Yesterday I had a houseful of visitors, mostly around 2 feet tall. 2 young mothers brought their little ones over for the afternoon to visit the animals, do a craft, have a snack, and create some memories.
There were 6 kids altogether, all cousins, and 2 were only a year old! One of the babies was walking albeit a bit unsteady and the other doing that half scoot/ half crawl half /upright that is fast, adorable, and dustmops, your floor all at the same time.
We kept our Beardie Lily in the basement because the hot spot on her back has reared its ugly head and is both icky to look at and painful. She however loves little kids especially if she gets to follow them around but I did not want any little hands to accidentally hurt her. So she remained in my room and every once in a while above the happy din of children I could hear her beardie sigh.
BamBam too likes little kids although mostly I think he wants to be near them to hog some of the praise and attention. But he never minds little fingers poking him in his ears or tiny hands that pull at his fuzzy coat. Cookie was a pleasant surprise as she seemed to cheerfully enjoy all the hubbub and did not flinch when she was tripped over or tugged about. The two lady cats were wise enough to simply disappear but PaleFace likes adoring fans and he gamely put up with having his tail pulled by the babies just so the 'big kids' would admire him.
The kids were beautiful, well mannered, and smart. Their mom's are doing a great job. I am so glad they came. We knew each other in the past and have renewed a more equal footing friendship via facebook. Its the nice benefit to social media I think. The way it has of helping people to connect, reconnect, or connect in new ways.
The visit though did have a touch of sadness in the room which we only briefly spoke about. The sadness is this: I first met the girls when 18 years ago when they were 14 and 20. Their mom was a foster parent and the first person I met and befriended in Carver.
Back then I was just 30, new in town, a young mother with 7 kids, the oldest only 8. Their mom ran the foster/adoptive parent support group. She was fiercely intelligent, warm, and friendly and her sprawling household contained more kids and animals than I did!
It was through her that we first got involved in 4H. We got our first rescue rehomed Beardie Molly through her kindness as well. I am not sure that I had ever even heard of a Bearded Collie until we became friends.
This woman taught me how to navigate the stressful waters of DSS and all its horrible red tape. She taught me how to run a group, conduct a meeting, offer support, and work with people I did not necessarily agree with.
We spoke on the phone daily for about five years. We use to get all our little kids together and took turns meeting at eachothers houses. Once when I returned home from a family camping trip I discovered she had repainted our kitchen and bathroom as a surprise for us.
I admired this woman, felt I wanted to be more like her. Then one day our friendship ended with a resounding crash. A terrible betrayal on her part and then as I in some disbelief tried to resolve it, an even worse betrayal.
I was sick over it for weeks. In my life I had never ended a friendship, heck I am still friends now with the first 2 girls I ever met when I moved to Hanson at age 7! Certainly like everyone I have had friendships wax and wane, you know those friendships based on sharing a bench in the ltitle league stands, working on a committee together, etc. Even my close knit ties with other foster adoptive parents have lessened over the years as kids and hobbies have diverged. But to actually end a relationship? NEVER.
My mother tried to help me mend the relationship but even she saw it was not to be. I fretted over the loss of contact with all of her children but could see no way to bridge the gap.
After a year or so of no contact I brgan to hear rumors, whispers really of concern about the family from other friends (she neatly cut ties with all of us and to a person we were shocked and hurt.) I bumped into the woman one day at sahws and she invited me over. Worried about thek ids and not wanting to believe the bad things I was hearing I did visit her once. But it seemed as though she was slowly losing her mind or something. The person I knew was simply not there and in her place was an odd woman who seemed a little threatening. I did not go back again. I did not know what to do, how to fix or help and as we all know our own lives are fulltime jobs for any of us.....but maybe there was more I could have done?
Because in fact the woman was indeed spiralling into mental illness and eventually dementia. Of course looking back it is somewhat eaiser to point out signs, but at the time her intelligance and cunning masked symptoms even from herself.
All these years later of course the pain of betrayal is nothing now. But the sadness of missing her kids and missing her friendship -when it was real- remains.
Yesterday her two eldest daughters sat in my kitchen, like their mom did so many times years ago. They talked and laughed and shared their kids and ideas. 2 women any mother would be proud of. 2 woman living the dream their mother had both for herself and for her daughters.
We briefly spoke of their mom although to me and perhaps to them she was like a small ghost in the room. I shared somethings they did not know, they illuminated somethings for me. There was no blame, no real anger, only a mournful look at reality and a few whistful what ifs?
These 2 women went thru hell and back for their mom although they barely touched on it with me. But they are a testament to her strength and ideas in the way they conduct their lives. One is a social worker. Both have finished raising their mothers many children, when not much more than kids themselves. Both have a closeness with one another that their poor mother never had with her siblings.
I loved their visit. I felt in some ways like we were making baby steps to a deeper friendship although you can never tell with these things. I do truly admire them though. I know that I am the person I am because I had wonderful magnificent marvelous parents. They did too for a time until mental illness stole that from them.
Some people have very arduous journeys through this life. It makes the moments of nursing babies, and pulling the cats tail, and lovingly squeezing the stuffing out of baby chicks, it makes such moments all the more fragile and magical.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
The sap should be running soon.
