Category — Book links

Oh, the joys of coming home with an armful of borrowed books. The Daniel Boone Regional Library is incredible, from its amazing selection of music to its old classic children’s books, it’s large section of things I love, like homesteading and knitting books — but add to that no limits and no late fees, and you got DBRL. I heart them.

Today I am pretty excited about the books I toted home for my winter break reading. Garden Gate will be closed until mid-January so I’ve got the full-time kiddo gig back again for the month. I am excited! We have St. Lucia celebrations tomorrow and a Winter Spiral at Garden Gate. I plan to do lots of crafting, lots of baking, and lots (LOTS) of singing.

Having already established a good stack of book’s for the kids this winter, (including three new favs: The Christmas Story Book, Fireside Stories; Tales for a Winter’s Eve, and Jan Brett’s new one, Home for Christmas), today was about mom (that’d be me).

Without further delay, I bring you my winter reading:

Seasons of Celebration; Meditations on the Cycle of Liturgical Feasts, — THOMAS MERTON (Okay, I named my bunny after this guy – I’m giddy about finding this one!)

A Simple Christmas; Celebrating the Old-Fashioned Way in a Post-Modern World — LORI SALKIN & ROB SPERRY

Holy Holidays; The Catholic Origins of Celebration — GREG TOBIN

Tis the Season Holiday Cookbook – MARY ENGELBREIT

Less is More; Embracing simplicity for a healthy planet, a caring economy, and lasting happiness — CECILE ANDREWS & WANDA URBANSKA

Be Thrifty (… Not Cheap) ; How to Live Better with Less – PIA CATTON AND CALIFIA SUNTREE

Organizing Plain & Simple — DONNA SMALLIN

The Candida Albicans Yeast-Free Cookbook; How Good Nutrition Can Help Fight the Epidemic of Yeast-Related Diseases — PAT CONNOLLY

The Everyday Low-Carb Slow Cooker; Recipes That Cook Themselves — KITTY BROIHIER and KIMBERLY MAYONE

They were out of the two books I wanted most: Rhythm of the Family; Discovering a Sense of Wonder Through the Seasons (Amanda Soule) and Simpler Living: A Back to Basics Guide to Cleaning, Furnishing, Storing, Decluttering, Streamlining, Organizing, and More. (But these two are also on my Christmas wish list… hint hint Mr. Ortecho )

So that’s where my nose is stuck — now, what are YOU reading this winter???

The word discipline has been on my mind lately.

Since moving to Columbia and starting up discussions with the local waldorf book group each week, I have come around to my own spirituality and beliefs in a way I haven’t in a long time – or maybe ever. It is as though parenting, storytelling, Steiner, etc has opened up a back window to my house of faith, and this new entry carries with it many familiar sights and smells, but I am caught by the fact that there seems to be way less personal baggage from this route — the new angle has allowed to me the view from a different side, and I am grappling with tenets of life and faith in a way that is removed from some of the intention, suspicion, and experience of my past. Coming at it from this direction has way less cobwebs. It is a refreshing experience.

When I began to understand the power of story, particularly stories told aloud to children, in the book group and through what we are reading and doing, I was lead, (and I do mean “lead”, as I felt this unmitigated pull from one book/resource to the next, having the subject opened to me layer by layer without at first even realizing the correlations between each, ) to a short personal study on myths (i.e. Joseph Campbell) and then began to look at religious myths and the role these play in integrating mankind to their Creator, throughout history, throughout cultures.

What I once saw as fake, legalistic, empty, ritualistic, etc, I began to get from a standpoint of human development and consciousness, (and by no means do I mean that I now understand it is I am getting at here – I have only tapped the surface of this subject).

I felt myself drawn to the mystery of my own religious heritage, the history of my church, the stories of battles and adventure and reformations… and even towards its sacred text (the Bible), in much the way Brian McLaren urges people to read it, not as a “rule book” but as a “narrative”. I wondered why, if I celebrate and honor the sacred stories for other people groups as important, crucial, real, and magical for that culture – why do I not see my own beliefs in this way?

In other words, perhaps there is a different way to approach my faith beyond that of a passive submission, unquestioning and often too full of pride, folly, ignorance, and judgement, OR the other extreme; a dogmatic, theological discourse on every verse in the canonized bible taken literally (and an inevitable exasperation with that discourse that leads to living a life of fairly inactive personal faith, because I can’t help but feel like it is missing the whole point!). And that different way would look something more like the ancient stories of my faith, as archetypes, and that in embracing this story in such a way, I could experience the true elements of the story (of any story) in a deeper way (much the way I am learning to craft stories for the kids, and let them sit with a story, and let it resonate deep within their being in the way that Waldorf education promotes).

I have immersed myself this Summer with some of my old favorites, like Thomas Merton and Kathleen Norris. I have been reading about storytelling for children while understanding its importance for adults as well, through authors such as Joseph Campbell and Thomas Moore. I have been setting my listening preferences to things I would have never expected – Gregorian chants and chanticleer! I am craving something sacred and I am finding it, and it is lighting up something within me that has felt displaced and wandering for some time now. For crying out loud, I am even falling in love with liturgy! I have been going through the Morning, Mid-Day, and Evening prayers in Shane Claiborne’s “Common Prayer; a Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals” each day and finding them tremendously meaningful and beautiful. I have been attracted to monasticism, reading several books on monk habits, including the Rule of St. Benedict, and looking up local monasteries where I might go stay for a retreat and understand more about this way of life. In my desperation for liturgy, I attended Vespers at a Greek Orthodox church here in town. This week I rented “Of Gods and Men” and just balled – I felt such a kinship to the French monks and let the movie really move me in a deep way — (they really did a great job with this movie – you must watch it!).

