Tangled Roots

I'm not a morning person

2012-01-31T09:33:00.005-05:00

When you wake up to piles of unwashed laundry, and a kid screaming because her brother woke her up, and a fight with your husband, and clothes that don't look right on your body...

The sweetness of that first sip of tea while your son sings Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star is all the more sweet. Sweet enough to bring tears to your eyes. And so you take a deep breath and remind yourself that you have all you need to make this a good day, if not for yourself, then at least for those around you.

Thank you God for Three Wishes tea and for little voices in song.

God's Family

2012-01-29T23:16:00.004-05:00

Who knew a sermon on a genealogy could nearly move me to tears?

Brenda spoke on Matthew 1 this morning and explained how this particular genealogy of Jesus had been written in such a way as to make the point that ANYONE can be part of God's family. The people included in the list in Matthew 1 were nobility, ordinary folk not mentioned anywhere else in the bible, and all sorts of unsavoury, scandalous characters. They included women, which was completely unheard of in those days, and gentiles, which is not something a Jew would have wanted in their family line at that time in history because it would have indicated that they were not a "pure" Jew.

We then anonymously wrote down what sorts of traits WE bring to God's family and Brenda read a bunch of the responses. This is what I found so incredibly moving. People were brutally honest about what sorts of things they bring. The good, the bad and everything in between was brought before this room full of people who all are part of this one, big family. And God accepts each and every one of us. No matter what we've done in the past, no matter what we struggle with now, weather we bring good, helpful things, or we mainly take from others, weather our points of view readily conform to expectations or not - we are all welcome in God's family.

Do you realize what this means for us? It is so huge! It means not only that we are welcome, but also that we must welcome others - no matter what. If we truly consider ourselves to be children of God, then we must open our arms to anyone who wants to find a place, who needs connection, who desires to follow the path of love. No matter who they are. No matter what they've done. No matter what their opinions or how they act or what they struggle with. We must extend unconditional welcoming.

I recently read a blog post about "church discipline" which I found absolutely heartbreaking. The thing that really bothered me is that this church was basing their behaviour on Matthew 18:15-17 in which the church was told to treat someone who continues to sin after being confronted about it as they would a Gentile or a tax collector. I'd like to point out that these are the very people with whom Jesus associated. He welcomed them, ate with them, forgave them and healed them. He most certainly did not write them off or shun them or make them submit to ridiculous contracts in order to prove they were worthy of his acceptance and love.

I pray that I would be able to open my home, my hands, my heart to all who seek entry, especially to those who are the most difficult to extend such a welcome to. May love be my guide.

Rhythm of Children

2012-01-20T21:57:00.003-05:00

I've been reading this blog in which a family is trying a month-long experiment in basically letting their kids do whatever they want in order to try to cut down the amount of nagging and not listening that's been going on. I've been finding it very fascinating. It's got me thinking a bit about how much freedom we allow in our family.

I've read 'Summerhill' and other books about free schools and I've read parenting books that advocate a very non-coercive, non-punitive, "permissive" parenting style, books about how children will self-regulate and choose what is best for them if given the freedom to do so. And I've always been drawn to this sort of thing. I really like the idea that if we set a good example, and show our children lots of love, treating them in ways that earn their respect, they will naturally want to do the right thing. They will co-operate with us because they love and respect us. This feels so warm and cozy and nice. And I don't like the idea that my children only follow my wishes because they fear what will happen if they don't.

But I do believe in having some rules and structures in place in our family. The free school model would not work for me at home. I fear I would end up turning into the maid - no thanks! There are certain things my kids have to do that they don't have a choice about. And other things that they'd like to do that are not an option (at least not as often as they might like). And I think that my children achieve a healthier balance in what they eat, in how they spend their time and in their sleep schedule, among other things, when there is a consistent flow to our days (that's been put in place and enforced by me) and with some guidance.

Someone once asked me what style of discipline we use with our kids. I really had to think about it. We've never spanked or used time-outs. We don't usually take away privileges. What I came up with is that we use conversation as our main form of discipline. Discipline means to teach, after all, and talking about things is a good way to teach them, I find. We talk a lot about how we act and how our actions affect others. We talk about how we'd like to function together as a family. We analyze situations that didn't go so well to see what could be done differently next time. We talk about why we have the rules and routines that we do.

When I was a kid, if I could understand the reason that my parents had for not letting me do this, or "making" me do that, I was far happier to comply with their wishes. If I didn't see the purpose of the rules, I usually didn't follow them. This meant we had to talk about things. I generally didn't get their reasoning unless they explained it. But when they took the time to do so, and it made sense to me, I went along.

I suppose that what it comes down to for me is to make sure that I am only enforcing the things that truly need to be enforced and not making rules for the sake of having rules or because "that's how everyone else does it". I do believe that setting a good example, showing lots of love and treating our kids in ways that deserve their respect are of utmost importance and will ease the way - for the times we need to "lay down the law" and for our relationships in general.

34

2012-01-11T21:43:00.005-05:00

Yesterday was my 34th birthday.
I'm not afraid of getting older. I don't mind it. But I ended up in tears at the restaurant table during my birthday date with Jason.

The thing is, I no longer feel like I have forever. And there's so much I want to do.

I have often talked about the weight of all I want to do, but won't have time for. I dwell on lists of knitting projects and home renovations, cool science experiments for the kids and places to go, things to see. I think of the poems I'd like to write, the parties I'd like to host, the clothing I'd like to sew. I can deal with this sort of weight. Not getting to do these things is tolerable, despite the fact that I obsess about them constantly.

But the reality which I try not to think about, the reality which all my unrealistic to-do lists are designed to distract me from, is that there is a much heavier weight:

the weight of a whole other life.

And when I think about it, it overwhelms me. I love the life I live. It is exactly what I chose and hoped for. I don't regret the path I've taken at all. But there's this other path, and there's no way I could have even known about it until I was well on my way down this one. I wish I had two lives to live. I don't think I can keep doing what I'm doing AND take the other path in one lifetime - not in the way I'd want to anyway: I don't want to divide myself between two worlds; I want to be fully present in one. Somehow, on my birthday date, Jason lifted the lid in my brain that I normally keep tightly closed on this and the tears came. How can there be two things that I want so badly, so equally and not be able to have them both? I find it intolerable to think that I may not have time to walk this other path, live this other life.

Jason is convinced that I can, but I keep getting older and time keeps moving on, quicker and quicker and quicker. I can't even begin to see the blurriest outline of how things would look if I tried to cram two lives into one.

