Flying Squirrel

Friday Moment

2012-01-27T09:23:00.000-05:00

A New Rhythm

2012-01-25T13:11:00.000-05:00

Well hello there! It's been a while. I nearly forgot I had a blog.

We've been busy with a big life-style change this month, namely home school.

During the great January Reality Check Will and I realized we had to say good-bye to our beloved Wayside or else go to the poor house.

Wayside Academy is a beautiful independent school where our children were receiving a Montessori/Charlotte Mason-style education, along with sacred music, Mass and the blessed sacrament, an incredible nature study program, amazingly dedicated teachers...It was a real gift. We are so sad to leave, sad to not be part of the daily community of Wayside. We miss our friends and teachers.

This isn't the place to ramble about why we chose home school, but let's just say it was the only option.

Having been home schooled myself, it's familiar territory. It is very attractive to me philosophically.

Still, I was terrified. To me, home school is the door to complete chaos in my personal life. I feared it would bring to the surface all my worst habits: lack of self-discipline, lack of routine, pathological irritability with my nearest and dearest. I feared that I would be a frazzled, coffee addicted, exhausted, house-bound housewife, desperate to get away from her own offspring. Not exactly educator-material.

Still, what can you do? Public school is not an option for us. Wayside is no longer in our budget.

I rolled up my sleeves and marched in, resolved to make it work.

Here's what we've discovered in the past three weeks:

Instead of chaos, home schooling enabled us to find our rhythm—the natural rhythm that makes our family work.

Hugh "reading" to Matthias

A few small changes made all the difference—and yes, they require self-discipline, but the reward is peaceful children, a peaceful mama.

-We make the beds and get completely dressed before coming downstairs in the morning.

-I chucked the coffee. No need for stimulants when we can take the day slow, nap when we need to, design each day to suit our needs.

-Involved the children in meal prep and meal cleanup. No more rushing out the door with oatmeal all over the table. No more coming in the door at four-thirty PM with four hungry, whiny kids and no idea what to make for supper. Food is a major part of family life and I think it's important for each member to pitch in. The boys are learning little skills and responsibilities. (And man, I do appreciate the help!)

-A daily siesta. Yes, we do need a break from each other. All of us. To preserve charity. Everyone finds a different room (or at least a different bed) and a book or two, and chills out for an hour. No talking allowed. After siesta, harmony is usually restored between brothers. Batteries are recharged for the rest of the day's activities.

Siesta time for babes. Doesn't that look tranquil? (You have no idea what's going on outside the frame!)

-Began reading—fun reading—at every opportunity: Paddington Bear, the House at Pooh Corner, Farmer Boy, Narnia (again! and again!), the complete corpus of Beatrix Potter, Grimm's Fairy Tales, and untold numbers of picture books. It is so much fun and I think, though I'm not sure, that everyone's literacy has advanced...

-Discovered that the actual "work" of educating, whether sitting around the table with workbooks, or discussing a thermometer, or measuring dry ingredients, or making play dough elephants, is absolutely delicious. There is no joy on earth like seeing your child learn, watching him take in the world around
him and then create something in return.

I won't tell you about laundry. Or toothpaste on the mirror. Or any of those things. If you have any experience with homeschool you already know all about the housework fiasco. But I'll tell you about the fun stuff.

the little stove is made out of a wooden bread box— by my brilliant and creative friend Cassidy.

I try to cover two lessons per morning—a language and a math. Afternoons are for play and projects.

-Our basic curriculum:
-laying down the foundation of future learning with the toddler: beading, building, drawing, pouring, puzzles and "cooking" on his little stove— (I'll tell you more about that later.....)

-alphabets and counting with the four-year old.

-reading and math facts with the six year old.

Home schooling means having as much time as we want for art!

- I let go of my need to measure their progress against an artificial standard. (I would call our method "un-schooling" except that I know myself too well. "Un-schooling," would mean "not learning to read while mama sits on the floor and knits". I need some academic aspirations, and a schedule—no, not a schedule, but a rhythm, or it all goes to pot. )

What home schooling means to us, is that reading can begin when my child is ready, not when the Ontario syllabus says he must. He is not "behind" or "ahead". He's exactly where he should be according to his ability and interest.

Since we started home schooling, Willie jumped the big hurdle of discovering that reading is not just a sadistic exercise invented by his mother, but the way to get a story when mama's too busy to read aloud; also, writing is not a workbook exercise but a way to create stories and make lists of things he wants to buy and write messages for papa. A useful tool.

For Hugh, on the other hand, the alphabet is completely random, unrelated to anything in the universe. He's not interested. But he can listen to really great literature all day long. He's also got piles of poetry memorized. The seeds of literacy have been planted.

Matthias will be writing novels, soon.

art table

In short, I see my boys happy, busy, interested in everything. It feels right.

There have been days when we chucked it all in favour of a craft. There have been sick days when I just lay around nursing the baby and reading Peter Rabbit. There have been days when Willie has been consumed with zeal for math and we did nothing else. (Fewer of those days, of course). There have been snow days (finally!) which call for outdoor play while the sun shines.

The house looking all pretty and half-painted

Siesta

Coming home exhausted from a hunting trip. (Having caught a bear)

Counting

Chillin'

But the basic rhythm is there, and it's brought peace to our home. Sad as we are to say goodbye to the old, we welcome the new with great confidence.

Getting Better

2012-01-10T11:41:00.000-05:00

Eleventh Day of Christmas!

2012-01-02T16:34:00.000-05:00

Linking back to pretty, happy, funny, real...

Pretty. Not just pretty, but beautiful! The Nativity that the boys made. (I confess to scooping out a lot of decaying plant matter before I took the picture. There was also a wooly bear caterpillar inside, but he crawled out and got lost.)

Happy. This boy is happy. We are trying to give the boys plenty to do. Will gave them a broken printer to take apart. Bliss!

Happy. This baby is happy! Always happy! Rafe, we are so glad you came. You gladden our house.

Funny. Doesn't this picture look so safe? What with the carefully-balanced four-year-old, the table-scaling toddler, and the baby lying unbuckled in his carseat? All precariously balanced on the edge of the table? Not to mention knitting needles and hot drinks? Doesn't it look like a careful, controlling, good mother is keeping an eye on things? (Rafe's carseat says "Safety 1st"—which I think is funny.)

(Thank goodness there is a good mother, over there on the wall!)

Funny. Well, not that funny. Just a little bizarre. Will with socks resting on his shoulders.

Real.

Twelve Days of Christmas

2012-01-02T15:47:00.000-05:00

We spent most of the twelve days in cozy Combermere...

the chicken house, where dad's beloved hens are warm and spoiled....and still laying.

...which was delicious and wonderful. Everyone was sick with the flu, but Christmas is a good time for napping by the fire, sipping tea, and finishing handmade Christmas presents.

I made Matthias some little pants out of an old felted wool sweater. He looks like a little Scandinavian elf...

...and elf-like, he is nearly impossible to capture on camera. There was just enough sweater left over to make some leggings for Rafe. They protect him against drafts and the wool is so warm and cozy.

Just in time for the deep cold.

I'm knitting Will's other sock—my first pair! I don't know if I can adequately express the feeling of positive glory when I rounded that first heel. I can only compare it to Columbus' first sighting of land, or whats-his-name who was silent on a peak of Darien. The glory. The socks are beauties, but dang, even Will will have to wear them over his other socks. They are Simply Enormous.

Will studied and wrote papers all holidays, but not without getting in touch with his inner bananagram-champion. My sister and he did a Latin version of bananagrams, if you can imagine. I sat out and pretended to nurse the baby. My dad was awarded the prize for his enormous and impressive lies about word definitions.

Back home now, we are coddling the sickies, having another cookie, and savoring these slow days of Christmas.

Joy

2011-12-23T22:51:00.002-05:00

Merry Christmas to all

and to all a good night!

Fourth Week

2011-12-17T16:57:00.001-05:00

I'm trying to get away from the monster of "accomplishment" that gnaws at my breast this time of year. (I'm not referring to Raphael—I mean the metaphorical monster and the metaphorical breast).

During this final week of Advent, I am concentrating on moving peacefully amidst the great tidal wave of projects which I think (back in November) I can accomplish before Christmas —the baking, with all my floury, crumby, spready, spilly little helpers; the top secret knitting projects for a man with enormous feet, the handmade presents for godchildren, nieces, nephews, piano students...

See that baby down there? Oh good eyes!