I am sitting on my mom's rocking chair in the patch of living room sun normally occupied by one of the cats. Next to me is the
little greenhouse and from it, the faint aroma of growing basil convinces my
cynical mind that truly spring will arrive soon.
The house is remarkably
clean in preparation for little visitors who are coming to see and hold baby
chicks and bunnies. It is too cold to be outside in the barns so we have a plan
to turn the living room into a mini classroom. Pictures of smiling chicks and
rabbits are all set to color. Craft sticks and glue sticks are at the ready to
transform into chick and bun puppets.
Meanwhile I am going over plans on how
to harvest sap from my sugar maple trees. Tim is sceptical about this latest foray into self sufficiency. But I think I would like to try to make maple syrup. From what I have read it takes 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup so I will consider it a success if I have at least enough for one plate of pancakes!
More and more my mind turns to the land and what we eat, wear, and use and of course how it is produced. Now I am no Amish girl. Heaven knows I would be lost without my tv, computer, and cellphone. I have lived for many years without heat in my bedroom, enough years to truly treasure central heating. I may complain about ten of us and one bathroom, but I could never survive an outhouse and stove heated tub water. I may like the idea of a Regency era fainting couch. But a Regency era hipbath once a week? NEVER.
But these last couple of months I have really been pondering our place on earth and our relationship to it. Very hippie I know. But as I watch the political discord grow more and more heated in our great country, and as I watch other nations striving towards something...well something better or at least different I wonder about my contributions.
I am startled and saddened to hear strident voices so convinced in not just their rightness, but everyone elses wrongness that I wonder what my role should be. Whatever happened to respect for pluralistic thoughts? I thought one of the magnificent things about America was the idea THAT DIFFERING IDEAS WERE OK. Take something like abortion. The word itself is so volatile it has become for many many people the single policy that decides their vote. (If they vote, plenty of vehement people like to complain but not actually do anything about it!)
Both sides are so angry and so righteous that there is no room for compromise or true communication. This is what I believe: Back when Roe V Wade came about and abortion limits were set at the age of viability those on the right to choose side were in general comfortable with that. (almost no thoughtful person believes in abortion on demand.) But now all these years later the age of viability is very early indeed......21 weeks or so gestation.
So why cannot the access to abortion be limited to the age of viability?......Because no one will talk about it. Any talk about limiting abortion immediately turns to eliminating it. I am told as a woman I should support abortion rights or I am not a good woman. I am told as a Catholic I should absolutely support right to life or I am not a good Catholic.
What to do? What do I as one person do? For me fostering dozens of kids and working in the schools is a way to value human life. But I thought it should go one further and so I spent seven years at the Detox offering respect and dignity to people who society said do not deserve it. This is right to life. To treat and respect and care for all of Gods children, those who deserve it and those who do not, those unborn and those already here....
Ok How in the heck did I get onto abortion? Did your blood pressure rise? Did you argue your position in your head as you read this? Did you judge what you assume to be my position even though I did not fully state it? See what is happening to us? And it is not just abortion that pisses people off, unions, health care, unemployment,race relations, you name it people have an unbending unyielding uncompromising opinion on it.
So how does this all relate to my little farm? My baby urges, and planting, and reaping what I sow? I am thinking that growing food, raising animals, recycling, harvesting, eating and drinking and wearing what I created from the bounty of this good earth is a way to step back and think about these larger discussions.
I am a meat eater. I love McDonalds, but I can have a say in how the beef is raised to slaughter. I like knowing my little chickens who bless me with fresh eggs live a happy chicken life pecking about the ground. I observe and care for and enjoy my bunnies and ponder my responsibilities to make their life fun and interesting even if it is in a cage and not like their wild bunny cousins. My dogs do not roam free like their wild cousins but I am responsible for their quality of life.
Big thoughts and little thoughts all jumbly together like something at PoohCorner. But whenever I take extra time and patience for my elderly beardie and her little quirks, or when I perform the repetitive chores of caring for the bunnies I am reminded to be patient and watch and learn.
Then comes a moment like today when I get to place baby bunnies in chubby toddler hands and I am sure all will be right with the world.
little greenhouse and from it, the faint aroma of growing basil convinces my
cynical mind that truly spring will arrive soon.
The house is remarkably
clean in preparation for little visitors who are coming to see and hold baby
chicks and bunnies. It is too cold to be outside in the barns so we have a plan
to turn the living room into a mini classroom. Pictures of smiling chicks and
rabbits are all set to color. Craft sticks and glue sticks are at the ready to
transform into chick and bun puppets.
Meanwhile I am going over plans on how
to harvest sap from my sugar maple trees. Tim is sceptical about this latest foray into self sufficiency. But I think I would like to try to make maple syrup. From what I have read it takes 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup so I will consider it a success if I have at least enough for one plate of pancakes!
More and more my mind turns to the land and what we eat, wear, and use and of course how it is produced. Now I am no Amish girl. Heaven knows I would be lost without my tv, computer, and cellphone. I have lived for many years without heat in my bedroom, enough years to truly treasure central heating. I may complain about ten of us and one bathroom, but I could never survive an outhouse and stove heated tub water. I may like the idea of a Regency era fainting couch. But a Regency era hipbath once a week? NEVER.