Learning at the Erb Garden

2012-01-02T19:10:00.006-05:00

Since it's the beginning of the new year, it feels like a good time to take stock of what things look like education-wise at our house. As most of you know, my kids don't learn in school. I use the term "home-schooling" because people have at least some sort of idea what I'm talking about. But really, so much of what we do is not at home and most of it does not look much like "school" at all. I prefer to call it "home-based learning" because it seems a better description of what we do. We spend our time learning in all sorts of ways and in all sorts of places, but home is our learning base, as opposed to school.

I'm always curious about how other home learners structure their time and, in case some of you are also curious about this, I'm going to share how we do it. Also, I find it helpful to break things down into what we do every day, every week, every month and to see it all laid out. Sometimes I wonder if the kids are getting everything they need, but when I write it all down, my worries are always assuaged.

The things we do every day are:
-Math (all three kids use the JUMP math curriculum and they know how many pages they need to do per day to complete their grade level by the end of May).
-Language Arts (Astrid uses Learning Language Arts Through Literature. Muirgen and August follow the language arts component of the Oak Meadow curriculum for their grade levels. I make sure that Muirgen reads aloud to me regularly as well. With Astrid, I have to make sure that she sometimes does things other than read!)
-Scripture study and memorization
-Piano practise
-Reading aloud (I read aloud a novel of my own choosing to the kids.)

The things we do once a week are:
-Geography (we use A Child's Geography by Ann Voskamp)
-History (Muirgen uses Oak Meadow and Astrid is mainly using the Dear Canada books. We also try to regularly listen to Story of the World on CD for world history).
-Science (all three use Oak Meadow for science)
-Piano lessons
-Swimming lessons
-Awana
-I'd like to start incorporating a weekly artsy/craftsy project as well, but we'll see. They do a lot of this on their own anyway.

Bi-weekly:
-Junior Field Naturalists meetings (natural science) and occasional field trips with JFN as well

Monthly:
-Local history program at the Brockville museum.

They also do occasional pottery classes and a stint of science workshops at Queen's in the Spring. There are programs now and then at various museums around town and we visit the Toronto Science Centre and the Museums of Nature and Civilizations in Ottawa every chance we get. We go to see at least one play in Stratford each year. In 2011 we saw a Shakespeare for the first time and it gave us the opportunity to delve into the play ahead of time so that we understood what was going on.

Other things we have cooking for the coming year are more music (Astrid wants to audition for the Cantabile Choir) and some rock hounding (we'd like to join the Kingston Lapidary and Mineral Club). Muirgen would like to volunteer at the humane society, but I'm having trouble figuring out how to make this work for a number of reasons. In summer, they'll spend a week at camp again, riding and learning about horses, fishing, doing archery and farm chores. There truly is never a shortage of things to do. By 3:00 most weekdays, they are playing with neighbourhood friends and I do like for them to have lots of time to do "nothing". They all help out with laundry, dishes, cleaning the bathrooms and sweeping the floors.

Such a full life! And those are only the things the kids are involved in! When you throw in my activities and Jason's, one might wonder when we have any down time at all. I do find it challenging to find the right balance. There have been years when we've ditched all curricula completely and purely followed our interests and there have been years where we've stuck really closely to one chosen curriculum (Oak Meadow, which is really lovely). Right now I feel that the girls, especially, need the structure of at least our daily things because I want them to have a good foundation in math and English. The rest is easy to fill in and most of it doesn't need to be learned at home. There are so many people with more knowledge and experience than me who are happy to share it.

I am often asked how long we plan to homeschool and I always say, we make that decision year by year. As long as it's going well, we'll keep doing it. And as different as every year has looked so far, I feel confident that we can make this work for as long as we want to, changing things up to meet our changing needs and desires. There are so many good resources out there that I don't have to worry about being "qualified" to teach this or that and as homeschooling gains popularity, it becomes easier and easier for homeschooled students to get into post-secondary institutions. Right now none of my kids have any desire at all to go to school, so we'll just keep taking it one year at a time, doing what feels right for each of us.

I am so thankful to live in a country where we have the right to do this and in a province that allows us so much freedom with it.

The Darjeeling Limited

2011-12-08T22:16:00.004-05:00

I have fallen in love with this movie, in which three brothers travel across India by train, for the following reasons:

1. The colour of it. Everything is bathed in a warm, yellow glow. And it's in India, so the colours are all so much more bright and plentiful than they are here. The aqua-marine walls, the intricate patterns decorating everything - it's glorious! Such a beautiful looking movie.

2. It moves along just like a train - nice and steady, not too fast, nothing too sudden or unexpected. Perhaps it's because I grew up without TV and movies for the most part, but my brain just can't handle fast-paced, action-packed movies. I get lost. I zone out. I can't follow them.

3. The symbolism of the luggage the brothers have acquired from their dead father and haul with them on their travels.

4. It makes me want to get on a train and travel across India with my siblings. It makes me feel a special warmth toward them. I love the portrayal of the relationship between the brothers in this movie.

5. There are all these great lines with double entendres, such as when Francis removes his bandages, peers into the mirror and says, "I guess I've still got some healing to do."

6. It shows, over and over, the immense beauty of incredibly crappy circumstances.

7. The sound track.

8. The understated humour.

9. The way I feel right after I watch it. The way all of life feels beautiful.

Oh, I could watch The Darjeeling Limited over and over and over. It's my number 1!

I Like My Fertility Cycle

2011-11-24T23:37:00.005-05:00

For one half of the month the world is a dark and evil place. I see and feel suffering all around me. I see the destruction of the earth and its inhabitants. I see the ways we hurt each other. We are lost and my soul grieves. I am a poor, wayfaring stranger and can't wait for this wandering to end, for I am not of this earth.

For the other half of the month the world holds so much beauty, I feel like I might explode with wonder. I feel connected to my friends and family for whom I feel boundless love. I feel connected even to people I don't know and everyone is so beautiful. Gratitude for the chance to exist here and experience this wild and wonderful life flows readily from my heart. I am at home on the earth. I know my place in creation.

I am thankful for the ability to see and feel and experience the beauty and light as well as the darkness of the world. I don't want to turn a blind eye to suffering or become complacent. I want to care and try to bring about change. But I couldn't do it, couldn't go on without glimpses of the glory of our earth, our selves, our God.

I am thankful that I am a woman who moves rhythmically and predictably through these two states, back and forth, month by month, cycle by cycle. My hormones connect me to that which moves me - to grief and despair, to joy and gratitude. They prevent me from having a lopsided view of the world; I can see from two different vantage points. They enable me to feel deeply, for which I give thanks because there is nothing worse than a state of bland, unfeeling, shallow existence.

What will become of me when this phase of my life winds down and my cycles stop? I have no idea. But I pray that I will always have a healthy balance in perspective which allows me to see the world in all its wildness and wonder and also in its sin-drenched gloom. For this earth is both things. We all are both things. There is no good or bad. There is only good and bad.