It is such a great comfort that the Son of God was born into poverty and squalor; that, as Chesterton points out, the rich and the educated (who no doubt had beautifully decorated houses and perfect baking) were the last to arrive at the manger.

This picture is from 3 weeks ago—we've since found pants for Matthias

No matter what our house looks like or how many cookies we burn or how many handmade presents lie unfinished in the sewing room, Christmas will be beautiful, the Divine Incarnation will be beautiful...

...the most beautiful mystery, the oriens, the morning star rising in the East.

If I can remember to smile at the children (it's amazing how busy-ness will put a furrow in your brow) and enjoy them and their silly jokes and sing Advent songs while we work in addition to bossing them around, and if I can be Will's radiant wife, then perhaps the Divine Infant will find a home in our house this Christmas.

There are so many reasons to stop and enjoy the process, this "road to Bethlehem".

"Star in the East, the horizon adorning..." (shape note carol)

May your hearts be merry and your homes full of peace during this final week.

Advent Doings

2011-12-16T20:01:00.001-05:00

Here is our little friend who arrived on the Feast of St. Nick bringing chocolate loonies and peppermint candies and new books. And here is a little boy on that magical morning.

St. Nick was so easy to make (needle-felted head, body from an old sweater) that with the euphoria of the novice needle-felter I resolved to make a whole nativity set for the creche.

So far—one sheep.

The boys keep adding nature bric-a-brac to the stable to make a cosy nest for baby Jesus (mostly moss and rocks and spruce bows plundered from the woods.) I like to picture the Divino Bambino coming into our own habitat...in our case, a cold northern woodland full of pine trees and rocks.

I told them "one item per day...."

...which is certainly building anticipation.

Come Lord Jesus, and do not delay!

St. Nicholas Day

2011-12-04T23:05:00.001-05:00

source

A few little treats, a few new books, told us that St. Nicholas came in the night.

Every year I grow more fond of the kindly bishop.

Hugh was amazed that St. Nicholas managed to get down the chimney, since we have stuffed it with a towel.

He must have been paying attention to the stories last night because He and Matthias were playing that they were going to "Myrna"!

Happy Feast of St. Nicholas!

Friday Moment

2011-12-02T08:07:00.001-05:00

Homeschooling—without mojo

2011-12-01T10:51:00.000-05:00

Homeschooling....

....never stops.

Not even when I'm driving kids to "real" school, and back again, each day—almost an hour total. (This doesn't include getting four kids into/out of the vehicle!)

Driving time, in our family, is put to work. Driving time is for reciting poems, spelling words, going over "ways to make 10", or when everyone is too whiny and tired for mental work, listening to stories.

Right now we're enjoying the Hobbit (read by Rob Inglis), the Chronicles of Narnia (a dramatized version narrated by Paul Scofield), and most recently some BBC recordings of MacBeth and King Lear. These last aren't child-appropriate by any means, but the boys love them and I make allowances because, well, it's Shakespeare. In the words of Bertie Wooster, "You mustn't listen when a girl is giving you hell. It's like Shakespeare. It sounds alright, but it doesn't mean anything." Ha ha! For us that's true. I don't want my boys to understand the dark, sad, complicated, adult passions that drive Lear and Macbeth to ruin. Not without a dash of P.G. Wodehouse to lighten the heart. Plenty of time for that. For now, we just enjoy the thick, juicy, gorgeous English.

Anyway. Homeschooling. Because, as we all know, it's a way of life, not a system, right? Please say yes because I've lost my homeschooling mojo, my crafting mojo, my clean house mojo, and my day-planner. I've lost everything other than finding socks, keeping food inside people, and tending to various bodily functions.

I'm exaggerating. Are you kidding? Socks? What are boot liners for? Matthias hasn't even had pants for over a week. I'm not sure if this is because his pants were sucked into the event-horizon of laundry, or because he somehow doesn't have any.

Two blessings: First, Willie and Hugh like cutting paper snowflakes. We make snowflakes without cease. Montessori bases a whole philosophy on cutting paper—eye-hand coordination, valuable motor skills, concentration, not to mention the delight of random cutting—all the fun of destruction with the satisfaction of creating something beautiful in the end.

Even if every other ball gets dropped (not to mention pants), we have Shakespeare and paper snowflakes.

The second blessing is that Matthias copies whatever his brothers do, which considerably reduces my work.

Oh, and another blessing: Raphael sleeps. I don't expect it to last, but I don't need to tell you why this is boon to humanity.

So the homeschooling putts along, in spite of us.

Homeschooling—with Mojo

2011-11-29T21:35:00.001-05:00

Hey! Here's something to check out. You don't have to be a homeschooler to enjoy it. I've been watching these late at night while I nurse Rafe (and knit, of course) and finding out all those things I wondered about germs and DNA and evolution. I'm still in the biology section but I plan to go through chemistry, calculus, physics and all those things that scared me in high school. Except statistics. I'm not a monster.

Hedgerow Mitts

2011-11-24T00:36:00.001-05:00

A very practical lady I once knew said, "Knitting is for people who sit around all day". I think she meant it pejoratively, but here I am with a swiftly growing, ravenous Rafe nursing night and day and we're having a ball. (Or should I say a skein? Hahaha)

Knitting and nursing go together just dandy, in this mama's opinion—Rafe and I look into each other's eyes, he gets his sustenance, and I get mitts.

The pattern is the beautiful hedgerow mitts. I used sweater weight instead of sock yarn, so mine are a bit clunkier than Amy Ripton's elegant version. I also had to adjust the pattern a bit.

But they're stilll awesome. Fingerless gloves are the way to go for all the driving I do, not to mention tying shoelaces, wiping noses, zipping zippers, and putting mittens (back) on little hands...

Oh! Check out the background—after talking about it for five years, I'm finally painting the house! Paint! What a joy! Goodbye, icy mint green....

....hello warm smoke blue!

More pictures to come, after Latin Mass day and Advent festivities tomorrow. Will is part of a little choral group that gets together at our house for practice and brunch on Sundays. Fun but busy.

Happy Advent, for tomorrow.

Come Lord Jesus,

and do not delay!

These days

2011-11-21T12:09:00.000-05:00

Sanding, sawing, headgear, and Martinmas Day lanterns are just a few of the things we're really into these days.

A whole lot of love

2011-11-15T21:09:00.003-05:00

There's nothing more beautiful, aside from watching your baby become himself, than watching your baby become part of the family. While the love isn't always gentle love, it's always sincere, passionate, and brotherly.

the thick of things

These days I'm marveling at how beautifully each child has taken on his new role. Willie protects Raphael from errant blocks (and from Matthias' over-zealous, slobbery affection). Hugh cuddles Raphael in bed nearly every morning for about half an hour while I get everyone else up and going. I can already see a special connection between the two. Matthias rocks the carseat when Raphael cries, makes faces, and ~~rubs snot on~~ keeps Rafe entertained.

These days, I'm taking everything slow. The weather is golden. Matthias and I spend a little time in the garden every day just potting around, while Rafe naps in the stroller drinking in oxygen and sunshine. We don't get too much done. I'm way behind on all my commitments, not to mention the laundry. But we have a whole lot of love.

All Hallows Eve

2011-11-02T20:29:00.002-04:00

Matthias, 2010

Halloween 2011. There was so much mess and chaos and yelling that day, and the light was almost gone before I remembered to snap a picture for papa, who was still in Toronto missing all the fun.

Hugh—"I forgot my helmet!" Willie—"Hugh, you won't be a saint if you freak out."

Yesterday, my sweet mother came for a surprise visit and whipped up a wig and some fringed ponchos for Willie, while helping Matthias through a midlife crisis, telling stories to Hugh, doing puzzles, making sewing cards, pressing leaves, and telling me the whole time that I am a wonderful mother and coping very well.

The rest of the costumes we found in the costume box.

Hugh—"Yes, I will be a saint. I have a sword. See?" Willie—"No, Hugh. That sword's plastic."

Willie was an "Indian" for Halloween. He was also St. Joseph, a native Canadian saint and friend of the Canadian martyrs. Now I question his existence because I find no mention of him on Wikipedia. Did I dream him up?

Hugh was St. Martin of Tours, patron of soldiers. (It's all about the armour).

I got fearful at the last minute that we'd get in trouble for saying "Indian" so I told Willie he had to say "native".

Lady/man at the door—"What a nice little costume. What are you?"
Willie, quavering, "I'm an....Indian...." `

Hugh, firmly, "He's a native."