It is pretty bizarre to me, this refreshed thirst. I have very little experience in a liturgical setting and most of it wasn’t pleasant. But now I can’t get enough. Where for many years I cringed at the word “discipline” or “ritual”, I now feel like it has been a crucial missing ingredient in my life. As I am beginning to see how a child needs his parents leadership to push and stretch his will, so do I need my own (strong, ahem) will stretched and pulled. I need to make my bed each morning. I need to do the dishes as soon as I dirty them. I need to embrace the mundane, tedious, sacrificial daily work of being a homemaker in much the same way that monks embrace God’s call to a life in constant communion with Him through the mundane and unglamorous tasks at hand. Each scrub of the bathtub, cleaning up of my child’s vomit, chopping vegetables for dinner, or the discipline of keeping my checkbook balanced and home uncluttered can be a prayer; can be a meditation on being in the moment, of sobriety and depth, of thanking God in silence and solitude or chaos and confusion; of the losing of my life in order to truly gain it. Imagine that.

It’s also been really neat to watch Ethan this month, and my own mothering, as a result of some of this searching… We have made certain times of day even more sacred, particularly bedtime. I began collecting poems, verses, hymns, etc awhile back which correlate for different times of the day, and different seasons of the year. It’s a daily journal, in a way a daily office, but for our particular family. Ethan seems to really relish the spiritual songs. After our nighttime reading (we have finished the first four books of the Chronicles of Narnia since moving to Columbia, and he just eats them up. He is loving Prince Caspian right now and asks so much questions about Aslan in relationship to Jesus… its very dear), we light a beeswax candle and I read a verse about the flame being our reminder that God hearing our prayers and lights up the darkness, etc, then together he and Ver blow it out and in the immediate darkness that surrounds us, we begin to sing the Our Father. From there we may sing other songs, like Take My Life, Doxology, Be Thou my Vision, and Let Their be Peace on Earth, his favorites. It requires me to set aside my impatience and any feelings of bitterness or exhaustion; I am extending my evening but I am gaining so much by laying in the darkness with my children and having a time of family worship before bed. I have often been shy and unsure about bringing my faith into my children’s lives, but lately I have felt compelled to infuse their childhood with this mystical and beautiful story, and to enrich the growth of their souls with the words of these powerful spiritual songs.

And tying in with this topic of personal ah-ha’s and such, I’ve been coming back around to the topic of community, and going through some hardships here in Columbia at what community shouldn’t be, how much I miss my communities in other states, and how easy it is to give up and move on when things don’t go as we would like. By no coincidence I am sure, I had read Life Together (Bonhoeffer) earlier this year, and just last night before bed read a quote from that book in another I am reading, “Monk Habits for Everyday People” by Dennis Okholm. It was left with me shortly before bed. When I woke up, ate some pancakes, and we all ventured out to try a new church this morning, what do ya know it, they shared the exact same Bonhoeffer quote in the sermon (and the experience of the new church was very encouraging and sweet — we have settled on calling this one our local church “home” and look forward to getting more involved, yay!).

Things like that have been happening all over the place for me. One little trail leads to the next and I see this little glimpse of the corner of the tapestry my Father is weaving for me, for all of us. It is a nice confirmation internally, to feel like you are where you should be, that you are experiencing (whether pleasurable or painful) the very thing you are meant to experience at this time. It is a comforting thought, and one that sustains me today, through unknowns and disappointments, and amidst exciting possibilities and beautiful new connections.

Independence Day’s local weather foretold thunderstorms as we peeled ourselves out of bed to start the day. Lucky for us, the claim proved false.

Instead we enjoyed a day spent almost entirely outdoors, soaking up a mild Summer sun and the comforts of nature, family, and food.

This morning we packed up a small picnic brunch and headed around the corner to Shelter Gardens (go check out the link and come back). We recently discovered this public garden space nearly right in our own backyard, and it is fast becoming an important resource for us. It provides a space to sit among beautiful botany and mindful landscaping, with several water features, a couy pond with waterfalls, windchimes, bird feeders, an herb garden, rose garden, zen garden, etc. It also has a One Room School house replica complete with old desks and chalkboards and a wood stove. It’s totally Little-House-esque. I can’t wait to utilize the space for our daily walks and to do lessons here as well, since it is the nearest space to my home that offers a natural landscape and a little peaceful solitude (I live on a busy urban street with the fire department close by – the noise is constant!)

We took our time at the gardens, I did a bit of yoga in the grass and found some neat collections. The kids played tag and climbed trees, Ethan got a great skinned knee (the markings of a childhood well-spent!), and we ended with a story time around a big tree (readings from Tales Told Again).

Later we insisted on naps for the kids, were pleasantly surprised when they both (even the almost-6 year old) succumbed to Mr. Sandman (give me a dream…). When they awoke, we headed out to drop off today’s milk delivery to a few people in our milk co-op (and found some old metal vanity chairs on the side of the road that I can’t wait to repurpose into totally chic children’s chairs! you can see those in the final picture, as they came in very handy later in the day ) and then finally we were onward to Lake Stephens.

Lake Stephens. I don’t know what I would do without. Here I find a place that is the closest nearby element of that crucial element WATER. Maybe it’s because I am a Pisces. Maybe it’s because I grew up on the Florida Gulf Coast and probably spent more time in the water than in any other play as a kid. But my soul needs water – the liquid, fluid, dreamy element that nourishes me and brings peace to my active mind. Inside city limits in the Midwest, I find some solace in Lake Stephens. A man made lake, slightly funky water (if you’re used to the ocean or fresh water springs), a faux-beach… who cares? I lay out my blanket, take out a book, slip down my straw hat low on my forehead, and let the sun work is magic on me. We go all.the.time.