Remembering

2011-11-12T23:57:00.006-05:00

On November 11th when I was a kid, I stayed home from school. My parents felt the ceremonies and assemblies glorified war. My family is Mennonite, which means they are pacifists. My grandfather was a conscientious objector and had to labour in a work camp in northern Ontario for the duration of World War 2 since he refused to fight. My mom always wrote in my brother's birthday party invitations "Please no toys associated with war or violence" and then had to field phone calls from disgruntled mothers who didn't know what to buy for him. We were not allowed to watch violent shows or play violent video games (not too hard to enforce since we didn't have a TV).

My family was not fanatical about pacifism, nor was it something we really talked about much, but it's presence in our life was undeniable and it left its mark on me.

And that is why I have always felt discomfort on November 11. Not really knowing what to do with it, for most of my life, I've just tried to ignore it. I've never worn a poppy. I've never gone to a Remembrance Day ceremony. I've tried not to think about it too much because the horror of war feels like a weight too heavy to bear when I really contemplate it.

Last year, I decided that ignoring the day was not necessarily the best way to go and so on November 11, I looked up and read stories of people and nations who resisted Hitler non-violently. It was my own small act of observing the day in a way that I felt comfortable with. I found it to be very uplifting and inspiring.

So this year, I wanted to share my experience with my friends. A bunch of us gathered in my living room last night and listened to Martin Luther King on a crackly old record. We heard stories of a lady plumber who smuggled Jewish babies out of the ghettos in the bottom of her tool box and buried their names in a glass jar in her yard, and of entire nations who pulled together and managed to save nearly their whole Jewish population - without violence, and of Americans who travelled to Iraq at the height of the war to tell the people there that not all Americans view them as enemies and to try to offer them love, only to have Iraqis go far out of their way to help them when they were in desperate need. We remembered acts of bravery, of heroism, of love.

And we mourned. We mourned for the devastation of war, for the horror and loss of life, the destruction. We mourned because sometimes we feel helpless and frustrated and don't know what to do.

But we also hoped. We hoped for the day when all is redeemed. When swords will be beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks. When nation will not rise against nation nor train for war any longer.

And we were inspired. Inspired to try to love recklessly, to put others and their needs ahead of ourselves and our own safety, to value the sanctity of each and every life.

This is an observance of Remembrance Day that I can engage with. This is meaningful to me.
I don't want to undermine the sacrifice made by soldiers - it is very great indeed. But I find it important to remember the sacrifice of others as well. To honour ALL who stand up for what they believe in.
And I feel it's important to remember, on Remembrance Day and all days, that wars are not started to help people or save people or because the powers that be who make the decision to go into combat care about people. This is not to say that there are no soldiers who fight for these reasons (I know there are), but the actual decision to go to war is always about greed, power and/or money - EVEN in the case of World War 2, the "righteous" war. War is horrible and evil no matter how you slice it. I thank God for those (military and civilian alike) who shine His light into the dark depths of it. I thank God for those who care for and love people in the throes of its wretched destruction.

And I have to wonder (because I will always be a pacifist at heart).... what if we put as much energy and resources into training people in tactics and strategies of non-violent resistance as we do in training for violence and war? What would the world look like? Oh, idealistic heart of mine, what a day that would be!

I will leave you with some verses from Ephesians 6:

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Where Are You Now?

2011-10-24T17:55:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I wish I was a better musician so that I could write beautiful songs to express how I'm feeling. Thankfully, there are other people who do it for me.

Thank you, Sufjan!

I love you, stellar people!

2011-10-02T23:55:00.004-04:00

Last night as we were driving home from a wedding in Ottawa, I was reflecting on what amazing friends we have. They are really, truly stellar people. Dancing a slow dance with - was it 8? - lovely bodies and souls, wrapped up in their arms, I felt so encircled by the love of good people. The people there on that dance floor and also the people who enrich my life who weren't there last night, all contribute so much to my sense of well-being and satisfaction with life. I don't know if they even realize it, but God speaks to me and helps me and loves me through each one of them.

I feel that I have been very blessed all my life with great friends. Jason said he thinks that that is no accident. I agree, but in a totally different way than he meant. He said that I would go out of my way to find a community of people to become a part of, and perhaps it's true, but the fact is, I have never had to. I have never gone out of my way at all to find friends. And I am grateful for that, because initiating friendships is not a strength of mine.

I am also incredibly thankful that my parents recognized the importance of their children's friends when we were teenagers. They made sacrifices and were very intentional about helping my siblings and I to maintain our friendships with good people. Thank you, mom and dad! I know that your actions in this prevented all sorts of grief in my teen years.

To all my friends, past and present, thank you for the richness you have brought and continue to bring to my life. Thank you for being temples - places I can meet God. Life is not meant to be lived alone. I love having such wonderful people to journey with.

Astrid's 10th Birthday

2011-09-23T23:26:00.014-04:00

Your pants on the line
hang barely shorter than mine.
It seems so recent you were
a babe in my arms
turning me into a mother.
My first born
I hardly knew where I ended
and you began.
So tangled up in you I was.
I hardly knew where to fit into my life
after you came and displaced me.
I watch you grow now into a woman.
The space between us has become clear.
The gap has grown
with your tall, lanky frame
And slowly it fills
with so many beautiful things,
Things we share,
Things which bind us,
Things, now, of our choosing.
You may never know the ways you have shaped me
Beautiful daughter.

Muirgen's 8th Birthday

2011-09-23T22:40:00.010-04:00

Little soul,
Middle child
Carving your place.
You have been given eyes to see wonder
To see beauty and mystery
In the flight of a bird,
The darting of a squirrel,
The whorl in the centre of a flower,
A bee gathering pollen,
The secret deep in a seed.
Lover of all things small and vulnerable
Tender, tiny soul,
Guardian,
Your wonder guides you
Holding fast to what you know is true.
Sweet Muirgen,
Spring of fresh water,
Finding joy in what God gives us,
Giving of yourself
to those often overlooked.
May your amazement never end,
Your wonder never cease.
Sweet, little soul,
May you blossom and grow like
A lilly on the water.

Redemption

2011-08-03T00:26:00.001-04:00

Johnny Cash has been getting a lot of play at our house lately. The girls are pretty much obsessed with him these days.

This song makes me cry frequently:
The part where he imagines the man he killed coming to ride with him into eternity.

We can choose to forgive anything. We can set ourselves free. We can free others. We can hold out our hands and say, "Come. I forgive you." and lead each other into something beautiful and infinite.

Guilty as Charged?