Everyone thought it was pretty funny and ribbed me for trying to be all politically correct.

Matthias missed halloween altogether, and as a result is a happy and healthy person this morning

I felt twinges of guilt about this, especially after seeing these adorable pictures from last year.

But the great thing about yearly festivals is...there's always next year, isn't there?

Thugs and Carpenters

2011-10-22T15:45:00.001-04:00

Burglar Hugh

Burglar Will

This is the gruesome remains of Will's building project in the back yard. I keep trying to clean it up (hence the garbage bags: some primitive sorting) but Will objects because the boys play with the wood scraps and learn valuable skills. I'm a bit huffy about it, but yesterday I came around to seeing the beauty when I came outside to find that my little thugs had helped themselves to nails, hammers, and paint and were building signs in the back yard.

the painters' palette

first stage of construction

Hugh was pretending not to be cold all afternoon.

Here are some of the lovely signs all finished. "Stop" and a fancy star. The boys have been burglars this week, since reading Burglar Bill—a family favourite— with Grandma.

Cranberry Cowl Pattern

2011-10-19T23:24:00.002-04:00

The Cranberry Cowl

{the humble cranberry—a great healer, a gourmet food, a Northern comfort—

I named this pattern for the humble berry that brings such health and comfort each Fall. The "cranberry pattern" is a simple horizontal lace pattern that makes a bold statement in chunky wool}

guage: 3 stitches per inch
materials: 16'' circular needle, size 10.5 US (or size you need to produce guage), tapestry needle, place marker (optional)
yarn: chunky (I used Bernat roving for the cranberry cowl in the picture)

CO 70 stitches
join in the round, being careful not to twist stitches, place marker to mark beginning of round (optional)
Knit in garter stitch (alternate knit round/purl round) for 4 rounds
Switch to stockinette (knit each round)
Knit 2 rounds
Knit cranberry pattern as follows:
   round 1: Purl
   round 2: Knit
   round 3: Purl
   round 4: {wrn to m 1, sl 1, k1, psso} repeat to end
   round 5: Purl
   round 6: Knit
   round 7: Purl

Knit 4 rounds
Repeat cranberry pattern
Knit 4 rounds
Repeat cranberry pattern
Knit 4 rounds
Repeat cranberry pattern
Knit 2 rounds
Garter stitch 4 rounds, beginning with a purl row
Bind off loosely
with tapestry needle, weave in ends

Cranberry Cowl

2011-10-19T23:20:00.000-04:00

I didn't bounce back as quickly as usual after Raphael's birth due to a couple of post-partum infections (nothing some long baths in herbal tea and seasalt couldn't take care of—thanks, sweet Rachel!—and some pots of cranberry tea). My long-suffering mother has been captive here, taking over my duties while I nap. Kind friends have brought meals.

As frustrating as it is to be off my feet (and during the most beautiful weather of the year!), it hasn't been all bad: I devised my first ever knitting pattern! See the "tutorials" tab above for a free knitting pattern. A little gift, just for you!

I have this uneasy feeling, because it's so simple, that it's not actually original. Surely somebody, somewhere, has already thought of this combination?

The cranberry cowl is a simple horizontal lace pattern knitted in the round in chunky wool. I've worn it all Fall, and it is so cozy and pretty! It is named in honour of the humble cranberry which has brought so much health and healing this past week

The Labour Sweater

2011-10-15T21:40:00.002-04:00

(warning: another knitting post)

When I realized I was in labour (for real, this time) I called my sister and told her to get on the next bus. It was 5 am (yes, she's a good sport!) and the house had been spotless since the wee hours of the night, so I felt I needed something to do with my hands.

Fortunately I have bookmarked on my computer all those wonderful knitting patterns you think you have time for, but never get around to, including this simple, highly adaptable, beautiful one. It's a wrap-around kimono for newborns, knitted back and forth on a circular needle.

I took down my basket of scrap yarn—those tiny little balls leftover from other projects—and started twisting yarns together to make a thick-and-thin chunky yarn of variegated colours to match the guage.

When my sister arrived we chatted, joked, watched british comedy on youtube, laughed so hard it brought on contractions (just on me; she was safe), and drank tea. All the time I twisted wool and knitted back and forth on this tiny little sweater.

It was therapeutic to work with such beautiful rock and ocean colours. And keeping my hands busy kept my mind off things.

All morning and afternoon when the midwives arrived I kept twisting and knitting and thinking about the little body that was going to fill it, and longing to see him.

Eventually I had to abandon the sweater to focus on birth (it was a beautiful birth, as I mentioned before), but I finished it in the next few days post-partum while I nursed and snuggled with Raphael.

It isn't exactly a cuddly baby piece but see how strong it is! A free standing sweater!

The super fat yarn ended up producing a sherpa-like sweater suitable for horseback riding in Mongolia. Also when we take Raphael up Kanchenjunga he'll remain warm and dry.

Well, alright, at least he'll be safe from the Fall winds when we walk to the libarary.

After scouring Ravelry for the perfect baby kimono: seamless, raglan sleeves (the best construction, in my beginner's opinion), oh, and free, I found the beautiful pattern on sockpixie's blog. It is so simple and versatile, I've already thought of half a dozen variations for future sweaters!

But right now Rafe and I are happy with one, warm little wrap-around sweater.

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
and the snow come tumbling from the sky...

Friday Moment

2011-10-14T07:50:00.000-04:00

His Nook

Early Days

2011-10-13T15:48:00.003-04:00

What a welcome this Baby has had! Into the arms of family and friends, into the chaos of a house overflowing with kids (are there really only four?) into the bliss of newborn-worship, his first week of life has been so full: of love, milk (milk everywhere), eager anticipation from three little boys who are watching his first fluttering little open eyes, his yawns, smiles, hiccups, and facial expressions (variously interpreted). Yes, this boy is well loved.

I haven't quite emerged from the post-partum fog where there's no night or day and pumpkin pie is an excellent breakfast choice.

My beautiful mother is staying with us and indulging this kind of post-partum ennui by doing all my dishes and laundry and taking the boys to the zoo. (Matthias has transfered all his affection to her, and who could blame him?)

The birth itself was beautiful—a little slower than the others, more peaceful and prayerful having just finished reading Writings from the Philokalia and learning about "prayer of the heart." Most of labour was spent alone with Will, my labour superstar, either resting in his arms or walking around the hallway. I had a little vigil light burning in front of the San Damiano crucifix which was a wonderful focus in all that birthing.

Raphael was born in the bathtub—which, for all you people interested in home birth, is a quick, easy cleanup! He came fast and safely. My youngest sister was also present at the birth. She is an expert administrator of lemon water and I highly recommend her as a doula.

Maybe sometime I'll post the uncut, extended birth story.

Right now I'm too busy staring at Raphael, eating his toes and rubbing that amazingly silky little head.

—By the way, we're pronouncing it "RAY-fi-el", the British way, to go with our last name. This has caused a lot of confusion amongst good Catholics who wonder why we'd go with a heathen name like Rayfield? But there it is. At least it's not Romuald.

He's Here!

2011-10-06T11:34:00.002-04:00

Raphael Joseph Romuald Augustine

born at home

Oct. 5

9 lb 6 oz

safe and healthy

Deo gratias!

Waiting

2011-10-03T11:57:00.001-04:00

As baby's due date has come and gone, I've found myself having to let go of items on my "before-baby list." The house will not be painted. The plastering will not be done. The freezer and the oven are both on the fritz.

But I'm ever so grateful for the little pockets of peace and organization:
—a basket of baby clothes fresh from the line
—a peaceful little nook for the new baby (Thank you, dear Ulmer family, for the beautiful hammock!)
—some orange flannel to wrap the baby bunting in...

Now we are just waiting. Waiting, baby dear!

a quick gift

2011-10-02T11:48:00.003-04:00

A friend of ours was turning five and needed a present on the very afternoon that Matthias decided to peel the semi-dry black oil paint off the stairs and smear it on himself and the walls. He did it swiftly and quietly, the clever boy, in about 15 seconds. When he was finally scrubbed—within an inch of his life—and put to bed, he took off his diaper and pooped on everything. Everything. I can't say I handled it very graciously.

So instead of the grand crafting afternoon I'd planned, we made some quick dragon mittens for little Willie.

They're my new favourite winter kid gift—four buttons and some scraps of wool felt, and a snakey looking nose embroidered on the front. Easy peasy. Credit to Martha Stewart blog.

