Meow

I got to see Wax Mannequin live on the weekend and it was awesome.

Family

The girls have been obsessed with the book 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott lately. They have a dramatized version on CD which they listen to repeatedly and Astrid can often be heard reading segments of it to Muirgen from the copy they received from my mom last Christmas. They often pretend to be Meg, Jo, Beth or Amy and act out scenes from the story or ones they invent themselves, imagining how their character would respond to this or that situation.

They have also really enjoyed 'Anne of Green Gables' by L.M. Montgomery and 'The Secret Garden' by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

I enjoy these old classics, too, and it thrills me that the girls like them.

As children, I know they love them because the characters are so vividly portrayed, their lives are so warmly described, there is a sense of magic in ordinary, daily life. As an adult, and a mother, what I love most about these books, written long ago, is that they are all about family.

Books for kids these days revolve around friends. If parents are mentioned, it's only in the capacity of kill-joys or people to keep secrets from. Friends are everything. Even siblings are generally written about as nuisances, pests, etc. The family is only something set in the way of all of one's deepest desires.

But the old children's classics value family. Even in books like Green Gables or Secret Garden, where the main characters are orphans, the story is all about them re-creating the experience of family. A sense of respect and reverence for family is clearly put forth.

I like my children's minds to be filled with the idea that family is a haven, a safe refuge, a source of comfort, joy, familiarity. A place to be truly known and cared for. A place where needs are met and bonds are strong. So much it seems like the prevailing messages to children are just the opposite: family is a hassle, something that ties you down and prevents you from doing what you want to do. Something boring and irrelevant. Something to be outsmarted and gotten away from as much and as soon as possible.

I know I sound old here, but so be it. I want my children to value family. I want to provide an experience of family that is worthy of them valuing it and makes it easy for them to do so. I want them to have good friends outside of our family, but not to be swept away by peer culture.

I wish that I had had a deeper respect and appreciation for my own family growing up. I wish I'd let myself enjoy the things we did together instead of sulking about wishing I was with my friends. I feel like I missed out on some of the joy I could have had because I did not fully engage with my family or our activities on things like camping trips, Sunday afternoon nature hikes, weeks at the cottage, or even family meal times. My parents took the time to provide these experiences for us, and I did not realize what a gift it was. This was mainly when I was older - a teenager, but I don't want my children to have this regret someday. I hope that the tales told by people like Louisa May Alcott plant in their minds the notion that family is something to value. That it's something to hold onto and cherish.

So Tired

I have been so incredibly tired for the last couple weeks that I knew I had to be either sick or pregnant.

I'm not pregnant.

I guess that run-in I had with the flu has just really been taking its toll. I usually recover faster than this. IT SUCKS!

I Love My Neighbourhood

How many other neighbourhoods are there that celebrate Halloween with live music at random locations and a parade in the park? There was a band playing in the backyard next door, one at the Store Famous, one at Frank's Fish and Chips. Everyone traipsed together from one show to the next and ended up in the park where the Gertrudes played while everyone danced and paraded about in their costumes.



Thanks to Bren for the pictures! I have more on my own camera, but when I'll get around to uploading them is something of a mystery.

I Could Just Scream

"Do you not know that you are each an Eve? The sentence of God on this sex of yours lives in this age: the guilt must of necessity live too. You are the devil's gateway; you are the unsealer of that forbidden tree; you are the first deserter of the divine law; you are she who persuaded him whom the devil was not valiant enough to attack. You so carelessly destroyed man, God's image. On account of your desert, even the Son of God had to die."

-Tertullian

"What is the difference weather it is in a wife or a mother, it is still Eve the temptress that we must beware of in any woman... if it was good company and conversation that Adam needed, it would have been much better arranged to have two men together as friends, not a man and a woman."

-St. Augustine

AAAARRRRGGHHHH!

Sometimes people call me "Rage". Sometimes it is fitting.

Truck Parts

August is obsessed with trucks, construction vehicles and pretty much anything with wheels. This is strange, given that he is the product of Jason and I. He did not inherit or learn this from us, that's for sure!

Pretty much anything at all can be a truck in August's world. The other day he spent nearly half an hour cleaning his truck - a small rocking chair. He used nothing but his hands and his imagination. I don't think he's ever seen someone clean a vehicle in his life (certainly not in this household!)

He knows the names of parts of vehicles and machines that I did not know myself until half a year ago or so. Names like piston and outrigger. He can show you where they are, too. And what they do. At a construction sight not long ago, he informed Jason that the strange machine Jason had never seen before was a tamper and explained to him what it is used for.

Tonight, while helping him in the bathroom, August told Jason that his penis was his exhaust pipe.

What a kid!

Presto! Pesto!

I got the basil from the garden made into pesto just in the nick of time. The ice cube trays are neatly stacked in the freezer waiting for me to pop their little green blocks into ziplock bags. Yummy winter pasta - bring it on!

Here's my all-time favourite pesto recipe which has the added bonus of being both dairy and nut free (hard to find in a pesto recipe). If you want a vegan pesto, substitute salt for the fish sauce:

-3 cups fresh basil leaves
-3 cups fresh mint leaves
-3 cups fresh cilantro leaves
(measurements for herbs are guidelines only. Definitely try to include some of each herb, but if you have more or less of one or two, it'll still be tasty.)
-5 cloves garlic
-juice of one lime
-1-2 Tbsp sesame oil
-2 Tbsp sugar
-2 tsp fish sauce (or to taste)
-1 chopped pepper (any spicy pepper will do. leave it out if you don't like spicy).

I generally just dump ingredients in the blender without measuring. Pesto is very forgiving on the flavour, as long as you can get a good consistency. Blend them up until you have a nice, thick, green paste.

Pictures of You

Sometimes someone captures me on film (or however you'd say it when it's digital) and when I see the picture I'm surprised to find that, on the outside at least, I am just who I want to be. This shot, taken of August and me in Sackville, Nova Scotia by Lucas Huang this summer is one of those.
One time our housemate documented our days as a homeschooling family as part of her alternative practicum at school. When she showed me the photos she'd taken, I was blown away by how lovely our life looked.

I often feel there is a huge discrepency between how I feel about myself/my life and how I appear to others. I don't know why this is or what to do about it. I don't even know if it's good or bad.

People often say things about me that don't jive with how I experience my life: I am so calm, so gentle, such a good mom, accomplish so much, etc. etc. I don't always feel it.

When we had to tell everyone at Living Room what sort of hat we'd be, I said I would be a brown, hand-knit toque. Brown because I love earth. Hand-knit because I feel like I am a self-made woman. I've worked hard to figure out who I am, what my identity is, what I value and how to live accordingly. I've put a lot of thought into it. I believe that I don't have to be shaped by forces I can't control, but that I can take control of who I am, of how I let things shape me.

To all appearances, I think I've done a good job. If the person in those pictures wasn't me, I'd wish it was.
But inwardly, I often feel like my life falls far short of what I want it to be.

Well, enough of the sleep deprived rambles. Time for bed!