2011-07-25T22:43:00.005-04:00

An anonymous comment left on my post about why one would want to give birth without pain medication stated that what I had written was preposterous, guilt-inducing and hurtful.

It brought to mind a panel discussion I sat in on recently. The panel included a labour and delivery nurse, a doula, a midwife and an obstetrician. They all agreed that there is a huge amount of fear about giving birth in pregnant women. They felt that this fear is at an all-time high. Many ideas were thrown out from the panel members and from people in the audience about why this might be the case.

One idea was that there are an abundance of horror stories told about birth both by the media and by women who have gone through it. We seem to hear far more of these stories than of positive ones. One woman speculated that this might be because it is harder to share a positive story. The reasons for this might be that it is less dramatic, it doesn't make for such a good story and, furthermore, who wants to be that mom? It's like being the one who says "MY baby slept through the night at 2 weeks." It smacks of bragging and looking down on others (weather that is the intent or not). She talked about the judgement that people feel when they hear a positive birth story if their own experience was not quite what they had hoped for, or if they had simply made different choices about how to give birth.

I have considered this before because I have been apologized to for all sorts of things by people who have made different choices than I have.

I've also been on the apologetic end. I have gone so far as to hide my daughter's soother around certain people that I felt would think negatively of me for giving her one rather than meeting all her sucking needs at the breast.

I've been thinking a lot about guilt. About why we feel it and about weather we can really be made to feel it by someone else.

I'm starting to think that if we feel guilt after watching someone else live out her values, or hearing her share about what she believes in, etc. then we are probably not 100% comfortable with the choices we have made/are making.

This was certainly the case with my daughter's soother. It has been the case for me on many occasions when I felt like I had failed to live up to someone else's standards.

Does this mean that if someone feels a soother can be damaging and sucking needs should be met at the breast, she should refrain from talking about it around me?

Does it mean, for instance, that someone who eats a vegan diet should never talk about the ways in which it has benefited her health around non-vegans for fear of making them feel guilty?

Or that women should not be educated about the benefits of breastmilk in case they feel badly for formula-feeding?

I don't believe so.

If I'm feeling guilty based on what someone else says or does, maybe I need to re-examine my choices and see if there's something I should change. If I'm comfortable with my choices and feel convinced of their rightness for me, I won't feel guilty, no matter how strongly someone else presents an opposing view. If I feel guilty for not meeting someone else's standards, upon closer introspection, I usually find that those standards are actually my own and I have not yet been able to meet them for myself. I can then get bogged down by guilt, I can work to accept where I am at, or I can let my feelings of guilt motivate me to make changes.

I think the key here is to be certain about our choices - in all areas of life. We should know why we are making the choices we are. We should research our choices. Inform ourselves! If we do, no one can make us feel guilty about the paths we take. We will be convinced of them being right for us and of why this is so. And maybe at some point, we'll come across new information or a really inspiring person and might decide to do things differently in the future, but the choice will be ours and it will not involve guilt. Because then we would be doing it for someone else, and not for ourselves and, chances are, we wouldn't feel completely comfortable with it.

When it comes to birth, I know it's a touchy subject. And I know that it's not something we can go back and change if we've already done it. And so... I don't think anyone should feel guilt about their past birth experiences. If your birth did not go as planned, if you are unhappy with it, I hope you can experience healing and move beyond guilt to a place of acceptance. And if you are happy with your choice to have an epidural or whatever the case may be, and feel 100% comfortable with that decision and would do it again in a heart beat - you won't feel guilty about that no matter how much someone like me might try to change your mind about doing it differently in the future.

If anything I have posted here has made you feel hurt or guilty about something that happened in the past, that you cannot go back and change and quite possibly had no control over in the first place, I am sorry. And it is my prayer that you find healing and can offer forgiveness to yourself, to anyone else involved, to God, to the universe, to fate, to whomever you need to forgive... and that you can accept what has been, embrace the present moment, and look forward to what is to come.

(and if my posts about birth offend you, PLEASE, just skip them!)

Oh, and my daughter's soother? It was a life saver! I felt guilty about it long after she'd given it up. But then I came across more information and learned about why, in our case, meeting all sucking needs at the breast could not have worked. And now I am thankful for that little piece of silicone and I don't regret giving it to her at all. If I regret anything, it's all the time I wasted feeling guilty and apologizing to people I thought would condemn me (no one ever really did).

Highlights from River and Sky Fest

2011-07-18T22:35:00.007-04:00

*arriving and setting up camp before dark

*full moon - who needs a flashlight?

*man trying to navigate his way to his campsite by the moon at 3:00am

*cold lake on a hot day

*roots in the air

*watching Jill back into a tree

*maple coffee in Huntsville

*being brought to tears by the combined beauty of a hula hoop dancer and the sweet sounds of Bruce Peninsula

*ghost stories on a dark trail

*early morning earl grey

*pregnant blood suckers

*Gern F's hilarious song dedications

*huge glass jars of lemon water

*Diamond Rings' bright blue eyeshadow and crazy stage antics

*Carolina (Your voice haunts my most beautiful dreams, Amanda.)

*best ever performance of Derby Girl

*blue jay feathers

*sweet potato fries and aioli

Summer Sweet Music

2011-07-05T00:07:00.003-04:00

My neighbourhood is full of musicians. On hot summer evenings, I hear the notes made by their instruments float out of their open windows, through the darkening air, and into my open windows. No one here seems to have air conditioners. They just throw open those windows and let the music pour out, sharing it with people walking by on the street and with those in the houses near by. A little bit of them dances out on the notes and touches those who hear. This is true beauty. This is gift. Thanks be to God.

Enough

2011-06-29T23:24:00.003-04:00

A good friend recently wrote about the idea that God gives us enough. Not too much, not too little, but just enough. She was writing in response to someone who was house hunting, but I found what she wrote to be very challenging in regards to a very different area of my life.

This is the area of time.

I always feel like I don't have enough of it. I feel the weight of everything I want to do, but don't have time for. I often feel in a panic because I just DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME! I lay in bed at night consumed with anxiety over everything I won't ever get around to.

But what if the amount of time I have is actually enough?

We have all been allotted the same 24 hours in a day. What if I lived my life as though those 24 hours were all that I needed? What if I stopped with the panic and the rushing and started to accept that what I get done each day is all that I need to get done. It is enough.

God has given me the hours of my days. They are all the time that I need. They are enough. This is the truth that I want to live in.

Thanks, Les, for your challenging words.

Why Pain?

2011-06-20T23:09:00.006-04:00

For me, giving birth naturally (by which I mean a great many things, but for the purpose of this post, I will simply define it as "without pain medication") was of utmost importance the first time I was pregnant. There were many reasons for this, which I will try to explain.