Child Placket Sweater

2011-09-29T20:51:00.002-04:00

Gracious heavens I nearly forgot to show off the knitting!

This is the child placket-neck sweater. It's a free pattern (of course!) and can be found on ravelry with additional (printable!) help from here. Joelle's directions are somewhat minimalist. I love the raglan shaping all the way up to the neck. The sweater looked very manly and proportionate on Matthias before he tore it off screaming, "No! Baby! 'Fias no Baby!" He knows what he likes.

I did not make the owl. I saw it in a store, and said disparagingly, "I could make that", determining to go home and make it. That evening I realized I could either stay up until 1 am and make an owl, or be a nice mother next day. I couldn't do both.

Clay buttons from White Duck Pottery in Combermere. Quick! White Duck is going out of business! Angela, I told you I'd have the perfect project for those buttons!

unblocked, still

Grateful

2011-09-27T13:30:00.002-04:00

Today I am grateful for:

—the incredible outpouring of love from this community of women, who held a "welcome baby" celebration for me this weekend.

I am truly overwhelmed by the love and generosity for this fourth baby, by the sheer volume of gifts from such busy, hardworking women, and by the evident joy for yet another new life in our family.

While I privately feel the exhilaration of welcoming our new baby, and my own little family is excited and prepared, I'm fully aware of how crazy it all appears from the outside.

These are women are mostly older than I, mothers of large families themselves, who have been childbearing for a lot of years. They are so wise, funny, and practical. They have suffered deeply, and yet laugh so easily. I am truly humbled by the love they showed me and by the wisdom and humour I learn from them.

—this great little soul, growing into a little boy: my love Matthias.

The bathroom is a place of rest and meditation for many of us.

—pink champagne. Well, actually grape and cherry juice fermented with water kefir grains for bubbly goodness. I'm doing experimental batches to have a really good brew ready for celebrating new baby.

—And a new favourite sandwich: slices of pear and mozzarella on croissant, with a little cinnamon and crabapple preserve (a gift from another fantastic woman in our community.) Just look what it's done to my belly!

—magnatune. Baby and I and Matthias have been enjoying Boccherini and Vivaldi and beautiful Eastern vocal music.

In these tired, late days with their aches and pains and frantic busy-ness, there is so much beauty to keep us going!

More Nesting

2011-09-26T13:13:00.000-04:00

My neighbour laughed at me outright the other day, as I was spray painting lawn furniture—"Didn't you do this last time you were nine months pregnant?"

spray painting and renovating

Of course! 38 weeks gestation is the biological cue to start painting furniture. When I was expecting Hugh I painted it all white, with Matthias it was red (from reading Carl Larsson). This time it's all black and sophisticated.

Except for the things I'm painting white... (yes, that's an ironing board getting painted. I tell you, people: it's bonkers)

Not to mention the clorox. Where does this instinct to bleach everything come from? I don't even believe in using bleach!

Just a few more walls, baby, and then you can come.

Soon baby! Soon my love!

This is the first year Will and I have been able to "put by" a little harvest. Just blanching and freezing so far. The tomato sauce gets eaten as fast as I can make it.

Baby Matthias

2011-09-22T12:15:00.000-04:00

How did this little boy get from here,

to here,

To here?

I'm always amazed at the way each new baby dovetails into our life. Since his birth, Matthias has been our constant delight with his strong spirit and his happy heart. Keep growing, Matthias, keep teaching us. Happy Birthday, my little love.

A Beautiful Day

2011-09-20T20:56:00.002-04:00

In between the painting, the bleaching, the harvesting and food preparation, the renovation of furniture, the folding and refolding of baby clothes, and all the other frantic pre-baby "nesting," we are blessed with a quick visit from a beloved cousin from New Zealand.

Anna is a firefighter (or Fireman Girl, according to the boys) and triathlon gold medalist—at the international police and firefighter games: Way to go, Anna!

The boys were thrilled to see her pop her racing bike out of her car and assemble it in a couple seconds. Then she patiently shambled along at the unbelievably slow pace of Hugh and Willie's tiny bike wheels—which revolve for dear life to keep up with the big bikes!

We had a beautiful day finding fossils and climbing willow trees. Such a welcome rest, such a beautiful memory, such a wonderful young woman to bless our home right before baby comes!

Matthias and Anna blissed out.

God speed, Anna! We will miss you!

Nesting

2011-09-16T07:54:00.001-04:00

Katie, Uncle Ben, and hangers-on

We've been blessed to have a wonderful young woman living with us these past three weeks: Katie (or "Dee" as Matthias calls her) has become a very special person in our life. (Pictured here with my brother Ben, who's the special person in her life.)

I know I'm insanely lucky to have her, so I feel shy even mentioning it. I mean—my own personal nanny for three weeks! Her visit coincided with Will starting his PhD, the boys starting school, and me reaching the final countdown to the birth. It's made all these transitions possible, and even peaceful! I don't know what I'd do without her.

Probably a lot less painting. Thanks for everything Katie! We miss you!

Painting the Stairs

2011-09-15T09:46:00.009-04:00

note: edited to link back to Pretty Happy Funny Real from Leila's wise and funny blog. I found the whole escapade to be totally hilarious, as well as pretty, funny, and real.

I painted the stairs last night. I do love the classic, glossy, black-and-white steps. They're just right for the age and ahem decrepitude of our little house.

stranded...

...with three children

Lots of touchups to do. Note to never use dollar-store paintbrushes again.

However, this morning we discovered that it hadn't dried. Disaster! My family was stranded upstairs, and I was stranded downstairs. (I'd slept on the couch.) That's a lot of stairs between a pregnant woman and the bathroom. Will responded in an enterprising, if somewhat humourless, way...and rigged up a basket so I could send up breakfast.

the lowering basket

So far, everyone is having a lovely morning of play and philosophy reading, with the promise of watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang later when the fights begin. I am documenting it all from the safety of the couch.

An emergency call for Plato and more salsa

Popcorn for breakfast, and school is cancelled!

And fortunately we have kind neighbours who will take pity on a pregnant woman and let her use their bathroom!

Shed Chronicles- 2

2011-09-13T07:23:00.002-04:00

I'm overdue for a little show-and-tell of Will's shed. We decided to turn it into a little study for Will, with a loft for guests. Will moved in before it was even finished. There's a lock on the inside—he's in heaven!

Will spread a concrete floor and arranged a little stoop from crushed chimney pots—which we just happened to have lying around. I'm going to sneak some moss in between those sharp edges, just to age it, you know?

The flooring of the loft is some old boards from Will's ~~junk pile~~ collection. He planed them down just enough, and left some grey "aged" bits which is lovely though hazardous to bare feet. A little finishing is still needed.

The man who did the plastering. (Hey cutie!) Outside the window are apples trees, comfrey, and squash vines. And the compost.

Windows were free on kijiji, which makes us all very happy.

Bookshelves, and we're all ready to move in!
There is a very calm, peaceful, studious feel to this shed. As our friend John says, it just makes you want to sit down and learn an obscure language.

First Day of School

2011-09-11T17:04:00.000-04:00

So we've started real "school" and everyone is very happy, except mama who misses her boys so much. (Don't worry, I'm finding ways to pass the time!) Here are the two school boys, with Matthias in there like a dirty shirt.

Seriously pumped.

Seriously annoyed because he wasn't allowed to stay.

Willie's lovely classroom. Willie is one of those gratifying children who like to sit quietly and do worksheets, so no worries there. And Hugh?

Hugh and Matthias in Hugh's Montessori classroom, which, after a tent on a North Pacific beach, would be my favourite place to live. These pictures were taken about five seconds after arriving. Hugh is in heaven.

Purple 2

2011-08-27T18:44:00.000-04:00

Hmmm....What to do with this cheesecloth I've got hanging here?

It sure is a gorgeous colour!

Hmmm....maybe after I've picked out the fruit flies and the itty-bitty pieces of grape skin....

The cheesecloth is now a scarf!

What do you think. Should I open a shop?

Tummy

2011-08-26T12:44:00.000-04:00

Pretty, Happy, Funny, Real

2011-08-25T11:50:00.003-04:00

Linking to Pretty, Happy, Funny, Real, today.

...from Leila's fabulously funny and wonderfully wise blog.

I know I'm a little late for the Entranceway show-off, but if you only knew the work that went into this entranceway!

This is our side porch, which is our main entrance.