But these last couple of months I have really been pondering our place on earth and our relationship to it. Very hippie I know. But as I watch the political discord grow more and more heated in our great country, and as I watch other nations striving towards something...well something better or at least different I wonder about my contributions.
I am startled and saddened to hear strident voices so convinced in not just their rightness, but everyone elses wrongness that I wonder what my role should be. Whatever happened to respect for pluralistic thoughts? I thought one of the magnificent things about America was the idea THAT DIFFERING IDEAS WERE OK. Take something like abortion. The word itself is so volatile it has become for many many people the single policy that decides their vote. (If they vote, plenty of vehement people like to complain but not actually do anything about it!)
Both sides are so angry and so righteous that there is no room for compromise or true communication. This is what I believe: Back when Roe V Wade came about and abortion limits were set at the age of viability those on the right to choose side were in general comfortable with that. (almost no thoughtful person believes in abortion on demand.) But now all these years later the age of viability is very early indeed......21 weeks or so gestation.
So why cannot the access to abortion be limited to the age of viability?......Because no one will talk about it. Any talk about limiting abortion immediately turns to eliminating it. I am told as a woman I should support abortion rights or I am not a good woman. I am told as a Catholic I should absolutely support right to life or I am not a good Catholic.
What to do? What do I as one person do? For me fostering dozens of kids and working in the schools is a way to value human life. But I thought it should go one further and so I spent seven years at the Detox offering respect and dignity to people who society said do not deserve it. This is right to life. To treat and respect and care for all of Gods children, those who deserve it and those who do not, those unborn and those already here....
Ok How in the heck did I get onto abortion? Did your blood pressure rise? Did you argue your position in your head as you read this? Did you judge what you assume to be my position even though I did not fully state it? See what is happening to us? And it is not just abortion that pisses people off, unions, health care, unemployment,race relations, you name it people have an unbending unyielding uncompromising opinion on it.
So how does this all relate to my little farm? My baby urges, and planting, and reaping what I sow? I am thinking that growing food, raising animals, recycling, harvesting, eating and drinking and wearing what I created from the bounty of this good earth is a way to step back and think about these larger discussions.
I am a meat eater. I love McDonalds, but I can have a say in how the beef is raised to slaughter. I like knowing my little chickens who bless me with fresh eggs live a happy chicken life pecking about the ground. I observe and care for and enjoy my bunnies and ponder my responsibilities to make their life fun and interesting even if it is in a cage and not like their wild bunny cousins. My dogs do not roam free like their wild cousins but I am responsible for their quality of life.
Big thoughts and little thoughts all jumbly together like something at PoohCorner. But whenever I take extra time and patience for my elderly beardie and her little quirks, or when I perform the repetitive chores of caring for the bunnies I am reminded to be patient and watch and learn.
Then comes a moment like today when I get to place baby bunnies in chubby toddler hands and I am sure all will be right with the world.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Communities
I have been thinking a lot about 'community' and what it means. How are we a part of it? What are my responsibilities to it?
I chose small town life because I think it is easier to be part of a community, The Community in a little town as oppose to a large city. But the other day I had a teacher say something very powerful to me. He said he feels bad that our town is so small most of the kids go PreK to 12 together. He remarked that in many communities, come middle or high school, other kids join the mix and therefore a kid has a 'do-over' a chance to reinvent himself. But in a very small town the sins of your past (like wetting your pants in the first grade, or becoming busty in the fifth grade, 2 years before your other classmates) haunts you all of your days making it extremely hard to overcome your past.
People in small communities, like people in your family, can peg you early as 'trouble' or 'stupid' or 'fresh.' Family and small communities have long memories or so it would seem. I know at the Detox many of our addicts had to leave family and community far behind to make a true fresh start in sobriety.
I always thought it was a gift to know your classmates from the very begining and I was tickled to think 5 of my 7 kids started preschool right here in town with their same classmates. But what this teacher said really has the ring of truth to it...
Over the weekend we were very sleep deprived do to 2 very big community events. The first was joyous, the other tragic.
This weekend was the Senior high school lock -in and our PTO decorated the library and turned it into a casino that we run for the kids into the wee hours of the morning. We set up, take down, and then serve them breakfast to send them off the next day stuffed and exhausted and happy.
Many parents come back to help, even those who no longer have seniors. It is a fun night and a cheerful community event that brings people together. We share laughs with the kids and 'remember whens' with the grownups and thank the exhausted teachers who agreed to spend the night supervising the kids while they play laser tag in the cafeteria, scoot on scooters down the hallway, have their palms read, play loud video games, and thoroughly amuse themslves.
It is a sight to behold and you feel the joy and excited pulse of a wonderful small town community.
Sadly, as the set up and take down of our fun community event was occuring, a tragic event unfolded that also brought the community together. A man who grew up here, whose parents and siblings still live here, still worship at our little Our Lady of Lourdes, still go to our high school, well that angry man -now a very troubled adult- is alleged to have perpetrated a murder so heinous that it makes you shudder to even think of it.