Today Chris and I brought our suits (vintage finds at the Salvation Army, .50 and $1, respectively!), and SUBMERGED. We played Marco Polo. We dug underwater pits. We collected pebbles from the bottom. Oh yes, we are grown-ass-adults, and we totally did. In such play, children and adults alike connect with so many soul enriching elements at once – the water, the earth of sand and clay at the lake bottom, the fiery King Sun gently toasting your shoulders, and the warm breeze of air giving any part of you out of the water the shivers! It is truly amazing how life giving it can be, how sensuous an experience, to spend time outdoors and get dirty!

There is also a water feature of sprinklers right behind the man-made beach, which the kids have fun with. Ver adores stepping on them and squirting the water in all directions. This apparently NEVER gets old.

After several hours, we began to get hungry of course. We brought some hot dogs and buns, and a small bag of charcoal, so we headed up the hill at the park in search of a free grill. We were fortunate to find an entire pavillion right next to a smaller playground that was reserved until 11pm, but the reserved party was dispersing as we walked up so we got the whole place to ourselves. We let the kids play, cooked up some franks, and had a race down a HUGE hill. My, how much better hot dogs taste after you’ve played and gotten yourself good and hungry!

Dinner eaten, we took to the streets and found an empty parking lot to let the kids do some Party Poppers.

Later, we headed to the top of the parking garage by Chris’ work and set up camp. Rag Tag theater (connected to Uprise where he works) was open, so we walked down, had a potty break, got some beers and popcorn, refilled water canteens, and came back up just in time for the show to begin (the show went off a mile south at the stadium – a very crowded event happens there so we joined the much smaller crowd on the garage rooftops downtown). As fate would have it, my camera was drained by this point so I have no pictures of the fireworks. But let’s be honest, you’re kinda relieved about that, aren’t you?

The tired kids slugged into their beds around 10pm …

I leave you with a snippet from Care of the Soul, by Thomas Moore (rocking. my. world. — love love love!… more on that another time) that I think is appropriate as we celebrate our nation’s independence:

“America has a great longing to be the New World of opportunity and a moral beacon for the world. It longs to fulfill these narcissistic images of itself. At the same time it is painful to realize the distance between reality and that image. America’s narcissism is strong. It is paraded before the world. If we were to put the nation on the couch, we might discover that narcissism is its most obvious symptom. And yet that narcissism holds the promise that this all-important myth can find its way into life. In otherwords, America’s narcissism is its unrefined puer spirit of genuine new vision. The trick is to find a way to that water of transformation [like Narcissus' pool] where hard self-absorption turns into loving dialogue with the world.”

We continue to bend around the slightly new way of life here in Columbia, as various things in our lives are coming under the scrutiny of our will to evolve and grow without cumbersome bad habits holding us back. Sometimes these ruts in life get started, and things are so strained and stretched that merely surviving is about the highest level of functioning that seems available. The entire year we spent in Fayetteville seemed like that, combined with long hours for Chris at work, and my catching illness after illness. Thank God, truly, for how different things have been in our short time since moving; my health has been stellar (haven’t even had allergy symptoms, and I’m beginning to tolerate gluten again!) – which has afforded me with a little stamina to make some little adjustments; little internal (or external at times) push on the train tracks – ever so slightly array – so that a new course is set.

Today we altered our family course by handing over some checks – solidifying our decision to sacrifice some funds to the enrollment fee to get Ethan in with the waldorf co-op here in town, both for a 2 week summer camp as well as the 3 mornings per week “kindergarten” (ages 4-7) next year. I also went to my second “book discussion” group with the waldorf community (teachers, parents, etc) today – we are reading through Eugene Schwartz “The Millennial Child” – good stuff! (I’m embarrassingly fascinated by the history of educational pedagogies and parenting philosophies – this is my version of GEEKING OUT!)

Today marks day number 10 of our “zero screen time” policy for Ethan. It’s been wonderful, even though at times (like when it is cold and raining outside and BOY that PBS kids could come in handy with my wired and whiney 5 year old!) I have had to really dig in deep to establish this new rhythm and live in a new way with my children – where there is no alternative to living together, playing together, cooking together, gardening together; to set myself (and Chris) as the authority in this way and to respectfully deny Ethan access to ANY screen time (nothing that makes electronic noise – though I have caved to a little music now and then – I don’t think I’ll ever give up listening to the classical music and programming on NPR on the radio during the day!) I’ll go into this facet of our lives more in another post, as I continue to analyze and test this decision for myself (it is not without great theorizing – I am a Mass Communications major, after all!). For now, the TV lies helplessly in the corner of the living room with two big, lovely play silks hung over it – a fluid work of art rather than a black box of digitized entertainment. Of course, Chris and I have no such rules and will on occasion catch up on a show or two, or watch a film together, after bedtime hours.

Ver just insists on hanging by herself on the monkey bars – remember when it was that easy?!

Another post for another time will be my thoughts on how to merge waldorf and unschooling – two driving (for me) and seemingly opposing ways of not just schooling, or even homeschooling, but indeed of family life as well! I am sort of in observation mode at the moment – reading a biography on Rudolf Steiner while reading How Children Learn (Holt) and trying to find the nuggets that build the bridge between the apparent tensions in the two approaches. Also, I have the fortunate opportunity now to be in this book discussion group I mentioned, where one of the leaders is a veteran of “waldorf” and “unschooling” simultaneously with her own three children, all of whom are grown. Such a wealth of wisdom I think all of us younger moms feel when we can “sit at her feet”, if you will, and see how she creatively and by all accounts, successfully, merged these two methods that appealed so much to her (as they do to me). But as I said, that’s for another time. I’m still gathering my thoughts there.