Going into it the first time, I read and read and read every thing I could get my hands on: books, websites, text books, birth stories of all sorts, the midwife archives... The more I read, the more convinced I became that not only was I capable of giving birth naturally, but that I actually wanted to do it. I wanted to do it because I read about how epidurals suppress the flow of hormones that do all sorts of wonderful things for a labouring woman: keep her labour going strongly, supply her with natural pain relief and a last burst of energy to push out her baby and help her to bond with her baby after birth. (Animal research shows that sheep who labour with an epidural reject their newborns and human research bears out the notion that moms with epidurals can be at a disadvantage when it comes to bonding). I read about how the drugs in epidurals cross the placenta to the baby and often cause drowsiness which makes it harder for the baby to latch on after birth.

I read about the side effects some women experience with an epidural: itchiness, headaches, chills, incomplete pain relief (at a time when your natural pain relief has been "turned off") nausea, vomiting, fever, increased risk of post-partum hemorrhage, etc. And those were only the more common, minor ones. More serious (albeit rare) side effects included convulsions, cardiac arrest, respiratory paralysis and maternal death. I also read about long-term effects such as back aches lasting for months and (this alone would cause me to reconsider wanting an epidural had that been my inclination) loss of perineal sensation and sexual function.

I learned that if I chose to have an epidural, I would more likely than not be confined to the bed and have to give birth lying on my back. I don't know why exactly, but I react very strongly and negatively (sometimes to the point of tears) to images of women giving birth on their backs, especially if their feet are up in stirrups. I find this position to be degrading and dehumanizing. It is a position of extreme vulnerability and helplessness and is also completely unnatural as far as giving birth goes, making things far more difficult than they need to be for the mother, although much easier for the doctor.

Given all these drawbacks, epidurals looked less and less appealing to me. Also, I am an idealist and I did want to experience birth in all its gory glory. I hoped to have an experience which was empowering and of which I was in control. I did not want to be at the mercy of anyone else. (Little did I know how much I would be, even without an epidural! I am thankful to have been attended by people fully deserving of my trust, people who would never have taken advantage of my vulnerable state.)

Well, those nine months flew by. I moved across the province for 6 weeks so that I could avoid a hospital birth and I gave birth to Astrid in my old bedroom at my parents' house. I missed two full nights of sleep. I was pushed to my limits. My labour was long; it was hard; it was painful. Far more so than I ever could have imagined. I did what I had set out to do though. The word that best described how I felt immediately afterward was "VICTORIOUS". I couldn't really believe that I had actually done what I'd just done.

As the weeks went by, I realized that I got so much more from an unmedicated birth than just the experience of having done it. I gained a new respect and appreciation for my body. This was a wonderful thing to have when my body was no longer the firm, lean, nicely shaped thing it used to be. I felt very accepting of my "new" body, knowing what it had been capable of, what it had gone through for me and my daughter. I learned that contrary to how I had often seen myself, I was powerful, I was strong, I was capable. Again, these are wonderful things to believe about yourself as you navigate the uncharted territory of new parenthood. I feel that my birth gave me a huge boost of confidence in those early, uncertain days.

As far as control goes, I learned a lot. Giving birth naturally gave me control in some ways, but it taught me to completely surrender control in others. This lesson of balance between control and surrender was reinforced almost daily once I was a mother. My birth prepared me for it well.

After my first experience of giving birth at home without drugs, I knew that I would never have it any other way. My second birth was absolutely wonderful. I was surprised -shocked, really- by how easy it was compared to the first time. My body knew what to do. I felt connected to my baby the whole time. I was able to reach down and help maneuver her into just the right position to ease her entrance into the world, into her daddy's hands, making it such an easy birth on my body. None of this would have been possible with an epidural.

My third birth was harder and more painful than my second, but it was the one in which I most fully got to experience the power of my body. I gave birth to August standing up and was able to give myself over to my body 100% for the first time. It was amazing!

The reason it bothers me that more women do not want to give birth without pain medication, or are non-commital about it at best, is that I feel like they are missing out. I don't deny that there are all sorts of birth experiences and that many of them are positive. But I have not yet met a woman who has experienced both types of birth (medicated vs. natural) and felt that the medicated one was the better of the two. (An exception to this would be women who wanted an epidural the first time and couldn't have one for whatever reason). I want women to know the exultation of giving birth. The wonder of it. The empowerment. The joy. I don't think these things exist in quite the same way when you are medicated.

I also don't deny that the day you give birth is only just one day. It's not the be all and end all. It is the start of a life-long journey. In that sense, it's like a wedding. And a crappy or mediocre wedding does not mean the rest of your marriage will be crappy or mediocre. But who wouldn't rather have a good wedding to look back on? Who doesn't want that day to be special and important and to set the tone for what is to come? Who doesn't want it to be all that it possibly could be? (I must add that I feel giving birth is a more significant event than is a wedding in many ways - I could probably write a whole LONG post about it. Suffice it to say, I have spoken with women who feel bitter and traumatized about their birth experiences many years after the fact. I have never heard such feelings expressed about a less than stellar wedding.)

Women are STRONG! They are POWERFUL! Their bodies are AMAZING! They are CAPABLE! And every day they sell themselves short. They live in fear. They believe themselves to be weak and unable to deal with pain. They believe they need to be rescued. They don't realize that they have within them the resources to go through hardship and difficulties on their own. This makes me sad.

I want to be able to embrace what life brings me. I want never to be controlled by others, but to be able to surrender control to God and to the forces of nature. I want not to be afraid. I want to have confidence in myself, knowing that I have the resources within me to get through anything. I want these things for all women. I believe that birth is a good place to start. This is my passion. This is what I really care about. This is what I believe in.

Excuse Me While I Rant a Little

2011-06-14T23:57:00.006-04:00

I would like very much to know why more women are not more motivated to have unmedicated births. Could someone please enlighten me?

Giving birth hurts. I get it. I know.

And I realize that sometimes an epidural is really very helpful in achieving a vaginal birth. And sometimes it can help a woman dilate who has stalled.

I get it. I know.

But I want women everywhere to know: YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF! YOU WERE MADE TO DO THIS!

If a scrawny, narrow-hipped wimp like me could do it (three times) YOU CAN TOO! (and no, I did not have short, easy labours - at least not the first and third times).

And fathers, for pete's sake, your partner does not need to be rescued! She needs to be supported and told she can do it. She needs you to stand up for her and TRUST in her power and in her ability to handle what she is going through. And if you are afraid of the process of giving birth, maybe you should skip out on the birth and get some confident, supportive females in there instead. Or hire a doula who can support you, so that you can support your partner.