How in this wonderful community, in a lovely committed active family, how does such a person grow up commit such a horrific act? This was no young man, but an adult of 32. Whatever troubles or challenges he faced in the past, there is no excusing the crime he committed.
But then to flee back home to his parents house, to his younger siblings.... My heart just breaks for the family of the victim who also live in town. But oh that poor family of the accused!
As a community we are of course all touched by it. Siblings of the murderer share classes with our children. Nieces and nephews of the victim do as well. Our lovely caring community has this terrible tragedy in its midst. How does that relate to the joyful coming together of the community to celebrate its high school seniors?
When the assassination attempt happened in Arizona, I can remember aching for the parents of the accused. They could not bare to leave their house. But somehow life has to go on. I tried to imagine something like the Arizona crime occuring here, and then not 3 weeks later, something similar and as horrifying did.
I have no answers as I ponder community and what it means. I know I always think I do my small part....I have taught CCD, run the church youth group, I have coached and attended athletic events, I have always supported the schools (look who got tricked into substitute teaching for middle schoolers and liking it!) But so did the mother and father of the murderer. So did the mother and father of the victim. It is very sobering.
Prayers for our little town please. For those getting ready to embark into the 'real' world as well as those who have been so harshly affected by that very same 'real' world....
I chose small town life because I think it is easier to be part of a community, The Community in a little town as oppose to a large city. But the other day I had a teacher say something very powerful to me. He said he feels bad that our town is so small most of the kids go PreK to 12 together. He remarked that in many communities, come middle or high school, other kids join the mix and therefore a kid has a 'do-over' a chance to reinvent himself. But in a very small town the sins of your past (like wetting your pants in the first grade, or becoming busty in the fifth grade, 2 years before your other classmates) haunts you all of your days making it extremely hard to overcome your past.
People in small communities, like people in your family, can peg you early as 'trouble' or 'stupid' or 'fresh.' Family and small communities have long memories or so it would seem. I know at the Detox many of our addicts had to leave family and community far behind to make a true fresh start in sobriety.
I always thought it was a gift to know your classmates from the very begining and I was tickled to think 5 of my 7 kids started preschool right here in town with their same classmates. But what this teacher said really has the ring of truth to it...
Over the weekend we were very sleep deprived do to 2 very big community events. The first was joyous, the other tragic.
This weekend was the Senior high school lock -in and our PTO decorated the library and turned it into a casino that we run for the kids into the wee hours of the morning. We set up, take down, and then serve them breakfast to send them off the next day stuffed and exhausted and happy.
Many parents come back to help, even those who no longer have seniors. It is a fun night and a cheerful community event that brings people together. We share laughs with the kids and 'remember whens' with the grownups and thank the exhausted teachers who agreed to spend the night supervising the kids while they play laser tag in the cafeteria, scoot on scooters down the hallway, have their palms read, play loud video games, and thoroughly amuse themslves.
It is a sight to behold and you feel the joy and excited pulse of a wonderful small town community.
Sadly, as the set up and take down of our fun community event was occuring, a tragic event unfolded that also brought the community together. A man who grew up here, whose parents and siblings still live here, still worship at our little Our Lady of Lourdes, still go to our high school, well that angry man -now a very troubled adult- is alleged to have perpetrated a murder so heinous that it makes you shudder to even think of it.
How in this wonderful community, in a lovely committed active family, how does such a person grow up commit such a horrific act? This was no young man, but an adult of 32. Whatever troubles or challenges he faced in the past, there is no excusing the crime he committed.
But then to flee back home to his parents house, to his younger siblings.... My heart just breaks for the family of the victim who also live in town. But oh that poor family of the accused!
As a community we are of course all touched by it. Siblings of the murderer share classes with our children. Nieces and nephews of the victim do as well. Our lovely caring community has this terrible tragedy in its midst. How does that relate to the joyful coming together of the community to celebrate its high school seniors?
When the assassination attempt happened in Arizona, I can remember aching for the parents of the accused. They could not bare to leave their house. But somehow life has to go on. I tried to imagine something like the Arizona crime occuring here, and then not 3 weeks later, something similar and as horrifying did.
I have no answers as I ponder community and what it means. I know I always think I do my small part....I have taught CCD, run the church youth group, I have coached and attended athletic events, I have always supported the schools (look who got tricked into substitute teaching for middle schoolers and liking it!) But so did the mother and father of the murderer. So did the mother and father of the victim. It is very sobering.
Prayers for our little town please. For those getting ready to embark into the 'real' world as well as those who have been so harshly affected by that very same 'real' world....
Monday, February 14, 2011
Valentines Day 2011
Baby chicks arrived today and I assumed at day's end I would post an adorable new life /spring is almost here sort of post. I still may! I have taken pictures but Nikki and I share a camera posting thingy and she borrowed it so no new pictures until I find where she put it.
I picked up chicks today and raced about before work trying to get 'medicated starter'. We only use medicated feed on new chicks as we want to make sure they are the healthiest they can be, and postal delivery is as you can imagine fraught with anxiety and stress for day old birds.