Pretty. Well, pretty is happy.
Carpet removed. Concrete painted. Curbside furniture spray-painted black. Likewise the dogfood bin. (Oops! How did that pot get there?)

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I don't have any "before" pictures, but let me describe it as seriously gross. There was an "outdoor carpet" (who invented those?!) compacted with dog hair and sixty years of muddy boots. Earwigs lived in it. There was curbside furniture on it. The toys were kept, sometimes, in a broken basket. But mostly strewn all over the porch. The exposed concrete had several colours of flaking, probably toxic, paint.

How can anyone live like that? Well, I kept waiting for the Big Reno, so I never bothered to tend my little space.

Here is my happier and more hospitable entrance. Thanks for the inspiration, Leila!

Happy. See how happy the dog is? She loves pretty entranceways. She loathes unpainted furniture.

More happy. Note the aesthetically un-offensive and practical toy bin. And the pile of knitting on the chair, just waiting...

Funny. Ah! Aesthetically-pleasing sticks of birch. Does the bark come off?

Why yes, it does! How fun. Who needs bubble wrap?

Real. A good day's work. Baby and dog are well-contented with their birch-shredding efforts.

Purple

2011-08-25T10:51:00.017-04:00

Shorn

2011-08-23T22:52:00.000-04:00

And...

the hair....

is off!

Wild Grapes

2011-08-22T21:24:00.001-04:00

They keep for weeks in the fridge. Good thing. The jelly-making process is slow, fun, and very very purple. Purple in the fridge. Purple on the baby. Purple on the floor. Purple on the counters. Purple up my arms!

But it's so worth it for the beautiful evening of collecting wild grapes.

Picking off Bugs?

2011-08-19T07:30:00.000-04:00

February Baby Sweater

2011-08-17T22:45:00.000-04:00

(warning: another knitting post)

I finished my first little sweater! I couldn't be more thrilled, although it was a "learning" sweater and there are three or four goof-ups. For example, the aesthetically pleasing shell buttons are extremely sharp and threaten to slice the button holes. (Doesn't that sound so safe? Oh my )

The yarn is from Briggs and Little, one of the last remaining (and oldest) Canadian wool mills. It still smells like sheep. The yarn, that is. The doll is Bilbo Baggins, made by my talented mother.

Sorry, Mum, that IS stuffing you see in Matthias's hands. Bilbo is scheduled for surgery today, and I'll sew him right up.

Oh, and the pattern! Elizabeth Zimmerman's brilliant February Baby Sweater, found in her Knitter's Almanac. It's knitted on two needles and is virtually seamless! My mods: stocking stitch body instead of lace pattern; sleeves were knit in the round on four needles (because I hate sewing seams).

2011-08-13T11:26:00.003-04:00

Hello friends! I'm linking you to an online version of our latest Summer issue of Soul Gardening, for those who want to view it in person!

Check it out and let us know what you think!

Folk Art Panel

2011-08-11T08:12:00.002-04:00

(another sewing post)

After wrecking the pantry doors through attempted renovation plus appalling ignorance

wrecking my cupboards

...I had to make an emergency curtain.

It turned into a really fun free-form sewing project. I started by cutting shapes at random and pinning them to an old sheet...

...that had already lived a long and useful life as a sheet, a duvet cover, and a chair cover.

I Then I sewed it all down with zig-zag stitch and machine-embroidered some wood-grain onto the tree. I have to say that feeding this much fabric through the sewing machine, with pins sticking out in every direction, felt a bit silly. There probably is a better way. But it was so lovely in the end!

A bit of embroidery here and there. I'll do more when I've gotten some other projects off my chest.

Soul Gardening—keeping alive the printed word!

2011-08-09T16:45:00.006-04:00

important update: I made a change to the subscription info! See below for details

This is a plug for a project I've been involved in for the past year-and-a-half.

Soul Gardening is a journal written by Catholic mothers for Catholic mothers. (Although you certainly don't have to be Catholic to enjoy it!)

It's a collection of articles on topics as varied as baking, the spiritual life, kids art, cultivating romance with your husband, and ideas for celebrating the liturgical year, to name a few! It is the original work of 4 contributors plus guest writers.

It also includes:

- recipes (tried and true! A great resource)

- a "Thrifty Wife" column with practical ideas for frugal living,

- a children's section with poetry and rhymes (this is my personal favourite, as I'm always looking for seasonal poetry for my kids)

- book reviews

- original art

- and lots more!

Soul Gardening is currently falling below the cost of production, and we are desperately hoping not to raise the price. We want it to be affordable for mamas everywhere. That is why I am writing to ask: Would you consider getting a subscription, for yourself or a friend? (This would make a lovely shower gift for a young mother or bride!)

The subscription is $16/year US, $18 Canada, $20 International; four issues per year

You can pay by paypal to soulgardeningjournal@gmail.com; or send a check to Elizabeth Peck P.O. Box 5132, Bremerton, WA, 98312

See here for more details.

I have to say, in all objectivity—even though I'm involved in the behind-the-scenes toil—that finding the latest issue of Soul Gardening in the mail is a big treat! It's not often that we get original reading material, especially material that feeds directly into our daily life.

Thanks, everyone!

Mary

Our Transport 2

2011-08-08T11:23:00.000-04:00

her name is Hildegard, after Hildegard of Bingen

Our car is un-retired. Back on the road. No longer pushing up the daisies.

As much as we are reveling in the luxury, I look back on (yet another) summer of car-less-ness with much gratitude.

We are all in better shape.

Will and I spent a lot of time together, getting around on bike or foot. We talked to the kids. We talked to each other. When we went places as a family, each pulling a bike trailer overflowing with kids (oh, are there only three?), we had real, uninterrupted, grownup conversation! Not just the necessary husband/wife interchange about who left the fridge door open, but good stuff: environmentalism and the prolife movement (he talks, I listen), Waldorf pedagogy (I talk, he listens), our dream farm in the clouds (we both talk and talk).

We felt the temperature change and "smelled" the seasons...the mud, the new leaves, the melting snow of early spring, the rich grassy smell of summer, and the dry, crickety smell of August.

toiling

As I began to slow down in my third-trimester tiredness, I stuck closer to home. I learned to love being where I am without relying on spontaneous travel to "escape" the duties of daily life.

We saved all kinds of money because we couldn't just run out and buy whatever we needed. We usually found we could do without, anyway. Or make it ourselves. Summer gas-prices didn't ruffle our feathers.

early spring romp

The lessons in simplicity of life abounded! I am so grateful for this time.

And now that I'm big as a whale and tired as an old coon hound, I'm grateful to sink into the car's seat, again!

I'm sure I wouldn't be quite this grateful without the summer of cycling.

Not So Little Anymore

2011-08-07T11:59:00.000-04:00

Making Stamps

2011-07-30T11:37:00.001-04:00

During the thundershowers this week we busted out a new craft.

Making Stamps

Materials:
*sheet foam
(available at craft stores—

we used an old camping mat)
*scissors
*blocks of wood
*glue (we used UKKY)
*ink pad

Directions

sand wood blocks, if necessary
cut foam into shapes
glue shapes to wood blocks, making sure to leave some sides free for gripping
stamp on ink pad and apply to everything!(note: foam seems to absorb more ink and stay wet longer than regular rubber stamps. This craft was a bit too inky for my littlest ones)

sanding the blocks

cutting foam—this stage went on for days and was incredibly fun.

knitting needles make a good awl

foam shapes glued to blocks

Words must be backwards, of course! (How do you think we figured that out?)

the children liked my stamps best

I liked their stamps best

Our Transport

2011-07-29T13:49:00.000-04:00

Home Again

2011-07-26T20:16:00.000-04:00

After ten intense days of beaches, fun, chaos, joyful reunions, sad partings, "camping" at my parents', where there was no less than fifteen extra bodies—including uncles, aunts, cousins, beloved old friends and their babies...after ice cream cones, raspberry picking, first swimming experiences, loose teeth, near-drowing experiences (yes, in the plural....And do you think it slowed him down?)....we are home for a little rest.

* * *

Thank you and goodbye to all our dear ones departing for distant coasts. Thank you for all the love. We keep you in our hearts.

Shed Chronicles Part I

2011-07-15T22:41:00.009-04:00

We decided to get a jump-start on our Fall renovations this week. Stage I—build a shed.

The boys are in heaven. Not only do they get to watch papa build with power tools, they also get to fetch water, return water bottles to kitchen, stand very close to a beloved uncle and ask endless questions, and collect scraps of wood for their own "building projects."