Forgive me. I have been living with student midwives for the last half year and hearing their tales makes me want to yell and scream A LOT!

Here (in case you want it) is my advice for achieving an unmedicated birth:

1. deal with fear; overcome it

2. plan to give birth at home

Soon (when the day has not slipped away quite so far) I will write about why on earth you would want to have an unmedicated birth in this day and age of technological advancement where pain and suffering are no longer necessary.

In the mean time, I'm going to scream a little: AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!

ReFashion

2011-05-26T17:40:00.004-04:00

In an attempt to find amigurumi patterns, I stumbled upon this website. It was all the inspiration I needed to fish out some old clothes that I've had hanging around for years, unable to give them away because every time I try, they seem to cry, "Don't do it! I'm still good for something!"

Just a couple hours before I took these pictures, this dress was a floor length, long-sleeved mu-mu/flour sack type thing that I've had since I was a teenager. I wish I had before pictures, but I was so excited to start chopping away at it that I didn't even think of it.

Please forgive the quality of these. No one else was here to take them and my camera doesn't have a timer.

Staycation

2011-05-26T17:21:00.005-04:00

Sweetpea wasn't quite ready to take out on her first adventure this long-weekend, so we decided to have a camp out at home instead.

We roasted wieners and marshmallows in the chiminea (well, the non-vegetarians did) and then we set up our sleeping bags and had our first night in the VW. We decided we weren't impressed with the camp ground. It was the noisiest one we'd ever been to - dogs barking, passersby talking at all hours, sirens wailing, the constant thrum of traffic. But no one would give us a refund! Jason and I watched an Adam Sandler movie up on the top bunk while the kids slept below us.

The next morning, Jase cooked us breakfast in the van. The little kitchen works beautifully!

We rounded out the weekend with a walk to the park and the ice cream parlour, and then spent Monday at the museum of nature in Ottawa. Sunday I was really sick and we mostly laid around and let the kids watch movies.

All in all, aside from getting sick, it was a really lovely long weekend.

Our House is Full of Love

2011-05-07T00:48:00.003-04:00

What more could I hope for than that my children feel this to be true?

I felt a surge of joy when I saw this written on the deck in Astrid's writing with the sidewalk chalk.

So many times I loose my patience. I get frustrated when children complain about sweeping the floor, or can't understand their math work no matter how many ways I explain it, or fight over which music we get to listen to or who gets the favoured toy.

I cling to the passage that says "love covers over a multitude of sins" and pray that it would do so in our family. That our house would, indeed, be full of love.

Vote

2011-04-30T23:10:00.004-04:00

This is the first time in my life that I have felt really, truly torn about who to vote for. With the election only a couple days away, I still have not made up my mind.

Do I vote from my heart and put the check mark in the box next to the candidate whose party has a platform I can really get behind, the party that I have always voted for? Or do I vote from my head, knowing that the riding I live in is one of the closest races between the two good ol' parties, and that if I don't want one of them in power, I really should vote for the other? Even if it means voting for a party that I feel has a watered down platform (although the candidate in my riding seems to be a very solid guy).

ERGGHH! What to do?!

I do not want a party in power that does not (in practice) believe in democracy. That cares only about money and caters to big corporations. That wants to spend money on violence rather than on peace. That is too short-sighted and greedy to take the necessary steps to try to prepare a healthy planet for my children and grand-children. That tries to instil fear in its citizens in order to control them.

I want to give my support to a party that believes in what I believe in. To send a message that THIS is what I care about.

Can I not have it both ways?

Kids will be Kids

2011-04-30T21:41:00.008-04:00

One of the great things about learning at home as a kid is that you have the freedom to just be a kid.

My eldest is almost 10 now. When I was that age and spent time with my friends, we mostly sat around and talked. Often meanly about other girls.

I am thankful that my daughters still PLAY. They still invent imaginary worlds and inhabit them fully. They don't seem to feel pressure to be cool or to seem mature. They don't sit around and gossip; they act like CHILDREN.

They are missing out on the socialization they'd get at school and I am very thankful for that. There is something terrible that can happen when young girls are put together in large numbers with other girls their own age. I'm thinking about this because I just read a story written by a woman with whom I was good friends in my teen years. Her experience, while horrific, is, unfortunately, not all that rare.

I am thankful that my girls have a good bunch of friends who also learn at home. Some of them are also girls and some of them are the same ages as them, but there is not the herd mentality or the popularity struggles that many children face at school, partly, I think, because the group is more diverse (gender and age wise) and also because it is not all of them together all of the time. They also have the chance to play with friends who do attend school and I'm glad for that.

The mother of one of their friends told me once that she loves when her daughter can play with mine because she is free to imagine and make believe and just PLAY. She then launched into the details of the social life that her daughter experiences at school and I was left feeling grateful that my own daughters have so far escaped this.

I was always part of the popular group at school (at least up until about grade 10) but I also remember hiding in the bathroom during recess to avoid being outside all alone during weeks of being completely ignored by all my friends because I'd been caught playing with someone who wasn't considered cool. I remember being teased mercilessly about my physical development which lagged behind most of the other girls in my class. I remember doing work in groups and being afraid to give any input at all lest it be deemed stupid and made fun of.

The question I am asked most often when people find out our family homeschools is, "What about socialization?" I still feel surprised every time I hear it. First of all, my children do NOT lack for opportunities to socialize (and nor do the vast majority of homeschooled children). And secondly, why is the socialization received in school felt to be so essential? I do not feel it is always very healthy. It is often downright damaging - unless things have changed a lot since I was a kid, which may be the case, but still doesn't change the fact that there are other ways to get "socialization".

Last week we went to see a movie with a bunch of other homeschooling families and one of the girls had on a t-shirt that said "schools are for fish". It showed a bunch of fish swimming close together forming the shape of another fish. And then there was this one, lone little fish off to the side, swimming the other way. I want to raise my kids in ways that celebrate diversity, different paths, different directions. I don't want them to ever believe that they need to be like everyone else, or that everyone else needs to be like them. I want them to feel OK about being the one going in the opposite direction and maybe even to be the ones who encourage the others that different directions might work for them, too. I want them to feel comfortable with who they are and not to feel the need to change that in order to conform to someone else's ideas of what is cool in order to be accepted.

Anywho... I don't write all this to say that I feel that people who send their children to school are in some way failing them or not doing the right thing. (Different paths, right?) But I am often asked why we've chosen to homeschool and this is one (of many) reasons.