Turns out no one else gets their baby birds until April so it took a couple of grain store visits to get just what we needed. Meanwhile Don was entertaining the Verizon computer fixer guy. That is correct we have been 4 days sans computer which I believe caused more angst to the teens than the 6 shower less/toilet less days, a week ago. Ah well, toilets now flush and face book is now available so all is well...
After settling in chicks I raced from one job (kindergarten and Valentine's Day, there is just no downside to that!) and then to do my personal care work with a very special little girl. By the time I got home just after 8 I was starving, eager to see how the new chicks were faring, and of course hoping to have some sort of romantic Valentine's Day with my valentine.
Well just after nine I was sitting in my bedroom. Don was feeding me chocolate covered strawberries. Joe was at my feet hovering over baby chicks (3 did not survive the stressful transport and adjustment. Not unexpected but still rather sad.)
Meanwhile I was helping Nikki prepare note cards. Tomorrow she is having a 2 chapter quiz in history. 2 chapters should be no big deal. But chapter one was the ENTIRE World War 1. How the heck does that fit into one chapter? Then the second chapter was on the repercussions of said war. You know the things that ultimately led up to WORLD FRIGGING WAR 2!
As Don fed me another strawberry - Joe asked a question about one of the chicks and Nikki asked what the 14th point of Wilson's fourteen point plan was (ultimaltely the League of Nations in case you forgot!) I liooked longingly at don and commented "This is such a romantic Valentines Day."
Nikki looked at me smiling and then all of a sudden startled. "Oh" she said, :"That was sarcasm, right?"
Ahhhh.......happy Valentine's day all you Lovers out there....
I picked up chicks today and raced about before work trying to get 'medicated starter'. We only use medicated feed on new chicks as we want to make sure they are the healthiest they can be, and postal delivery is as you can imagine fraught with anxiety and stress for day old birds.
Turns out no one else gets their baby birds until April so it took a couple of grain store visits to get just what we needed. Meanwhile Don was entertaining the Verizon computer fixer guy. That is correct we have been 4 days sans computer which I believe caused more angst to the teens than the 6 shower less/toilet less days, a week ago. Ah well, toilets now flush and face book is now available so all is well...
After settling in chicks I raced from one job (kindergarten and Valentine's Day, there is just no downside to that!) and then to do my personal care work with a very special little girl. By the time I got home just after 8 I was starving, eager to see how the new chicks were faring, and of course hoping to have some sort of romantic Valentine's Day with my valentine.
Well just after nine I was sitting in my bedroom. Don was feeding me chocolate covered strawberries. Joe was at my feet hovering over baby chicks (3 did not survive the stressful transport and adjustment. Not unexpected but still rather sad.)
Meanwhile I was helping Nikki prepare note cards. Tomorrow she is having a 2 chapter quiz in history. 2 chapters should be no big deal. But chapter one was the ENTIRE World War 1. How the heck does that fit into one chapter? Then the second chapter was on the repercussions of said war. You know the things that ultimately led up to WORLD FRIGGING WAR 2!
As Don fed me another strawberry - Joe asked a question about one of the chicks and Nikki asked what the 14th point of Wilson's fourteen point plan was (ultimaltely the League of Nations in case you forgot!) I liooked longingly at don and commented "This is such a romantic Valentines Day."
Nikki looked at me smiling and then all of a sudden startled. "Oh" she said, :"That was sarcasm, right?"
Ahhhh.......happy Valentine's day all you Lovers out there....
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Sounds of a Quiet house
Tonight I came home after parent teacher conferences and driving Nikki to her various basketball commitments when a very unusual occurrance, well, occured!
I came home to an empty house, empty of people that is. 3 dogs joyfully greeted me, 3 cats also welcomed me with varying levels of disdain, and of course my fish swam by in their little living room tank with that hungry look which I always interpret as the fish version of affection.
Since my brother moved in with us in 2002 I do not think I have been alone in the house more than a handful of times. It is eerie but I must say rather pleasant.
I took care of the dogs dinner and let out both dogs and cats, fed the fishes and then.....sat. Just sat and looked around my living room.
When we first moved in our living room was really a playroom. We were fostering 3 little kids, had 4 of our own and the oldest child was 8. The room has always been covered with kid toys, kid belongings, kid junk, kid trash, kid homework, kid artwork, kid odors (and of course a liberal amount of doggy hair.)
Although there are still nine humans living here; We are none of us getting any younger. 2 are at college most of the time and others have work, school, and their crazy schedules that constantly has them and us in and out.
I love it of course, lets face it they are all here because at some point I thought it was a good idea:>) But there is always a cost to whatever decision you make in life and I sacrificed a calm and orderly existence and apparently the right to sit in solitude in my living room.
It is of course not completely silent. The heater, the fridg,e and the fish tank make their clickity drippity little machinery sounds. Also the dogs make their happy little doggy noises as they vie for the most comfortable spot next to (read that to mean' on top of') me.
But nobody is asking me something, nobody is telling me something, nobody is demanding or needing or wanting or bickering or or or......soooooo nice.
Maybe Donnie has something with this whole idea of not having anymore children.....I know the Catholic church touts that whole 'be open to having children thing' but I always thought it was telling that God Himself had his only Son raised by a foster father....