That wild, bushy cedar in the way is part of our "hedge."

The shed takes up most of the cement driveway—really, it's incredibly massive.

Below—that's our neighbour's house, so you can see why I don't mind having a giant shed go up. That's our neighbour's car (the small red one) which we borrowed so that Matthias would stop riding the air compressor!

This is the first of a series of topless pictures of Will. (Just kidding, dear.)

We're loving this pretty fab pre-fab. I suspect my husband had to swallow a lot of pride to buy pre-fab wood panelling...wait, Will—isn't that...fake wood panelling?

But it looks good, even up close!

And a stiff wind won't blow it over.

Will and his brother framed it and sided it and trussed the roof (if that's a word) in a day and a half. You rock our world, Uncle Christian!

Here's another view, to put it in perspective. Really, that hedge!

We're already dreaming of all the wonderful things we're going to do with this shed!

Lavender Love

2011-07-14T13:19:00.002-04:00

I've always had a special affinity with lavender, but believed it "couldn't" be grown in this climate (Eastern Ontario, with its long winters). I'm so happily proved wrong. Apparently, it only needs a warm wall and a little neglect. This year my plant was bushy enough for harvesting and I've been attacking it with scissors. Alas, I didn't get a picture when it was in its full glory...it was a sight to behold.

Lavender bundles, hanging out with the pots and pans

Lavender is easy to dry and keeps its colour and fragrance for a surprisingly long time.

1) The secret to keeping its colour is to protect it from sunlight. 2) The secret to keeping its shape is to hang it upside down. 3) The secret to keeping its fragrance is storing it in airtight containers.

I've been hanging lavender bundles in paper bags to dry, then moving it to ziplocks to await its fate.

A Quick Fix

2011-07-12T20:17:00.003-04:00

...for my poor kitchen window. For the past five years, my neighbour Andrea and I have been staring into each other's kitchens. We give friendly waves while we're doing dishes. In July, with the windows open, we can hear each other's discussions with the kids about what to have for breakfast. I don't mind, I really don't. But sometimes you just want to keep your dirty dishes to yourself.

The solution? A birch stick from the boys' (vast) stick collection, some pleasing strips of fabric from the stash, and ring clips to hold it up (bought last year and never put to use). The frugal option is so often the spiffiest, isn't it?

Oh, and I nearly forgot to credit my good friend Erin for the idea in the first place. Erin, did you even know how much I love your house??!

What We're Enjoying Right Now

2011-07-09T08:25:00.002-04:00

...Will's beautiful beds at the community gardens.

Going down to the gardens is part of Will's daily rhythm (twice-daily, actually), along with Foczka and the occasional little helper.

Happy Gardener

Matthias is determined to help, although he still needs his little feet directed out of the seedling beds.

Foczka and Oslo, her gardening pal.

Hugh is very serious about working. Check out his work gloves—they're so great! He made them himself out of plastic bags. Actually, they're just plastic bags. But as his mother, I find this quite clever.

They're actually on top of a straw bale, which explains the euphoria.

Always thinking.

Hugh is our most determined worker. He planted a good part of the garden with his papa, and he knows all the plants by name, including the "swiss charge." Willie and Matthias adore being with their papa, and everyone loves rolling down the big hill at the liftlock. My job is to admire everyone's work, taste the little seedlings, and make big plans for all those tomatoes.

Genius Baby

2011-07-08T09:24:00.000-04:00

He left his pipe and violin at the door.

Gnomey Hat finished

2011-07-04T19:01:00.003-04:00

This is the the wonderful gnomey hat pattern from Hello Yarn. You can download it here. I excluded the pompoms, as my boys would pick them apart in one day—it's like bubble wrap for them. I added bobbles instead.

The boys said, "Oh look, Bilbo Baggins (the doll) has a helmet!" and when I told them it was a hat for the new baby, they thought that was the awesomest thing ever—a helmet for the baby!

They want helmets of their own now. I wonder....with some chunky wool in steely grey....

Weeds That Heal

2011-07-02T19:58:00.000-04:00

Thank you, to those sweet friends who inquired—my eczema has quieted down, all except my hands, which still have an angry bright red rash.

I've cut out the usual food suspects, and am now concentrating on building up health through the usual food supplements: good fish oils and pro-biotics.

And herbal teas, which is my favourite way to take medicine.

Right now I am enjoying the weeds from the garden, especially melissa, or lemon balm, the "gladdening herb", which even smells happy, to me.

Lemon balm, melissa officinalis

German camomile, matricaria chamomilla

bee balm, monarda didyma. Credit

Other favourites: monarda (bee balm), and chocolate mint. Sweet, happy, calming, rejuvenating herbs.

A full pot of these, along with the good, green, nasty medicinal herbs, like dandelion, nettle, dock, and plantain, is always on the simmer.

These I forage from a clean meadow near a bike trail which, last year, was just a track of rubble made a by bulldozer. This year, it is full of dock and dandelion and red clover, the biggest I've ever seen. These are the weeds that heal the earth. They bring up minerals from below the disturbed, rocky surface and restore topsoil so that lusher plants can grow. It never fails to fill me with awe....the sheer elegance of God's eco-system

Little by little I'm seeing improvement in my own body. As organs and systems cleanse and renew themselves, my skin is clearing up. I have so much to be thankful for.

Anyway, friends, my door is always open. Do stop by, any time, for a cup of weeds! It'll do you good! It might even taste OK.

Dominion Day

2011-07-01T23:43:00.001-04:00

Happy Dominion Day! "He shall have dominion from sea to sea..."

Isn't that wonderful? A Mari Usque ad Mare.

The fathers of confederation named their business enterprise the Dominion of Canada, after the Lord Almighty in the psalm. I wonder—did they jinx us by dedicating this infant country to God and his justice? What does it mean for the future generations that proceeded to bugger it up? So literally?

Will and I are reading the Church and the Land by the distributist thinker, apologist, and popular saint, Fr. Vincent McNabb.

It is enough to restore your faith in everything that was right about our country in its foundation, and will be right again, one day.

But as my sister pointed out, it does make you want to run out and buy a farm. And raise thirteen children. So beware.

A Little Crafty

2011-06-28T23:46:00.003-04:00

We've been a little crafty, around here, as it's been such a wet, stormy (and very beautiful!) June.

A hat for the new baby. The wool is actually a delicious mossy, licheny green. Perfect for a September baby.

We're taking suggestions for boys' names. Girl's names are covered for the next dozen or so daughters. But if we have another boy, Will and I will have to go on silent retreat, to secluded monasteries, on a remote mountain (mmmmm, that doesn't sound too bad!) to pray for a divine message.

We can't even agree on a common genre. He likes names that are difficult to spell and pronounce and have a romantic history in Gaelic or Norse mythology.

I like names you could give a dog: Charlie, Hank, or Sam.

You see our dilemma? All suggestions are welcome.

So far, friends and family have helped us out with: Oisin (pronounced "O-sheen") Kieren, Wolfric, Lavrans (from Kristin Lavransdatter—tempting!) Grimbjorn (less tempting) Emmet

The boys like Henry, Thomas, and Picklehead (or Poopface, take your pick)

A Roman ship for Hugh. (Cut from a playmobile box....) Senatus Populus Que Romanum!

Unrelated, check out the lovely outdoor crafting by this beautiful blogging family. I can't read a word of Finnish (can you?) but scroll down to see hobby horses and a totally rad tent.

Sorry about my ridiculous, over-sized photos. There's nothing between large (too small) and extra-large (too big). I'll figure it out one of these days.

Places that Heal

2011-06-21T22:10:00.003-04:00

My mother's kitchen—

plants are sprouting

kefir is brewing

bread is rising

tea is steeping

Mum sits down with a cup of tea. We talk and talk. She is so endlessly wise, so loving, so effortlessly creative.

Outside, the boys help grandpa tend his little woodland, clearing deadwood, building bonfires, pruning wild apple trees.

watching grandpa roto-tilling...

...turning the wilderness into a garden...

June

2011-06-16T14:45:00.002-04:00

I'm sorry I've been such a blog-pooper. Still no camera.

Besides, it's June. The weather is sunny, windy, and balmy, and we are taking every spare moment to garden (Will) and sit in the sand at Little Lake (me).