Astrid and Muirgen pretending to be pioneers with their good friend, Hannah

Taking Dinner Alone

2011-04-24T21:36:00.003-04:00

The children and their father are gone
I met them in the road on coming home
out for a walk

I sit alone, small
at the head of the immense table
dip bread in soup
fork in jar, spear olives,
slices of orange rind preserved in oil

something I only just learned was possible

I eat with book in hand
read lines of poetry
between bites of food
red, black, grey crayon
marks of the day
paling next to the words therein
smudging into something beautiful

now in hindsight

the brick of butter sits solid on the little dish before me

One Thousand Gifts

2011-04-06T21:52:00.006-04:00

When I keep hearing the same thing, over and over and over, from so many different sources, I start to think that perhaps God is trying to tell me something.

The message lately seems to be:
Slow down. Live in the present moment. Find the glory, the wonder, the holiness of each minute. Give thanks. All that I need is here, now. Etc.

I have been challenged with the idea that in order for real change to happen, I must stop asking for something to change and instead, be grateful for what already is. Right here. Right now.

I know all this is true.
But I fear.

I fear that if I don't stay on top of things, something will get missed. If I don't worry about the future, it won't unfold the way I want it to. If I don't stress about my kids and their education, I will cause their certain failure in life. If I let things pile up, I will be buried alive. If I don't hurry, I will miss out.

Fear is what stops me from being present moment by moment. Fear is what causes me to be ungrateful. Fear is what makes this present moment not enough. Because fear stops me from entering into it completely, with my whole self. I am too busy thinking about what comes next. So that nothing gets missed.

I spent a glorious weekend away with wonderful friends. I heard some amazing speakers at a homeschooling conference in Kitchener. Women who have done what I am doing. Who have taught and learned with their children and have watched them grow up and find their places in the world. Who have seen them succeed. One of these women said, quite bluntly,
"You will miss things. You will not cover everything."
Wait a minute. That's not the kind of encouragement I need. I need to be told that I can do it. That I can cover everything that needs to be covered. That I will not miss a thing. I need to know that it's possible! But then she said,
"and that's OK".
She talked about all that she missed. The ways she fell short. And she has children now in university and in meaningful careers and in mission work around the globe.

I think how lovely it would be to be in her place. To not have to worry about my children's education anymore. To not have to deal with the fights, the hassles. To breath a sigh of relief that they have "made it". But I don't want to spend these years wishing them away. I want to LIVE here. Now. And I am not so foolish as to believe that she doesn't have new worries of her own now that her children have spread their wings.

The conference ended with a seminar given by Ann Voskamp which left me feeling inspired, encouraged, elated even, by the thought that I can do this. I can live in the moment, giving thanks, experiencing God. That this is enough. That it's everything. That my children will have what they need if I can just get this one thing.

And it was so easy the next day as I lay in bed, no rush to get up, on sheets I would never have to wash in a room I'd never have to clean, with no little voices calling, "Mommy... Mommy...".
As I sat in the sauna, the hot tub, floated around the pool, exchanging thoughts with one of my dearest friends, eating pizza and butter tarts in a little cafe, wandering the streets of a town far from home. I was there. One hundred percent. Life was full. Complete.

I returned home feeling energized and refreshed. Ready to greet my kids and husband. To hear about what fun they'd been up to while I was gone. The joy I felt at the sight of their faces was intense and real. This was fulfillment!

But that night in bed, a conversation opened up and left me feeling drained. Left me wishing things were different. Left me feeling that giving thanks, just then, was next to impossible. The next morning, the kids bickered, they complained about chores, they tried my patience. How I wished things were different.

How could this be happening? So soon? When things, just hours ago, had been so rosy and good?

In ALL things give thanks. It is only in giving thanks for what I already have, and not in begging for change, that I will ever experience real life change. That is what I have been challenged to do by Ann, the woman I heard at the conference, whose book I brought home with me.I have taken up her challenge - the thing that changed her life - to write a list of one thousand gifts. To capture the moments in which lie the beauty and fullness and holiness of life:

1. sunshine breaking through the clouds of an overcast day in the late afternoon

2. bright green chives poking their slender tips up through last year's dull brown death

3. homemade bean bags being tossed from hand to hand

4. Astrid reading to her siblings with such expression

5. that first cup of tea in the morning

6. August, in disguise, leaping out, shouting, "Don't worry! It's your Eyely Boy!"

.......

I'm a list-maker after all. This is something I can do.

Ode to a Tea

2011-03-16T22:51:00.003-04:00

LAPSANG

Swirling wisps of grey-black smoke slither silently through the starry night,
the night of the Suchong Star.

The Suchong Star is the brightest star. Its radiance beckons, seems to call,
to bid me come and join it.

Spirals of smoke rise from the tips of the fire's tongues,
work their way around me,
encircling my body.
And as they drift up into the night, I feel myself become lighter and lighter
until I am weightless, caught in a whirlpool of smoke
lifting me up,
up toward the Suchong Star.
I hear her voice gaining strength as she calls to me and I am carried nearer
and nearer by swirls of smoke.

The journey is long, but pleasant,
spinning on my axis like the earth below,
until the smoke has carried me all the way there.
I have reached the Suchong Star.

She is huge. She is shimmering. She is luminous.
I am blinded and my little fire below is put to shame by her brilliance.
But none of this matters because I am joining her,
penetrating her thick outer crust.

And as we meld into one, we shine with a brightness unknown in all the universe.
We become something beautiful, powerful, new.
We are energy and light and life.

Me and the Suchong Star.

I love lists

2011-03-15T13:49:00.002-04:00

THINGS I WAS HAPPY ABOUT LAST WEEK:

3-headed roosters

painted feet

voodoo dolls

vintage bed sheets

chocolate chip cookies

discussing justice

Shannon's laughter

Lesley's sly smile

green and white yarn

purple walls and orange ceilings

1960's dresses

money trees

rain boots

leg warmers

things being flushed away to another world in the clouds

potato prints

Let the Glory of the Lord Rise Among Us

lavender and eucalyptus oil

irrelevant conversations

talking about birth

three on the love seat

erring on the side of cream

working out plans with the woman next door

a lost license

flavour in your teeth

bird voices

Rachel Greenwood

watercolour paints and chalk pastels

mancala

tea and biscuits left on the floor

daylight at dinner

chatting with Sue

ectotherms

Women's Day

2011-03-08T14:27:00.006-05:00

Seventeen things I like about being a woman (in no particular order):

1. I have breasts that make the most amazing food on earth, which can sustain another human being all on its own.

2. My moods are cyclical. The times when I feel cranky and irritable are predictable and finite.

3. I can grow really good leg and armpit hair!

4. I get to be married to a really great man.

5. I have a body which is powerful and strong and can endure copious amounts of pain and hard work.

6. I bleed each month and this makes me feel grounded and connected to the cycles of nature.

7. I am highly emotional and feel deeply and passionately.

8. I have the privilege of forming beautifully entwined connections with other women.

9. My body is the perfect place for a new person to form and grow.

10. My body was perfectly designed to bring that new person into the world without any help from anyone else.

11. I have a mind that is open to new thoughts, ideas and experiences.

12. I am not afraid to cry and I appreciate the healing power of tears.

13. I can create beauty in my life and in the lives of others.

14. The symphony of hormones that control so many aspects of my physical and emotional self is perfectly orchestrated and blows my mind!