They will all be home soon enough and i will hear about the work day at Shaws, what went on at 4H dog club, the plans for basketball, and what the Special Olympic athletes were up to tonight. So for right now I AM GONNA FIX ME A WARM CUP OF TEA AND WATCH MY FISH SWIM AND LOOK AT MY LITTLE PLANTS SPROUT and completely and absolutely S_A_V_O_R the moment.
I came home to an empty house, empty of people that is. 3 dogs joyfully greeted me, 3 cats also welcomed me with varying levels of disdain, and of course my fish swam by in their little living room tank with that hungry look which I always interpret as the fish version of affection.
Since my brother moved in with us in 2002 I do not think I have been alone in the house more than a handful of times. It is eerie but I must say rather pleasant.
I took care of the dogs dinner and let out both dogs and cats, fed the fishes and then.....sat. Just sat and looked around my living room.
When we first moved in our living room was really a playroom. We were fostering 3 little kids, had 4 of our own and the oldest child was 8. The room has always been covered with kid toys, kid belongings, kid junk, kid trash, kid homework, kid artwork, kid odors (and of course a liberal amount of doggy hair.)
Although there are still nine humans living here; We are none of us getting any younger. 2 are at college most of the time and others have work, school, and their crazy schedules that constantly has them and us in and out.
I love it of course, lets face it they are all here because at some point I thought it was a good idea:>) But there is always a cost to whatever decision you make in life and I sacrificed a calm and orderly existence and apparently the right to sit in solitude in my living room.
It is of course not completely silent. The heater, the fridg,e and the fish tank make their clickity drippity little machinery sounds. Also the dogs make their happy little doggy noises as they vie for the most comfortable spot next to (read that to mean' on top of') me.
But nobody is asking me something, nobody is telling me something, nobody is demanding or needing or wanting or bickering or or or......soooooo nice.
Maybe Donnie has something with this whole idea of not having anymore children.....I know the Catholic church touts that whole 'be open to having children thing' but I always thought it was telling that God Himself had his only Son raised by a foster father....
They will all be home soon enough and i will hear about the work day at Shaws, what went on at 4H dog club, the plans for basketball, and what the Special Olympic athletes were up to tonight. So for right now I AM GONNA FIX ME A WARM CUP OF TEA AND WATCH MY FISH SWIM AND LOOK AT MY LITTLE PLANTS SPROUT and completely and absolutely S_A_V_O_R the moment.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
Growing Season
Last year I picked up a relatively inexpensive pvc piping and plastic portable greenhouse which I joyfully set up in my living room. I was able to begin all my herbs and get a jump on some tomato and cucumber plants. Then in late spring, just before my neck injury I had Donnie drag the greenhouse out to the garden where I used it more as a cold frame to get corn and sunflowers for instance off to a successful start.
If you know anything about squirrels, and I view them in the same way as the government views terrorists, you would know that corn and sunflower seeds planted in the ground are a cheerful game and lunch all rolled into one for those damn squirrels. Being able to get those seeds sprouting before putting them into the ground meant a very successful sunflower season.
Sadly once my injury kept me from all but the most simple of garden chores the more intensive corn never really worked out. But they did got off to a great start and the eventual stunted stocks became a yummy snack for the chickens.
I kept meaning to bring the greenhouse back inside this Fall but with Cookie's cage in the kitchen (where the greenhouse stood last winter) and the Christmas tree in the living room and space always at a premium with nine people living here...well I just got around to moving it back in.
For now it is in a sunny space near the east facing window between the fishtank and the bookcase. It is skinny enough that it does not even block the view of the tv! The zippered plastic door has been damaged but inside the door does not have to be shut and once the greenhouse goes back outside I can always duct tape the heck out it!
I am going to get the cucumbers and tomatos off to an early start again, plus grow some radishes for a quick green fun crop. (I don't eat radishes but the chickens love them and they sprout so quickly, very rewarding for an impatient gardener.)
Basil, parsley, and chives are on my grow list too and for some cheerful flowers I will start marigolds and pansys. I am still trying to figure out the logistics of possibly growing enough produce for us with leftovers to sell at the farmers market. In order to do that I would have to say no to growing potatos, which do very well but require a lot of space and careful checking for stupid Colorado potato beetles which have to be handplucked and squished.
There is nothing better than digging in the dirt and harvesting your very own potatos. The taste is out of this world. But they take up so much room, and I could use that space for cucumbers tomatos beans and peas all of which will sell at the farmers market and none of which require too much care once they are established.
Because we are all organic (since the garden sits over our well water) I know folks would love to buy our veggies. But planning the garden with an eye to commercial is very different than planning to please myself. For instance I never have much luck with corn especially given all the space and babying it needs. But I love the thought of corn so most years I devote a large swath to it. Or one year I used an entire garden bed to try and grow peanuts. We are too far north to grow peanuts. But that year had an unseasonable warm spring and hot fall and my peanut crop was amazing!
I also like to grow odd things like funny shaped gourds or weird colored pumpkins. Plus I try my hand at watermelon and cantalope with no real success whatsoever. But it is the thought that counts!
But if I want surplus I should stick with the basics and really garden intensively for them. I plot on paper and read up online and stare at my garden books and magazines.