Verity recently celebrated her 2 year birthday, a sweet moment where she shyly hid in my skirt while we sang “Happy Birthday”. Her cake was a gluten-free vanilla cake with cream cheese mango icing, decorated with violets from the yard and two little beeswax candles. Happy Birthday, angel!

Let’s see… last weekend, we hit the farmer’s market, potted some herbs in pots from the thrift store, made more stock, hit a few garage sales (found myself a fishing pole – I am beyond excited to go fishing soon!), and weathered a strangely cold and wet May weekend. I, however, got a mama’s day out on Sunday, and spent a glorious afternoon at Uprise working, to be followed by a free movie at RagTag Cinema (a perk of being married to an Uprise employee!) where I enjoyed (immensely!) the film Jane Eyre (SO good!) alone with a $2.75 glass of red wine on a cozy little swivel chair. Have I mentioned how very much I love that Chris works there?! What a treat! (I envision more of these rare and invigorating afternoons in my future!)

our bog…

In other news, we dug a rain garden in a moist area of a backyard to channel the overflow of our rain away from saturating all of the ground into a slippery clay during rains. Er… it is more like a bog at this point. I am awaiting some rain and some toads and tadpoles and dragonflies (hopefully very hungry ones who will happily devour the inevitable mosquito larvae the standing water will attract!). I want it to be more like a wildlife habitat/pond with some native shade loving plants in and around it and a small amount of water to support a healthy little ecosystem. I envision the day when I see butterflies, bees, water beetles, dragonflies, toads, birds, and whatever other critters will find a little tiny spot of nature in my urban backyard. Sigh. Patience!

showing off our backyard clay creations

Ethan has been busy shoveling soil – er, clay – and finding the BAZILLIONS of cicadas hiding a few inches below the surface – our chickens are downright gorging themselves on this steady helping of delicious bugs for several hours a day. Our backyard is an all-you-can-eat buffet for my hefty gals. The four pre-teen hens we got last month are already full of adult feathers and are learning to scratch around the run and eat grass and leftovers. So far, no crowing – a good sign we have all girls, and therefore will soon have 6 hens giving us at least a half dozen of free range eggs a day! To say I have chicken-raising fever would be an understatement. Ignoring the raised eyebrows of our family members several years ago, I set out to raise backyard chickens and have loved every minute of it. So easy, so rewarding, so fun. Every one should have themselves a pair of hens.

I needle felted the kids this caterpillar – I just love these little wool creatures and how “alive” they feel. A satisfyingly quick project for an evening with hubby away at ping pong night with some co-workers (dad’s night out!).

Tomorrow we have plans to visit Rock Bridge State Park to play in some creeks and have a picnic lunch with a family we met a few weeks ago (at their garage sale). The homeschooling mom of FIVE boys graciously called to invite us out – I know Ethan will have a blast. Oh – she is also passing on her huge blackboard to us, how cool is that? Surely a feature in the next “Simple Pleasures” series of gifted, bartered, thrifted, etc etc…

This weekend we head to Fayetteville, AR! Can’t wait to see my dear friends and family I have been sorely missing.

Well, here’s where I wrap up my ramblings and save the rest for another day. Until then…

As our family prepares for our move 5 hours north to Columbia, Missouri next weekend, many things have been discussed via our lifestyle once in our “tiny home”.

For those of you who are yet to be informed, I’ll try to backtrack quickly and sum things up: back in January we took a trip up there at the leading of some sweet friends whose family we know from church here in Fayetteville. A fun, flexible full-time job for Chris opened up in the coming weeks at a bakery downtown that focuses on sustainable and local ingredients. We went back up a couple of weeks ago to look for rentals and found an older, small (750 sq ft I believe), 2/1 house (but to be fair, also has a basement, shed, fenced backyard, and hardwood floors) in our price range (to my knowledge, the lowest rent I have ever lived in, even as a child), located just over 2 miles from his work (so he can bike most days and I can have the car for me and the kids again, woo hoo!), just under 2 miles from the main library and the waldorf preschool, and 2 blocks from the farmer’s market. Oh, and we can have 6 urban backyard hens – enlarging our flock

So we are preparing not only via packing, cleaning etc, but also by going over some possible challenges and adjustments we’d like to take this opportunity to make.

For one thing, our current house this passed year is the first single family dwelling we’ve ever had (previously duplexes and co-housing were our residence), and it is also the most square feet we have ever lived in (a 3rd bedroom). It hasn’t been all that great, to be honest. It’s a lot to clean and most of it goes unused. I couldn’t help but feeling like, so long as I wasn’t needing the extra space for childcare income, it really wasn’t part of our “living simple” plan. The old Less is More, thing. I have, as you may know from reading this blog any amount of time, been attracted to the “tiny house” movement and peruse my copy of “Little House on a Small Planet” often dreaming of the day we can move into a yurt in the pacific NW or a derelict cottage in rural France SO – while one perspective might be that I’m moving into a drafty tiny house in mid-Missouri, I’m looking at the upside; a cozy space with less to clean and more in line with our values of living small and treading light on the planet. In addition, it meets our requirement for affordability, which allows us to find work that doesn’t compromise those values. (Aside: like the Radical Homemaker 4 tenets: community, family, social justice and ecology – any job outside the home must honor these, which is a lot of the reason we felt we should take the slight paycut for Chris to take a job at the bakery close to home, rather than his current job in AR which is 40 minutes away in a cubicle in the logistics industry.)

