in the woods. But it's normal to wonder why you're not "getting" to do what your friend is doing, never mind that you'd be in a different grade and only get to wave in her direction before and after school - they of course don't realize that. They also don't really get that you go to school every day. Every day. All day. Not when you feel like it or when you have nothing better to do. Anyway - I'm stirring it up here way more than necessary, but of course it makes me process things; I'm a muller. Then - thank heavens! - a day happened that encapsulated what I want for us on a more regular basis. In a nutshell, it went like this: we got up, things were buzzing from the start. Eliza had another story she wanted to write, and throughout the day she completed it and happily added punctuation as I read it through with her ("full stop!"). Ani decided to read our kids' cookbook and delighted that she could read enough of the words to match up with the pictures and figure out the "experiments" (all right, so recipes around here are often experiments). Eliza has been working on figuring out a second part to a song on the piano, so she spent a while noodling around until it sounded right to her. Move on to the girls reading through Ask, a new magazine Eliza is getting - this issue is all about ice (it's awesome - ice art, the ice man...), and she was actually reading parts of it to Ani and then wanted help from me on a bit that explains how ice happens. Suddenly we are playing a game - I'm turning up the heat on the stove and they're water molecules that are turning to steam and running around flailing their gaseous arms, and then I'm taking them off the stove and letting them cool to their liquid form and then I'm sticking them in the freezer - it was quick but fun and then they wanted to experiment to see how long it takes ice to become steam, and could they melt ice cubes on the stove? Run to the kitchen to heat 3 ice cubes and time how long it takes (2 minutes 37 seconds) to melt and how much longer to boil and release steam (8 more seconds)...and on and on this day went. And all it required of me was that I Be Here - available - and that I be willing to GO! All of this - which took about ten minutes total, then on to the next thing - I could have put into a little lesson, as I have in the past. Read a couple of books with them about water and ice, explain the little game to them, lead them through an experiment - and it all would have gone so much differently. As in poorly. I could have *required* that Eliza write a story about X,Y,Z, I could have put playing the piano on a list of things to do that day. The response would not have been positive. Yes, I can introduce them to new things, I can offer, but really, they are not there unless they are interested and engaged, and if I can be here and be available then we are going to have more of these days.

So. What about when your head is somewhere else, your mood is down the toilet and you're not feeling all that great? Those days happen around here, oh, about every three weeks or so. And then what? Well, I can only speak to today. Two things worked for us today (oh, the bickering! oh, the sassiness! oh, the attitude and the death stares!! really? at seven??) - going outside to sled - wheeeeeeeee! - and looking to my fellow bloggers for a little inspiration (Mom in Madison and OrdinaryLifeMagic). They never, and I really mean never, let me down...

Wintertime Snacks

The snow is falling this week, so beautiful. We stocked up on library books and books-on-tape this morning, and made sure we had the supplies for what is surely one of our favorite winter snacks - popovers with apples. Local apple butter is our perennial favorite, but the other day I cooked up some skinned apples with a little water and some cinnamon and we stuffed them into the little pocket inside the popovers...oh wow. Very very very very good. Those pockets are so handy...

Popovers (this recipe is from Pretend Soup, by Molly Katzen - we love this cookbook)

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees

Beat 2 eggs with 1 cup of milk.
Add 1 cup flour and 1/4 tsp salt. Stir these in, but do not get crazy about getting it smooth. Part of the magic is in the lumps.

Butter a muffin tin well, and fill 2/3 of the way up with the batter.
Bake in the oven - and, this is the other part of the magic, do not even think about opening the door to see how they are doing!! - for 30 minutes.
Take out and poke with a fork to let the steam out. If you don't, they will still taste delicious, but you will want to call them...Soggyflops or something. Not Popovers.

Gently stick a little butter or apples or apple butter or something else that will make your heart sing on this snowy day, into the small pocket inside and take a bite. Don't forget to make yourself something good to drink with these...they go great with warm apple cider (apples!) or some Bengal Spice tea...

January 4: snow, a walk, and Elfin John

Oy, lots of photos in this one - still getting used to the camera! First day of the winter quarter, new routine. Dan has Monday mornings to spend with us, which is a new way to approach the week. He will be leading the Homeschool Choir that I've been co-teaching for the past year (WHEW!), beginning next week, so we are planning to use Monday mornings to hike together, come home for lunch, and then walk up to choir before he disappears for the rest of the day and into the wee hours of the night. This morning was a walk to the bike path, where we had some new snow.