I often wished I had more land, a great big ranch of a farm. But my little acre my 3B's Farm is a happy cheerful place even if everything is a bit squished. The plants prefer companion planting anyway with tomato plants happily growing bumped up against marigold, nasturtiums and basil.
Of course I dutifully rotate plants in the bed each year to keep the soil from being depleted and to help prevent bad bugs from getting a foothold. The payoff of course besides robust vegetables is that I often have unexpected plants pop back up in the bed from the previous years crop. So dill pops up inbetween the beans, or a tomato plant reseeds and plunks itself in the middle of the zuchinni patch.
I will have to give it all a lot more thought but what better way to spend daydreaming time than to think about the growing season and all its riches?
If you know anything about squirrels, and I view them in the same way as the government views terrorists, you would know that corn and sunflower seeds planted in the ground are a cheerful game and lunch all rolled into one for those damn squirrels. Being able to get those seeds sprouting before putting them into the ground meant a very successful sunflower season.
Sadly once my injury kept me from all but the most simple of garden chores the more intensive corn never really worked out. But they did got off to a great start and the eventual stunted stocks became a yummy snack for the chickens.
I kept meaning to bring the greenhouse back inside this Fall but with Cookie's cage in the kitchen (where the greenhouse stood last winter) and the Christmas tree in the living room and space always at a premium with nine people living here...well I just got around to moving it back in.
For now it is in a sunny space near the east facing window between the fishtank and the bookcase. It is skinny enough that it does not even block the view of the tv! The zippered plastic door has been damaged but inside the door does not have to be shut and once the greenhouse goes back outside I can always duct tape the heck out it!
I am going to get the cucumbers and tomatos off to an early start again, plus grow some radishes for a quick green fun crop. (I don't eat radishes but the chickens love them and they sprout so quickly, very rewarding for an impatient gardener.)
Basil, parsley, and chives are on my grow list too and for some cheerful flowers I will start marigolds and pansys. I am still trying to figure out the logistics of possibly growing enough produce for us with leftovers to sell at the farmers market. In order to do that I would have to say no to growing potatos, which do very well but require a lot of space and careful checking for stupid Colorado potato beetles which have to be handplucked and squished.
There is nothing better than digging in the dirt and harvesting your very own potatos. The taste is out of this world. But they take up so much room, and I could use that space for cucumbers tomatos beans and peas all of which will sell at the farmers market and none of which require too much care once they are established.
Because we are all organic (since the garden sits over our well water) I know folks would love to buy our veggies. But planning the garden with an eye to commercial is very different than planning to please myself. For instance I never have much luck with corn especially given all the space and babying it needs. But I love the thought of corn so most years I devote a large swath to it. Or one year I used an entire garden bed to try and grow peanuts. We are too far north to grow peanuts. But that year had an unseasonable warm spring and hot fall and my peanut crop was amazing!
I also like to grow odd things like funny shaped gourds or weird colored pumpkins. Plus I try my hand at watermelon and cantalope with no real success whatsoever. But it is the thought that counts!
But if I want surplus I should stick with the basics and really garden intensively for them. I plot on paper and read up online and stare at my garden books and magazines.
I often wished I had more land, a great big ranch of a farm. But my little acre my 3B's Farm is a happy cheerful place even if everything is a bit squished. The plants prefer companion planting anyway with tomato plants happily growing bumped up against marigold, nasturtiums and basil.
Of course I dutifully rotate plants in the bed each year to keep the soil from being depleted and to help prevent bad bugs from getting a foothold. The payoff of course besides robust vegetables is that I often have unexpected plants pop back up in the bed from the previous years crop. So dill pops up inbetween the beans, or a tomato plant reseeds and plunks itself in the middle of the zuchinni patch.
I will have to give it all a lot more thought but what better way to spend daydreaming time than to think about the growing season and all its riches?
Friday, February 04, 2011
The living room greenhouse
Working on growing some herbs and starting some flowers and veggies for spring.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Spring type plans and dreams
I am so done feeling stressed and worried and downhearted. I like to sing in my heart and feel all rainbows and butterflies and warm puppy snuggles. So I shall just put my mind to it! Truck still broken with the same problem even after paying to get it fixed? Still no toilet and shower, and maybe not until Thursday? I am done! Time for happy plans.
Today during art the kids were finishing making their 'pattern rugs'. Those that completed their projects early were allowed to free draw with crayons, colored pencils, or markers. Heady stuff being allowed all that freedom at five years of age to pick your drawing tool!
My little friend M busily used her colored pencils to draw a tall colorful tree. She then had a funny branch poking smack out of the middle of the tree and on it she created a tiny nest with four poky lumps sticking out of it. She then drew a bird hovering near the nest.
"This is the Momma," she explained excitedly. "She is waiting for her babies to hatch out of their eggs."
Looking down into her upturned face, seeing her honest joy in her art, my own spirits lifted. We all have struggles and stresses and aggravations but come spring Momma birds will be chirping outside the windows, sitting on branches and peering into their nests waiting for their eggs to hatch.