Okay, so we are all caught up now and I’ll try to get back to my point.

This transition is in some ways another phase of our journey towards sustainable, simple, intentional living, and with that step we are considering our lifestyle choices, and how we use our time and money is one of the main concerns. With a small single-earner income, no health insurance, all credit cards closed (our plastic-free 3 year anniversary is almost here!), every little bit counts.

One decision we’ve made is to not have internet when we move. Our average bill for highspeed internet is currently around $70 a month, which will be about 6% of our spendable income. Since I currently plan to not work from home any substantial part of my day, we no longer NEED high speed internet for my business, and the only thing we do use it for beyond that is watching shows on Hulu after the kids go to bed, or streaming movies on Netflix (we don’t have cable). Basically, for entertainment, mixed with a little educational documentaries here and there, (as well as my favorite internet uses: browsing recipe sites, blogs I like, and checking my email and facebook, all of which I can do quickly with routine visits through wifi cafes or the library with my i-touch).

I must admit, I’m not sure how it will work (!). I won’t see the finale of the few shows I watch until they are available next season to rent on Netflix (I know, I know, boo hoo – but ya know, its an adjustment!) And if I have a sick day, snow day, rainy day, etc in which movies becomes my only aid in entertaining the kids, we won’t have the internet (which we currently hook up to via HDMI to our tv as a second monitor) at our fingertips. Hmmm… am I talking myself out of this? lol

No. I know it will be good for us, and what’s more, we are reallocating a portion of that money towards something more valuable – a family membership to the ARC (columbia’s recreation and activity center) that is conveniently located 2 blocks from our house. With the remaining 20 bucks we’ll put towards an outing once a month (like the Missouri Botanical Gardens, zoo, museums, etc).

I know this will be a challenge for our family, and we are not big TV viewers as it is, but having it for a few hours a week is one of the few “luxuries” we can afford and I’m wondering how we will adjust to being without it, particularly Ethan who is majorly into on-screen entertainment and games.

But as I was saying, we’ll have the ARC – the classes and indoor track and pool will be great escapes that are much healthier for us than a few hours of tv a week! Next, I’m sure we’ll get even more into our weekly library visit where we haul 50 or so books out at each trip. And finally, I think we’ll have more time to spend in our hobbies and crafts, gardening, reading, as well as keeping up with chores. When I think about the money AND time we will be saving, I admit I get pretty excited!

And this brings me to some broader reflections I’ve had of late. One of the things about trying to live more simply that I’ve enjoyed over the last, oh, 4 years or so, is the challenge of my personal comforts and the sense of accomplishment over realizing I can do without things I once couldn’t have imagined. Choosing to be without a car (when we have access to PDX mass transit), or sharing 1 (living in a small city as we do now), or learning to cook from scratch, or figuring out how to allocate money from eating out/entertainment towards whole foods and self-made fun, or learn skills we would have needed other people to do for us in the past. We’ve had to get creative with buying from furniture, clothes, and decor from thrift stores and craigslist so we could avoid cheap products at the cost of unethical labor at Big Box stores. I’ve taken on coordinating the local natural food bulk buying drop so I would have access to warehouse direct prices on “real food”. I have been more committed to the tenets of attached parenting and home learning because I have to take a closer look at why I feel like “giving up” when things get tough and increasing my knowledge and network so I don’t burn out.

But briefly, in the interest of full disclosure and lest I mislead with some ideological and euphoric description of what I have experienced thus far: sometimes this journey SUCKS. Somethings work and somethings don’t, and working through the stress of being financially strapped (not always by choice! -and losing a job/clients is never fun, btw) or the piles of wet clothes in the living room or the whiny kids on a rainy day with no escape from the house, or missing out on things I would have liked to do because of no vehicle, or worrying about how to the funds to get my kid’s cavity filled – oh yeah, its not always “simple” and definitely not always a breezy summer day of homemade bread and sippin tea!

But somethings are simple, and more importantly, everything is meaningful. I’m learning a lot, I feel more equipped, and I am looking forward to the next phase… the unplugged (internet-less) tiny house in Columbia

Ash Wednesday

Today was not exactly a showcase of my better self. Not that it was all bad or even the worst, but as it comes to an end I definitely feel regret over parts of my inner attitude, my impatience, my reactions, my selfishness, my ego, my inability to find “quiet center”.

I don’t even know if I know what quiet center is anymore. I read about it in writing class in college and I don’t even recall whose idea it was. Tolstoy? Tolkien? McLaren? Sting? {See, no idea.}

But it struck me as some sort of ultimate goal in life, or at least one of them. To find the center of oneself… more accurately, the heart… and there find a peace that passes all understanding. To feel a breeze and close your eyes and the world stops. All that is in you and around you is the breeze. Even the sound of the trees rustling or the smell of leaves or the itchy grass below – all of it is put out to the curb with the senses as you go beyond them into just being. Just breathing. Just breezing. Communing with the universe and the Creator of all things…

The life of a stay at home mom affords so few opportunities for quiet outside of myself. Even in rare moments where you might steal away, say, before the children wake up, there is the constant knowledge which compels you to stay in your consciousness because you know this time is not truly yours – even it is borrowed and can be interrupted any minute now by the sound of a waking child.

To find quiet inside and in the midst of it all is even rarer still, though at least I believe in some transcendental way it is attainable, though perhaps only with great discipline and character. A few seconds while washing dishes, looking out of the kitchen window, trying to capture the sound of my breath, to sigh a prayer, to smile internally with gratitude for Life itself, is about the closest I have come to finding a quiet center amidst the constant demands and responsibilities of child rearing.