Well, not sit, really. The boys play, fight, dig, splash, climb, whine, and play some more. I chase Matthias around and around, preventing sudden death at the playground. We drink super awesome fizzy homemade lime-ade made from water kefir. We eat, we splash, we dig. We chase Matthias. Good days.

The home-schooling muse descended this week, too, so when the weather gets too hot we repair for home, and central air, to work on alphabets and homemade books and such.

the cool of the day

Matthias is enjoying a season of nudity, as he learns to use the potty. He's our quickest learner yet. I take credit for a) producing this genius baby b) my hard work and diligence at keeping his pants off, and proactively plunking him on the potty every 15 minutes or so c) bribery. But I also have to credit the wonderful Baby Bjorn potty, and the peer-pressure from his big brothers who get a potty treat too.

still-life with water kefir (foreground)—more on water-kefir to come. I don't believe any of the health claims, but it sure is fun to make. And drink.

Will bikes down to his plot at the community gardens every morning to tinker, or whatever gardeners do. Foszka goes with him, and they are such a hot couple, I can hardly stand to be left behind. Except that it's 5 am, and I'd rather be sleeping. After supper he takes the boys, too. They're becoming good little gardeners, he tells me.

Because We're So Proud

2011-06-11T23:53:00.000-04:00

...of this wonderful man and his medal! Will graduated this June, having been awarded the Symons medal for top marks.

Congratulations, love.

Friday Stillness

2011-06-10T11:03:00.002-04:00

Speaking of "Scratch"

2011-06-07T19:41:00.001-04:00

I've been away from home, and blog, trying to heal up, as I'm covered in eczema from head to toe, not excluding my ears! This is supposedly the "healing crisis" and will end, one of these days, in radiant health. Meanwhile, it's a bit of a bummer.

I took the boys to the most "healing" place I know: my mother's kitchen, where we've been drinking herb teas from last summer's garden, gulping down the probiotic drinks, and slaking our thirst from the deep well water.

Mum's also been working her Montessori magic on the boys. They're in heaven at grandma and grandpa's, between the wood pile, the garden, where they got to open bags of manure "with real knives!" the art cupboard, and the thirty year old lego. And the occasional ice-cream cone.

Mum let me sleep and refused to let me wipe a dish. She even changed Matthias' diapers—twenty a day at least.

Pure bliss, plus a few mosquitos. (Actually, clouds of mosquitos, but I stayed indoors beside an open window while everyone else worked! Quite shocking, really).

I left my camera behind, which is why it's been quiet, in this space.

(These are last year's pictures)

Back home now, I've been seeking out places that heal (beaches, naturally) where we can sit and absorb sun and dig and shovel and splash to our heart's content.

So begins the summer rhythm: beach in the morning, home for lunch and the all-important siesta, a little work, a little supper, back to the beach, or the ecology gardens, or whatever, for the evening. Home again for baths and Narnia. (and grown-up time!) So peaceful.

Love to all!

From Scratch

2011-05-19T20:46:00.000-04:00

Our family does use "the blue box," but only because we believe in the moral value of re-purposing garbage. Because I feel there's something good for us in going through the process of washing and sorting our garbage. I don't believe it's a solution to the real problem.

To me, the only real solution is to stop consuming. Hopefully, if enough people stop buying plastic packaging, the industries will stop manufacturing it and creating this throwaway society. And this toxic buildup of plastic that's going to be real ugly for our future children.

As you can see, I've been giving it some thought. Last month our city celebrated Earth Day, which created a lot of hype—and positive action—here. A wonderful sign. I started reading about "one small change" —another popular and practical, if small, movement. And there are hopeful signs everywhere of a growing, grassroots community committed to sustainable agricultural and environmentally-friendly industry. This is tremendously exciting.

My big beef is the grocery store. (Yeah, yeah, har, har. Actually, I get my big beef from a farmer south of town). —The grocery store must be one of the worst offenders, with its continuous turnover of plastic packaging, and the ratio of packaging to product is enormous—just think how much plastic is required to cover a handful of crackers. Then the box that covers the plastic that covers the handful of crackers!

In view of that, I've been trying to implement a few small changes of my own, with surprising results.

mayonnaise

It's a humble beginning, but mayo is one item I'll never have to buy again!

The males in my house adore mayonnaise. If you knew the turnover rate of plastic mayonnaise containers around here, you'd be worried about the environment too!

It was making me sick every time I bought it—first, the ingredients. I would walk up to a jar of mayonnaise on the grocery shelf, determined not to read the label, but something would just make me. soybean oil, dehydrated egg, sugar, blech! I would quickly put it back. Then Will, with the desperation of an addict, would buy a jar later in the week. With worse ingredients. Secondly, all those ingredients are sitting in warm plastic, absorbing it. Nice.

So to soothe my ruffled conscience I began making my own; and to my surprise, everyone prefers it! And no wonder, with all its fresh, real-food ingredients. Here's the recipe, for you to try:

mayonnaise

blend 1 minute in blender on highest speed:

2 egg yolks

1 whole egg

1 Tblspn Dijon mustard

salt/pepper

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

without turning off the blender, slowly drizzle:

2 cups of grapeseed or light olive oil

As you can see, it's very wholesome, though rich, so a little goes a long way. There are no sugars to lure you into spreading it too thick. The flavour is beautiful; I've started tossing in a garlic clove, just to get that garlicky goodness into my picky little eaters.

See those peaks? See how stiff and creamy? It's real mayo, man!

And that was the start of my pledge *not to buy any condiments from now on. (*except soysauce, oils, sriracha, lemon juice, and that gourmet something-or-other, if they come in a glass bottle. I don't mind tossing glass into the landfill to break down into sand. But I'm done with plastic.)

And this is only the start. I'm looking for ways to start making everything from scratch—moving beyond soup and bread to those little luxuries we thought we couldn't do without.

I'd love to hear what you all are doing! Just don't tell me that you gave up shampoo. (You did! I knew it! Damn. I've been reading the lovely Herbwife's ideas and tips—she makes it sound so easy.)

For the Love of Etsy

2011-05-17T20:37:00.003-04:00

ANGELA, THIS ONE'S FOR YOU!

I have a lot of news for the family and new, fascinating thoughts to share. But who reads blogs just for family news and fascinating thoughts?

I can't blog without pictures, and I can't take pictures until it stops raining, as my fancy flash apparatus (the sun) is behind the clouds.

So to my readers in Venezuela and Sweden, be assured that there will be lots of pictures in the near future, and not just of quilts.

In the meantime, here's a link to my Etsy Favourites. In case any of my rich relatives want to buy me presents. Just kidding. I don't have any rich relatives.

—This is pure admiration for good design, combined with a little wantiness. Today I felt like sharing the inspiration that comes my way every time I rummage around this fantastic website. (Angela, you have to get a pottery studio!) And when I become a rich relative, I will be sure to buy presents—lots of them—for all of you.

Gah! It's enough to drive a grown man batty, as Dad used to say. The amount of ART in this world, I tell you.

Here, we continue to make, play, do, scritch-scratch in the garden, wash a lot of dishes, go on little bike excursions in the rain, and lie on the couch reading to my little squirrels, gestating this fourth little squirrel, and waiting for that wonderful second trimester energy to appear.

Weekend

2011-05-15T15:11:00.000-04:00

Little Kindnesses

2011-05-14T06:36:00.001-04:00

I like to keep the pencils in the house sharpened and well-stocked—it's one of the little kindnesses I do for the family. No price can be put on a timely pencil. And no curse like a bad pencil, when you're trying to jot an urgent phone number. Another little kindness is to throw out the bad pencil—the kind with leads that break when you sharpen them—immediately. Likewise pens that don't work.

Another kindness is to throw out small toys that end up under the kitchen table, such as cars, marbles, and crayons, though this one might be construed as selfish. I generally do it while everyone is sleeping. I've also been known to donate books that I thought were superfluous, but I quickly learned that this was a mistake.

These days, everything I use daily on a daily basis, from kitchen tools to art supplies to fabric to household tools, is jumbled into ikea baskets. Will is constantly rummaging through them, saying, "Where the heck is the tape?" (bandaids/soap/garlic press/address book, etc) and ignoring my highly intuitive system of organization.

I don't know why. It's so easy—all you have to do is remember which basket you put it in!

But obviously I need to start thinking like a man. I need labels. And clear tupperware boxes. Screw the aesthetics, I need an organized home, where people can find what they're looking for.

Here's my humble start: the cloth diaper pail. If your nose didn't tell you first, the label on top warns the unsuspecting passerby that here there be soiled diapers. Don't try to use this pot for any other purpose.