In spite of the cold snowy slippery rest of the day thoughts of M and her drawing kept me warm and smiling. Even when I returned home to discover= bleh= I don't even feel like writing it all out= Suffice to say we may be bathroom less another two days.
Instead I have been planning out my garden, what to plant and where to plant. I watched Oprah who devoted her show to vegan philosophies and more mindful consideration of how the meat we do eat is raised and processed.
I found many of the points interesting and I admired how hard Oprah worked to present a middle of the road reasonable response to what can be such a decisive issue.
One of the reasons I began gardening and raising animals was to have a more immediate connection to the whole life cycle planet Earth awareness. I love thinking how the compost my plants grow in comes from my bunnies and chickens. How the eggs our little ladies produce are enriched not by chemicals but by the protein from bugs in the garden, and produce from weeds, weed seeds, and spent vegetable plants.
True we do not eat any of our chickens or rabbits (under the theory that it would be hard to eat anyone we named!) But our Thanksgiving turkey came from our friend's farm and we are looking into how to make our own goat and sheep cheeses.
I am calculating to see if we could have enough yield for our own needs with surplus to get a table at the Farmers Market this year. By midsummer our as yet unborn chicks should be laying like pros so eggs would not be a problem. Also when the grapes come in we would have enough to please even the most avarice of grapeophiles. But the other crops tend to be bust or bountiful, weather depending. Cool spring is great for my peas but slows down my tomatoes, for instance.
As I sit and ponder baby chicks and junior rabbits for the start of rabbit show season I find my whole body releases the tense hunched shape it has assumed since the septic backed up.
Its hard to remain to fretful when contemplating the garden or the animals that make up our almost acre farm.
Meanwhile in school we have placed Lima bean seeds on a damp napkin and zipped both in plastic baggies. Like the scientists we are we have been drawing what our seeds look like every few days. When the science journal assignment is over I have a small bucket with growing medium ready to transplant the hardiest of the little slips into.
I do not care for Lima beans in the least. But already I feel an attachment to some of those hardy little seeds and the interesting ways they are sprouting. Some burst forth by splitting the seed cover right in half. Others send out what looks like a little pale tale to curl around its seed.
Gardens and animals and little kids these are the dreams and plans that ease my mind.
Today during art the kids were finishing making their 'pattern rugs'. Those that completed their projects early were allowed to free draw with crayons, colored pencils, or markers. Heady stuff being allowed all that freedom at five years of age to pick your drawing tool!
My little friend M busily used her colored pencils to draw a tall colorful tree. She then had a funny branch poking smack out of the middle of the tree and on it she created a tiny nest with four poky lumps sticking out of it. She then drew a bird hovering near the nest.
"This is the Momma," she explained excitedly. "She is waiting for her babies to hatch out of their eggs."
Looking down into her upturned face, seeing her honest joy in her art, my own spirits lifted. We all have struggles and stresses and aggravations but come spring Momma birds will be chirping outside the windows, sitting on branches and peering into their nests waiting for their eggs to hatch.
In spite of the cold snowy slippery rest of the day thoughts of M and her drawing kept me warm and smiling. Even when I returned home to discover= bleh= I don't even feel like writing it all out= Suffice to say we may be bathroom less another two days.
Instead I have been planning out my garden, what to plant and where to plant. I watched Oprah who devoted her show to vegan philosophies and more mindful consideration of how the meat we do eat is raised and processed.
I found many of the points interesting and I admired how hard Oprah worked to present a middle of the road reasonable response to what can be such a decisive issue.
One of the reasons I began gardening and raising animals was to have a more immediate connection to the whole life cycle planet Earth awareness. I love thinking how the compost my plants grow in comes from my bunnies and chickens. How the eggs our little ladies produce are enriched not by chemicals but by the protein from bugs in the garden, and produce from weeds, weed seeds, and spent vegetable plants.
True we do not eat any of our chickens or rabbits (under the theory that it would be hard to eat anyone we named!) But our Thanksgiving turkey came from our friend's farm and we are looking into how to make our own goat and sheep cheeses.
I am calculating to see if we could have enough yield for our own needs with surplus to get a table at the Farmers Market this year. By midsummer our as yet unborn chicks should be laying like pros so eggs would not be a problem. Also when the grapes come in we would have enough to please even the most avarice of grapeophiles. But the other crops tend to be bust or bountiful, weather depending. Cool spring is great for my peas but slows down my tomatoes, for instance.
As I sit and ponder baby chicks and junior rabbits for the start of rabbit show season I find my whole body releases the tense hunched shape it has assumed since the septic backed up.
Its hard to remain to fretful when contemplating the garden or the animals that make up our almost acre farm.
Meanwhile in school we have placed Lima bean seeds on a damp napkin and zipped both in plastic baggies. Like the scientists we are we have been drawing what our seeds look like every few days. When the science journal assignment is over I have a small bucket with growing medium ready to transplant the hardiest of the little slips into.
I do not care for Lima beans in the least. But already I feel an attachment to some of those hardy little seeds and the interesting ways they are sprouting. Some burst forth by splitting the seed cover right in half. Others send out what looks like a little pale tale to curl around its seed.
Gardens and animals and little kids these are the dreams and plans that ease my mind.
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