Even as I type, I am simultaneously caring for a child, nursing my almost 2 year old, her awkward body slumping well passed my lap so as to force her gravity towards the floor; me, legs propped and/or crossed and arms contorted around her attempting, feebly, to hold her in place. She begins to slip, carrying my breast with her as far as it will flex, until her feet are now ON the floor and she is crying, “Hollme, mama! Nini, mama! Helbme, mama!” (Translation: “Hold me, mama. Nurse me, mama. Help me, mama.”) The most comical bit to this very real scene happening to me this very real minute is that I am so intent on getting a few minutes to myself to write that I hardly notice her until she is on the ground flailing to hoist her robust toddler frame back up on my petite legs, which are incidentally sore from packing for our move in exactly 11 days. (But who’s counting?)

I’m intent to tune her out, nonetheless. I made an Ash Wednesday pledge, if you will, to spend my Lent in *focused (*which I’ve come to realize is a very RELATIVE WORD.) writing each day, and dog gone it, I’m going to give it a hearty try. I may not always share it on my blog – actually I hope the majority of it stays well hidden. Some things just aren’t meant to be shared, especially not prematurely.

Since I suppose I am just writing for the sake of writing, I’ll kinda just keep going in a stream of consciousness way, and we’ll see where this goes, shall we?

I ordered a book recently, though I’ve likely had the funds to do so for some time now (which forces me to wonder just how much I have been avoiding this whole writing-practice-thing). The package arrived today, (with that annoying Amazon smiling face that reminds me that I coped out by supporting the “man” instead of the mom & pop, but that’s another story), and I felt truly as though it was packed with a significant, symbolic promise. A promise to tune in to my voice again. The book, if you’re curious, is called Writing Down the Bones. My writer neighbor recommended it to me when we first moved here, a year ago. A year of sitting on it, thinking about it, not sure if I could really prioritize it over {cleaning and cooking and marriage and diapers and gardens and playschool and work for textbooks or hotel food & beverage or small business industries… and, admittedly, over evening movies}.

But a writer is not content with not writing, because we know that not writing means not being true to the itch to do just that: to write for writings sake and with no real end to the means. To just intoxicate oneself with words and sentences and images and … well you get the idea. (Perhaps it is the intoxication behind the motivation?)

I approach the world of writing, of flinging myself carelessly into its rhythm, with a very little confidence, just a surplus of compelling instincts that make no rational sense. Will it be therapy? Doubtful – I will likely drive myself more mad. Will I gain something monetarily? Oh goodness, no. To satisfy my desire to label myself with a lofty vocational title? Puhleeze, who ever thinks “I’m a writer” is really a truthful statement anyway?

All I know is that I have to write again. I have to. I NEED IT.

That’s all. For now.

In this late afternoon I am watching the snow continuing to come down in drifts and flurries, as it has been since I was sleeping soundly yesterday evening. The yard is completely covered and we are completely content inside in the warmth. I have a candle going today, a reminder to pray for a sweet friend on this very special day. I’ll tell you more about that later

We read “The Big Snow ” and placed some seeds, blueberries, and puffed rice cereal outside for the birds, hoping the snow would let up long enough for them to find it before it too was enveloped in this white blanket. We have plans to make some coconut snowball cupcakes later and read more favorite snow books: “The Story of the Snow Children” and “Snowy Day“.

Sooooo white and fluffy – I have never seen anything like this. The perfect condition for a day of snow and more snow – this Florida-raised gal is impressed.

We just finished devouring some empanadas and I thought I should take this opportunity to tell you about them. Puerto Rican empanadas are a meat filled pastry of tasty goodness. In a pinch last month, Chris needed to bring a hispanic dish to a work party and we had to use what we had on hand. I decided to try my hand at these little half-moons of flavor, using this recipe as a guide. We took a bite. We swooned. Oh yeah, this is it. Chris declares it his favorite home-made meal to date, 9 years into our relationship. I promise to make Empanada night a staple, for my sweetheart and very bestest friend.

Come on, you know you want one:

I use local pasture raised ground beef, organic ingredients where applicable, and I don’t skimp on the seasoning. I use extra cilantro and tomato sauce, and throw some Adobe seasoning in as well. Also, I toss in a finely diced fresh jalapeno.

Rolling out the dough, folding over and pricking with a fork is becoming a rhythmic therapy, linking me in some small way to all the strong homemakers who have come before…

We do fry these, because the hubster wants authentic PR cuisine, but I believe a healthier version could be achieved from baking these little pies with a basting of extra virgin olive oil, too

The result is a hot pocket made for divinity.

Enjoy with a jug glass of rum, cranberry-blueberry juice, and you guess it – more cilantro! My original recipe

Where ever you are, whatever your weather, keep that kitchen rockin’!

1. Food. Food plays such an integral role in my life. Sometimes I have to pinch myself at the luxury, the vast riches, of the simple life. And yeah, I’m fairly ahem-poor-ahem, but I seriously and passionately believe you can’t put a price tag good solid nutrition or the health and life it brings, not to mention the good it puts into the world. (huzzah for food justice!) We continue to use the bulk buying club method and our local natural food co-op to try to make creative, affordable meals that are nourishing. Not always easy, but well worth the extra effort. Just one example: this morning I was making blueberry muffins (soaked whole wheat pastry flour, rapidura sugar, fat wild blueberries, organic oats = sweeeeeetness). I sprinkled the buttery chunks of streusel topping over the top of the muffin pan. Washing off in warm water, my hands felt the luxurious treat of a raw sugar, cinnamon, pastured butter, oat scrub no spa could replicate

2. The sun. Oh mister sun, sun, mister golden sun… The sun came out to play today, giving me time to hang two loads of laundry amidst a little crunch crunch from the lingering icy snow on the ground. The chickens couldn’t be happier to have water that didn’t freeze right away and plenty of fresh kitchen scraps to scratch around in. They even blessed us with 6 eggs this week (way to push through tough times, girls!) The kids, however, still deemed it too cold to hang in the yard with me, (those weak willed ruffians.)