What are some of your little kindnesses?

Friday stillness

2011-05-13T14:55:00.003-04:00

That's Hugh, with his head missing. And if you'd seen his face, at the prospect of having his picture taken, you'd know why. But I couldn't let his awesome three-d art go un-archived. Hugh doesn't willingly draw with crayons, but he is a great constructor.

Some Tips

2011-05-11T10:05:00.000-04:00

my downstairs on a project day—I know there are ways of cleaning up as you go, but that really interferes with progress, I find.

I've received some queries, mostly from friends living far away who haven't visited us since we had kids, about how "I manage to do it all." Ah, isn't that the question? How do we mothers manage to raise our children, run businesses, cook, clean, drive our kids around, homeschool, and churn out fantastic creative projects, all at the same time? I thought I'd post my answer here, in case you were wondering the same thing.

***

Here's how I manage to "do it all." By way of example, I'll talk about the weeks during which I sewed the log cabin quilt. During that time:

I did not clean my bathroom. Not even once. And if you know what kind of things go on in our bathroom, you'd be deeply, deeply shocked.
I burnt approximately 8 meals
The fridge developed a peculiar odour, which we called "essence de fridge"
The children refused to drink milk, because it tasted like essence de fridge
The baby learned to say "shit"
"homeschooling" devolved into listening to A.A. Milne and Narnia on CD, hour after hour
Willie learned to select youtube videos on my laptop
We ate popcorn for lunch.
Baby learned to open the un-openable pantry cupboards, and empty them.
I embraced a holistic approach to education, hoping that the virtues of perseverance, industriousness, thrift, and problem-solving, which they saw their mother practicing by the hour, would sink in. Inspire them. Make them forget about those irritating habits, such as cleanliness, organization, and prioritization, which so often interfere with a really worthwhile project.

You see? You could do it, too! It's so easy, once you know how.
.

That said, I don't want to push my luck. After putting up with my quilt and fabric all over the living room for 4 weeks, not to mention the above-mentioned neglect of housework, Will has requested a little bit of household peace. So this week I'm back to routine again. That is, I'm trying to confine my sewing to those little golden moments when everyone else is constructively occupied—or sleeping. And I'm trying to brush up on those irritating habits like organization and prioritization. I might even break out some bleach.

Making a Simple Chair Cover (revised, to make sense)

2011-05-08T15:52:00.002-04:00

Here's a quick how-to. (Auntie Marie, stop reading now!)

As you can see, I sew like a monkey—or at least, like australopithecus. Which is why I'm in a position to give hope to all novice sewers.

I encourage you, reader, to make a chair cover or two just for the fun of it. It's so easy. So satisfying. So much better than a white chair with banana smeared all over it.

First, I started with a large quilt square, in the log cabin pattern, and four ties (I made the ties out of folded fabric). My quilt square was just a bit longer and wider than the seat of the chair.

The fabric is a mixture of new and old; strips of courderoy pants, muslin scarves, linen shirts, cotton dresses, and wool skirts. I did not measure, as measuring is overrated anyway. But you see how forgiving the log cabin pattern is?

Here's the back, so you can see how truly primitive it is.

To make the log cabin pattern, I started with the traditional red square (which, I'm told, is the "hearth" in the middle of the log cabin) then laid the strips round and round the square, sewing as I went.

I ironed both the quilt and the quilt back, which was a piece of canvas hacked down to size....

...all around the edge, like this:

and placed wrong sides together:

Then I placed the ties in the corners

and pinned them in place.

Then I top-sewed around the whole edge, et voila!

It looks all cute and mod, especially with a baby on it. And if any more dogs decide to recover from pup-birth on my chair, I can just toss it in the washing machine.

Not everything we make is an heirloom, and some pieces are meant to accumulate patches, get worn and used, and washed, and covered in banana, and washed again.

On a completely unrelated note, we have a pet baby squirrel. It's black and very skinny. Unfortunately I have no pictures until it can be persuaded to come out of its little nest of leaves in the box. It's a rescue squirrel. It fell off our porch roof and we saved it from Foszka, which completely spoiled her Mother's Day.

More Making

2011-05-07T07:03:00.000-04:00

I made a little "log cabin" chair cover, to hide the dog after-birth...

...and banana and whatnot that found its way to the white chair. The "chair cover" is just a big square with ties at the four corners.

***

I was so inspired by the sheer speed of the log cabin pattern, I decided, then and there, to make an enormous log cabin quilt:

Here it is at about the half-way point, when I discovered that I actually don't like it.

But Hugh does!

To be finished, this quilt requires about three more long BBC period dramas, and about six-hundred more mugs of ~~coffee~~. Oh heavens! Did I write that? I mean herbal tea!

This is the perfect spring for making a quilt—we haven't seen the sunshine in almost two weeks. And it's cold. Will and I have stubbornly and superstitiously turned off the heat, so another quilt is definitely in order.

Friday—Matthias and Foszka—sharing

2011-05-06T09:22:00.007-04:00

Waldorf Doll

2011-05-03T19:00:00.048-04:00

For Easter (for Christmas, originally, but you know how it goes...) I made Matthias his own baby.

Baby has become a fixture in the house, not only for his usefulness as a projectile missile, but because Matthias is so attached to him. There is nothing sweeter in the world than a baby babying another baby.

And I must admit, it's true what they say: the softness, the featureless-ness, the plump, natural feel of the Waldorf doll, with all its warm sheep's wool, gives it a special "realness." It's kind of ironic. But then again, real babies are soft, plump, and featureless, too.

The sweater was my first Elizabeth Zimmerman seamless yoke sweater (as described in Knitting Without Tears). All you knitters will know what I'm talking about.——Non-knitters, skip to end.——It was basically three little tubes (body and two arms) joined in one big round and then decreased up to the neck. No fuss, no muss. Well, maybe a little swearing at the DPN's. For dimensions, I just winged it. The arms were 12 stitches around, I think. I'm just going to have to make big ones for everybody, now that I know how easy it is!

The little green 'fro is my favourite part. It's just french knots done with chunky yarn from the backs of highly uncooperative Icelandic sheep. (I can tell they were uncooperative by the feel of the yarn. It won't listen, I tell you.) But it's good and rugged and durable and gives a sweet, hobbit-y look to this otherwise feature-less baby.

Baby and his big brother, Bilbo, made by my talented mother

playing music for baby

my sweet, sweet boy in a nurturing mood

P.S. Baby just got a real name: Thomas. Thomas the Waldorf Doll. Doubling as a hockey puck, at the moment.

Making

2011-04-29T17:29:00.018-04:00

So. What else have we been up to?

Here are some of my favourite make-y projects from the past year.

woolcraft

I made a whole raft of these hats for Christmas presents. They give one's head a unique acorn shape, which is quite charming, in my opinion; the boys weren't that impressed.

woodcraft

Sanded my sewing desk and gave it some hardware love.

paper craft

We made about a million of these between Advent and March, and hung them from every possible outcropping.

egg craft

Eggs were dyed with red cabbage and yellow onion skins, which is as creative as we got this Easter. Someday we will take up the family torch and do pysanky, but there's only so much beeswax, fire, and permanent dye I wish to give my under-fives. Here's the onion peeling party:

***

--which brings me to pants. Below are Matthias' Sunday trousers (oops—getting a bit small. I swear, they fit him last week!) in the skinny-pants fashion. Although nothing looks that skinny over a cloth diaper.

Wrapping a stick

Pants for small people are so easy to make. Anyone with a sewing machine can whip 'em up in about half an hour, using some folded fabric, an elastic, and a pair of old pants for the pattern. I'll post a tutorial soon.

***

Linen beach trousers, for baby Hazel June. And if you think I'm mentioning them just because I like to say her name, Hazel June, you're absolutely right.

They're made of old linen dishtowels and napkins. Sported here by handsome Matthias, who will hopefully come to forgive me for all this cross-dressing. (They're a couple sizes too small for him, but—you see how a big baby is crammed into small pants? Pure quality.)

***

And best of all: Will crafted a totally awesome bunk bed out of junk he'd been hoarding in the garage.

You can't tell in this picture, but it's as sturdy as a rock. It doubles as a jungle gym, castle, ship, cliff face, theatre, and many other bizarre uses.

I believe that's a fireman scaling a burning house, in an unnaturally tidy room. Who made those beds? Would that person like to return and live with us?