Hmmm, this is looking a bit like a photo montage of beautiful knitting patterns - these hats are from my mom (Mormor), and they are cherished. Our turn-around spot for the bike path is usually where the train tracks cross the path. There, in some homage to the railroad, stand two dilapidated and rusting old train cars, which offer endless fascination for us all. Today I was interested in the organic life that is taking over the decaying metal.

Dan peered through a rusted hole to find this frame from a bee hive. Another hole revealed several hives - we're wondering who put them there, and if they are active hives? They're situated right next to a meadow and an enormous garden, just perfect for some happy bees.

A nest?

It got cold pretty fast, so after an hour we were ready to head home for some apple cider and popovers. Some organizing of sewing supplies, the beginning of another story, about a flower, entitled The Beauty Uv Her, listening to a story on tape for a couple hours, through lunch and the making of dinner for our food swap.

The girls love to peel, and Anika worked on this one sweet potato for 40 minutes. Persistent, ain't she? (note to self: begin a little earlier next time) "Yams", Kale and Tofu over Udon Noodles with Spicy Peanut Sauce. When it was done, we walked it over in the snow to drop it off and came home to our own dinner, followed by an episode of the Muppet Show. Oh, yeah. I remember when I was in sixth grade, getting home from dance class on Mondays just in time to watch it at 6:30. This one featured Elton John, who, in our house, has been known as "Elfin" John since Eliza was little(-er). It suits him, don't you think? One day we had walked to the grocery around the corner (Rainbow, for you Seattlites) and there was a woman at the checkout with her groceries, wearing incredibly funky specs. Eliza stopped still, holding her breath. "Mama" she whispered. "I think that's Elfin John." I hide my smile and say, "Hm, it sure looks like Elfin, but I think he lives in England." "No, Mama," she persisted, "I am sure that is Elfin John. I have to go say hi." Mind you, she is maybe three. Shy she has never been. "Will you come with me?" Sigh. Yes, sometimes my job is to swallow my own social insecurities in order to assist my child in approaching the hip of this world. I walk over with her and help her get her attention. "Um, are you Elfin John?" The woman grins and looks at me. I grin back. "Well, no, no I'm not Elfin John, but wow, he sure is something, isn't he? I sure wouldn't mind being Elfin John." Whew. A generous soul with a sense of humour. "Oh. Well. You know, you sure look just like him!" I'm sure the woman was deeply flattered. Wouldn't you be?

January 3

Our day started with watermelon. Unlikely, but true. We'd somehow managed to get used to its green roundness in our kitchen and forgot to eat it in its prime. It was still good for a few nibbles and started one of those conversations we are likely to have many times over in the coming months...if I had a corner of the garden all to myself, I think I would like to grow...watermelons! I'll save the seeds!

We spent the morning just doing - Ani and Eliza read some new magazines to themselves, then got interested in how ice is formed, which led to an impromptu you're-water-molecules-and-i'm-turning-up-the-heat-oh-no-now-i'm-putting-you-in-the-freezer! game,which led to timing how long it took ice cubes to melt in a pot on the stove. (2 minutes, 37 seconds) Eliza then worked on finished a story she started upon waking this morning, about a Queen Fairy named Tinsel - a re-working of the Cinderella story, I believe. This is story number 3 since Christmas day, but who's counting? I was feeling up for getting outside, so out we ventured...

not much snow, but it was COLD! (I know, Wisconsin, we don't know from cold, but we're still in our warm little Seattle-Virginia bodies and this feels COLD) It was a good lesson in "say, next time let's remember that an extra sweater and snowpants would really work well in this weather, and maybe boots instead of sneakers?" The lesson cost us time outside - I think we were in the woods for maybe 20 minutes - but was hopefully well learned. The outside clothing battle is one I really try not to have, but it is difficult to let only-just healthy kids outside without enough stuff on.

The girls were squirrels in the woods, looking for nuts, and when we saw nary a squirrel nor a nut, they decided that today might be the day to make these feeders to hang in our backyard:

We decided to watch a 1973 movie version of The Borrowers, starring Eddie Albert - it was pretty funny (ahem, bad), and the girls loved it. They immediately began a game as Borrowers themselves, which then morphed into creating a lovely home for a family of Borrowers. Here it is in its early stages.

We received a sweet gift of wooden spools that used to belong to Dan's Grandma Nee - a whole box full - and they were put to good use in this little house. I'll try to get a picture of it tomorrow - it's to be left alone this evening, in hopes of luring a tiny family to nest there.

A good day, and tomorrow begins Winter Quarter...I took a cue from my sister-in-law, who routinely asks her boys what they'd like to learn about. We started a new list for the coming months, and it looks something like this: swimming, but not with lessons; karate (can I learn that on my own?); cooking; ballet; crocodiles; bunnies; more time with Papa. We have loved December with Dan - Eliza looked crestfallen this morning when she realized he was going back to school tomorrow. "I thought winter break meant he was going to be home all winter." It will be a good quarter; we are all feeling more renewed and connected than we were when fall quarter started. As hard as it is to be far from family at Christmas, it was exactly what we needed to make a good start for the next 6 months.