3. Garlic. This may well have its own category because this little miracle bulb has really been helpful to me lately. You see, I get chronic sinus infections as well as a host of other inflammatory symptoms like itchy red patches of skin. I began drinking raw garlic tea and noticed how much quicker the sinus infection went dormant again. Then I read that in countries where they consume 10-12 raw cloves a day, garlic has been linked to reduced risk of cancer and a host of other diseases. I’ve since crushed a few cloves here and there through out the day, but my favorite is still that soothing tea. Now, before you go “GAHG!” let me walk you through the how-to and let you see for yourself how mellow this tea actually is: press 3 whole cloves of raw garlic in a mug. Wait 10-15 minutes for the good stuff to extract. Meanwhile, gently boil non-chlorinated water. Pour water over the garlic and add plenty of raw honey and fresh squeezed lemon. Once it cools enough to drink, sip it all and be sure to eat up the bits of garlic at the bottom. They are surprisingly delightful, not at all to pungent, this way. I’ve been able to stay on top of my sinus problems and my skin has been getting smoother each day. (I’ve also given up caffeine — yes, the former blogger of MamaNEEDJava! — and am watching things like alcohol and refined flours and sugars even more carefully – but that’s another post for another day).

4. Knitting. I know, I know, you can totally call my “duh” on this one but a list of my happy things would be not be complete without the noble mention of my favorite hobby. I’ve been feverishly finishing a layette for a good friend of mine’s baby shower tomorrow and the smooth organic cotton yarn has been a nice, effortless companion amongst a hard week of frigid temps, sick babies, and cabin fever. I’ll post pics soon (don’t want to spoil the surprise )

5. Damien Rice. Ohhhhhhh the Damien love is pumpin through my veins this week. The soulful harmonies with string and acoustic accompaniments – ugh- I… I’m without words, but not without tears. It’s moving, I tell ya.

6. Portlandia. The new show cracks me up and renews my heart for all things Portland. PDX love.

7. Beta fish. The re-homing and loss of our widdle kitty Paz last year has left a deep void that only owning another pet can fill. Alas, we are in way too much of a transitional phase in our lives to bring a furry critter along for the ride. But this week we got two beta fish (homed separately, of course) who floats their purdy wittle fins in graceful waves above natural river rock and spin circles around the living bamboo in their jar. Periodically they call a happy “Howdy” to the snails we bought to live with them (for real, its almost audible.) Not cuddle worthy, no, but entertaining and low-maintenance, yes. For now, that little space inside that longs for something alive to share our home with, (besides the constant stream of pests that try to take up residents here – the family of raccoons and the TWO venomous shrews we’ve captured), feels satiated.

8. A job. Today hubby finally moved from “temp” to a real bonafide job job within the company he’s been assigned to since September. While it’s not the career launching thing he is passionate about, it is slightly more security and slightly more pay, both of which contribute to slightly more peace of mind

9. Road trip plans. Chris and I are getting out of dodge next weekend for a quick trip up to Columbia, MO. We are scoping out the scene up there, seeing if we get that “home” feeling, and visiting with some sweet friends. Ver will come with, while Ethan will spend the weekend with his doting aunt, in the bliss of his older cousins full attention To say I CAN’T WAIT would be an enormous understatement. I’m already compiling playlists for our 5 hour drive… sooooo excited!

10. Annie Dilliard. Reading The Writing Life again. It always inspires me to dig deep and start the work of being a serious writer. Meh… we’ll see. Still, love her prose.

I leave you with a few more sweet moments this week: impression ornaments with homemade clay and rock photo/card holders, both inspired by GardenMama.

I was recently at one of those big chain craft stores for some unfinished wood supplies and noticed how nearly half the store has been recently turned into a seasonal craft section filled floor to ceiling with unnatural materials made to look like shiny, durable versions of their real counterparts (i.e. leaves, pumpkins, spiders, cats, snowmen, reindeer, poinsettias, you get the idea). I recall many years ago, living in a climate with virtually no noticeable change in seasons, how I loved when the store began carrying the seasonal items. One could drop hundreds of dollars on seasonal home decor meant to create an atmosphere of something we have, as a culture, abandoned: the bygone era, Little-House-in-the-Big-Woods-style simplicity celebrating nature, inspiration, creativity, and homeyness.

Clever marketing tells us to go out and spend money on these things to fill what is missing, to make our homes feel like something called life is happening in them. Genuine experiences have been replaced by photo ops at consumer venues (ice skating rinks, Santa’s lap at the mall, pumpkin patches in church lawns). These aren’t all together “bad”, and certainly lovely family memories can be had there, but there is always something our souls know is missing – like we are replacing something whole with something inherently broken and lacking. When we step back and look at the mirage of consumerist seasonal products and manufactured experiences, we know that deep down, it just ain’t the real deal.

I don’t believe the answer is to opt out of seasonal celebrations, to turn a nose up at the consumerism in defiance and solidarity, but rather to strive to reclaim the natural and simple ways we can celebrate holidays and changing seasons with an acute sense of responsibility to the earth and its inhabitants.

To do this, simply look around. Use your senses to take in what is happening in the less manicured spaces where you live (a preserve? natural forest? perhaps the wild corners of your own backyard!) and think outside the box about ways to bring those observations with you indoors, particularly through activities that the kids will enjoy doing with you. Allow the colors to inspire you; are they bright and lively Spring crocuses or the total simplicity of silent white snow?

Think about experiential ways to celebrate: learn a new seasonal song as a family, or start a seasonal garden. If you anticipate cooler weather this winter, don’t forget to make provisions for the birds and squirrels that will be coming through your property in search of a winter meal and fresh water. The memories you and your children will have from these non-consumerist activities will honor them throughout their lives.

A few things we have done in our home and at the playschool this month include:

1. Pine cone bird feeders: cover pine cones with peanut butter and sprinkle on bird seeds – even the youngest children love this! Hang from a tree branch near your window for some bird watching in the coming weeks.

2. Fall leaf prints: on your nature walk, collect fallen leaves and flat seeds, feathers, etc, and bring home to place under thin paper – even fall colored tissue paper – and rub with the side of a crayon — a beeswax block crayon works particularly well for this. The result, Ethan says, “is like magic!” You can hang these as is, or cut them out and glue to construction paper and laminate with contact paper to make Fall place mats. Or hang the tissue paper cut outs in the windows for the sun to shine through and illuminate the leaf prints. So many things you can do with them and they are truly a beautiful way to preserve Fall leaves.

3. Tissue paper window stars: So versatile, so pretty, and so simple. Bring nature’s palette into your home with these window stars you can create with the kids. There are a variety of tutorials online, simply google “Waldorf window star tutorial” to find some.

4. A Nature Mobile: Hang a branch wreathe with yarn or string and from it attach items you collect outside. This ever evolving chandelier is a simple and inspiring conversation piece through out the year.

5. A Nature Table: No waldorf home could be complete without one, but these should really be found in every home. Any small table or shelf will do, and the only rule of thumb is to again keep it simple and natural. We hang silk clothes of colors we see outdoors, decorate with found or made items to reflect what is happening seasonally. Our Fall table currently features a moss covered window sill (real harvested moss was found at the craft store!) with needle felted and wooden mushrooms popping out. The seasonal tree is adorned with Fall leaves we collected last year in Portland and dipped in all natural melted beeswax to preserve them. They are just as beautiful as ever and look great on the seasonal table without getting crinkly and brown. There are so many ways to “do” a nature table, just let nature inspire you and you are well on your way!

Our seasonal tree with beeswax dipped Fall leaves amongst the Michelaemus angel we made and a found blue jay feather

Needle felting wool into seasonal items is a fun and easy way to add nature-inspired figurines to your nature displays. Our squirrel, who we named Klickitat, loves to munch on our found acorns and tucks himself into his cozy pumpkin home each night

6. Log Boats: A favorite year round, log boats can be extra pretty when adorned with a sail of Fall leaves. Be sure to schedule a trip to a creek or water source to watch your ships set sail

7. Plant a Fall Garden: Now is the time, if you haven’t already, to turn over the spent late Summer garden, empty that compost, and get those Fall plants growing! Last week the play school kids helped me work the soil of our pole bean raised bed and planted two heirloom varieties of lettuce along with some red russian kale. If you live in milder climates, Fall is a great time to grow just about anything! Check your local nursery for tips on what to plant in your area, and when. Get those hands dirty!

8. Nature People: Use found items on your nature walks such as nuts, leaves, and moss, to put together little arrangements of nature people for your Fall displays and play time. The possibilities are endless!

9. Learn seasonal songs together: This month our circle time includes two new seasonal songs, October and Autumn Leaves are a Falling. Other resources include books like The Singing Year and CD’s such as Come Follow Me. We can’t get enough!

10. Go outside! Nothing can replace the magic and wonders found outside, particularly in wild spaces. Go on nature walks, visit state parks and local farms – whatever you do, just GO OUT and OBSERVE! You never know what will happen (If you’re feeling particularly nature handicapped and need help introducing your family to the outdoors, a few books I really enjoyed are Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder, I Love Dirt!: 52 Activities to Help You and Your Kids Discover the Wonders of Nature, and A Natural Sense of Wonder: Connecting Kids with Nature through the Seasons. Remember: Consume Less, Share More — check out your local library!)

HAPPY CELEBRATING!

“When a man suffers, he is most alone. Therefore, it is in suffering that we are most tested as persons. How can we face the awful interior questioning? What shall we answer when we are examined by pain? Without God, we are no longer persons. We lose our manhood and our dignity. We become dumb animals under pain, happy if we can at least behave like quiet animals and die without too much commotion.

When suffering comes to put the question: “Who are you?” we must be able to answer distinctly, and give our own name. By that I mean we must express the very depths of what we are, what we have desired to be, and what we have become. All these things are sifted out of us by pain, and they are too often found to be in contradiction with one another.

… If therefore we desire to be what we are meant to be, and if we become what we are supposed to become, the interrogation of suffering will call forth from us both our own name and the name of Jesus. And we will find we have begun to work out our destiny which is to be at once ourselves and Christ.

…Sin strikes at the very depths of our personality. It destroys the one reality on which our true character, identity, and happiness depend: our fundamental orientation to God.

… The effect of suffering upon us depends on what we love. … if we love ourselves, suffering inexorably brings out selfishness, and then, after making known who we are, drives us to make ourselves even worse than we are

[!!!] …When is suffering useless? When it only turns us in upon ourselves, when it only makes us sorry for ourselves, when it changes love into hatred, when it reduces all things to fear.

But the grace of Christ is constantly working miracles to turn useless suffering into something fruitful after all. How? By suddenly stanching the wound of sin. As soon as our life stops bleeding out of us in sin, suffering begins to have creative possibilities. But until we turn our wills to God, suffering leads nowhere, except to our own destruction.”

-no man is an island