Everyday Birds

Trixie and I are sitting at the kitchen table, watching the birds dart in and out of our two feeders. We are fairly novice bird feeders, though I grew up with grandparents who were avid feeders of the birds (and squirrels) in their yards. Both had huge picture windows looking out onto their backyards from which, even without the large pair of binoculars always present on the sill, you could see large numbers of sparrows, wrens, cardinals, juncos, nuthatches, titmouses...and the occasional opposum who had found her way into the large squirrel house, or the rare flying squirrel we were lucky enough to spot.

We have a gallon milk jug, painted by Anika during coop last year, and a small wooden feeder, both of which hold your run of the mill millet-sunflower seed mix. We have attracted a few regulars, mostly chickadees and the occasional sparrow or the even more occasional comical red-breasted woodpecker who attempts to hang on while rummaging through the seeds for something tasty!

We have a tradition in our family that started about 4 years ago, of finding the first bird of the year, and having it be "your bird" for that year. It has been fun to feel connected to a particular species for that period of time, and we always wonder with anticipation what bird will find us when the year changes: great blue heron for 2006 (Dan swears I must have had my eyes closed until I sensed a "cool" bird nearby. He's just sore cause his was a duck.); towhee for 2007; mockingbird for 2008; junco for 2009. We have often taken a walk on New Year's day - which seems to be how we celebrate most special days of our year - and that affords more possibilities for this particular project. This year found us glued to the house, mostly due to the stomach flu passing through. I was in this very spot, trying to decide whether or not I was feeling ill, when I saw my bird - one of our regular chickadees. I felt a little let down, I'll admit, just because it wasn't one of the bluebirds from our walk last week or the pileated woodpecker that we will see once in a while traveling through the neighborhood, but really, how lovely to know that I will spend the year visiting with "my" bird and its mate.

Carolina Chickadee

Song Sparrow

The girls spent about 15 minutes running around in the cold air of the morning, and came running by the window to shout to me, "Song Sparrow!!!!!!!!!! In the backyard!!!!!!" There are several species of sparrows found here, but I've showed them various pictures and they maintain that this was the one. Another "regular" but lovely everyday bird.

Dan was also housebound and recovering for most of New Year's Day, and even though he got the girls back outside for some serious romping in the late afternoon, he told me sadly that he had not seen a bird. Not one bird. No matter! It's the first bird of the New Year, no time limit on that. So on the way to the Farmer's Market on Saturday, he finally saw his bird - the crow. It will sound funny to say, but I am a little jealous. I love the crow. But again, an everyday kind of bird. Which resonates a bit with the thoughts I'm having about the new year. I don't feel particularly "washed clean" at the new year - maybe I need to incorporate more ritual, more of the letting go of the old and contemplative inviting in of the new - but I am always up for the opportunity to push the restart button. I have not had any grand thoughts of resolutions, no long lists, no epiphany about how to reorder our lives. What I have had is a little voice present with me of late that keeps reminding me of things I should already know, things like: what you have is Now. There is no Later. All that you have is Now. Be present with it, find the joy, the meaning, the connection now, do not wait for X - for graduate school to end, for the job to come, for the girls to grow, for the spirit to speak to me in that special way that makes it All Clear.

A friend included this quote in her holiday card this year, and it was just another reminder of the power of now:

The present
is the ever moving shadow
that divides yesterday
from tomorrow.

In that lies hope.

Frank Lloyd Wright

I'm thinking more light than shadow, but the idea is there. The light of the present, holding hope, holding all that is. The everyday. It's a good place to start.

*bird images courtesy of stock images on Google - but the bluebird in the header is mine!

Last days of our visit

I definitely spoke too soon - mom and I brought in the new year in less-than-ideal style, and I spent the night on the couch, which is, you know, closer to the bathroom. Enough said. We did have some lovely moments during this trip where one or more of us was feeling well enough to enjoy each other's company! New Year's day Dan and my sister and I spent the morning playing Quiddler, while Ani had a tea party.

We loved having our family here, even in sickness - they were good company and we missed them the moment they left this morning. The afternoon was spent with dear David Attenborough and the incredible Life in the Undergrowth...perfect for a quiet day with the girls.

No contemplative New Year's post in me just yet...I'll see if I can muster one up in the coming days, but right now I have a date with some peppermint tea with elderberry syrup, and my husband.