15. I get to wear pretty skirts and dresses and tights and tops and leg-warmers and shoes, or old comfy jeans and t-shirts.

16. I can be hard and tough or soft and vulnerable.

17. I am exactly the person I want to be, despite my flaws, despite the ways I know I could do better.

To all the women in my life: my mother, my mother-in-law, my grandmothers, my daughters, sisters and sisters-in-law, my aunts and dear female friends:

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY!

I am who I am because of you. You fill my life with richness and beauty. The friendship you offer me and what I have learned from you is beyond measure. I love you all.

Thank You!

2011-01-14T12:06:00.003-05:00

When I was younger and imagined what my life would be like, I could never imagine it past the age of 30. I had it all planned out. I knew what I wanted. But only up until the age of 30. I couldn't picture life or myself beyond that.

So when I got to 30, I felt quite liberated. I was free from any plans or ideals that I had created for myself. I could do or be whatever, whoever, I wanted day by day.

I turned 33 on Monday and so far, I have been enjoying my 30's immensely. Life has not slowed down or gotten boring. I have matured (a little, at least!) and feel more capable of handling my moods and feelings rather than letting them handle me. My kids are all at a really comfortable balance of dependence and independence. Life is rich. I have amazing friends and a community of people to whom I am attached and care for and feel cared for in return. I feel that my creativity has grown since I've been in my thirties and that I'm a better problem solver than I used to be. I'm living the life that I want to be living.

On the flip side, I feel the passage of time more urgently now. It slips through my fingers faster with each day. Sometimes this puts me in a bit of a panic. I feel the weight of all that I want to do, but don't/won't have time for, heavy upon my back. I don't want this feeling to take away from the moment I am in at any given time, but sometimes it does.

The thing I like best about getting older is that I feel with each passing year, I become more and more the person I am supposed to be. I grow more fully into myself. And I love that I have people in my life who really know me and are part of this process with me, weather they realize that or not.

This year, for my birthday, I was given some really great gifts. I got
-a darning egg
-a book for writing all sorts of lists
-hand embroidered wall hangings with thoughtful, meaningful words on them
-a vintage, cream coloured dress
-huge, outdoor clay flower pots
-pretty hand-made cards
-a tea pot with green leaves on it
-lots of tea
-yummy chocolate truffles
-a vegan cookbook arranged seasonally
-a chocolate cake baked from scratch by someone who has never baked a thing before in his life and doesn't even eat chocolate himself!

These are all things which bring me crazy amounts of pleasure!
Thank you Jordin, Michelle, Lesley, Doug and Rini, Sherri, Shawna, Jill and (most of all) Jason.

My Neighbourhood

2010-12-30T12:44:00.004-05:00

Once called Picardville,
it was the seediest part of town.
Home to moonshine makers, drunkards, ladies of the night.
It was the red light district.
Many wanted to BURN THE WHOLE THING DOWN!

Had they had their way, would it still exist for me as it does?
Holding within itself my home and family, many of my closest friends?
Would it still bring me child after needy child, ringing my bell at all hours of the day, trampling my tomatoes, spilling my pots of plants, stealing fruit from the fridge, teaching bad words to my kids?
Would it still contain such a mishmash of people and homes?
People of all religions, occupations, sexual orientations, socioeconomic statuses?
Living in rented apartments, dilapidated houses, stately limestone dwellings, turn of the century red-brick beauties or rooms in family homes? All coexisting in a reasonably ordered fashion?
Would I still be saying good morning, on the one hand, to the university professor next door
and good night, on the other, to the panhandler from downtown making her way past my house to wherever she'll spend the night?

"It's like living in a fish bowl." says my mother. "How do you not feel claustrophobic?"
What I feel is connected -
to a body made up of healthy and sick parts,
ugly and beautiful parts,
none feeling forced to be like the others, each making up the whole.

I try to bring some light into the dark places. More often than not, I fail.
But this is home.
This is the place that gives shape to my life.

FIRE!

2010-12-09T13:39:00.003-05:00

As a child I suffered from horrible nightmares. They all had to do with fire - my worst fear.

The other night I read August a book about fire fighting. He loves fire trucks, fire fighters and reading about them. But this book was more advanced than most that I read to him and went into a lot of detail about how a fire is fought, what risks the fire fighters face, etc. I went to bed thinking that I would probably dream about fire that night.

I didn't, but the next morning August told me that he had had a dream that our house and van were on fire.

"Oh, that's horrible," I said. "It must have been a terrible dream."

"No," he replied. "It was AWESOME!"

Just do it!

2010-11-21T22:06:00.004-05:00

So, the Gertrudes have been shortlisted for a CBC Radio 3 Bucky Award!
Their song, Ronnie Hawkins, is up for the 'most Canadian song'.
Go vote for it.

Carrots

2010-11-20T17:24:00.003-05:00

I have a tray of carrots in the oven as I write this and as they are my absolutely number 1 favourite way to prepare carrots, I thought I'd share it.

Cut a bunch of carrots lengthwise into long, thin strips or use skinny baby carrots (NOT baby cut carrots like you buy in a bag at the store).

Drizzle a tray with olive oil.

Lay the carrots on it in a single layer.

Sprinkle with coarse sea salt, fresh ground pepper and dried mint to taste.

Drizzle with more olive oil.

Bake at 400F for about 15-20 minutes, until they're just starting to get a bit black and crispy.

YUMMM!

If I had a good camera and some skills, I'd post amazing, beautiful pictures of these lovely carrots, but I don't. Sorry. If you'd like to see some beautiful food, check out Smitten Kitchen. You'll be glad you did.

I Do

2010-11-19T13:25:00.002-05:00

Astrid's dolls had a wedding in the hall the other day. While hanging laundry in my sewing room, I couldn't help but overhear the vows and just had to write them down. The following was spoken in a bang-on impression of a really dull, boring preacher who drones on and on and on...

"Will you, man, be good to this woman and act as if you are both one person and not get into arguments or fights for the rest of your lives?"

"I will."

"Will you, woman, marry this man in love and generosity and treat him kindly and act as if you are both one person for the rest of your lives?"

"I will."

Woot!

2010-11-08T14:46:00.003-05:00

Meet Sweet Pea:Oh, the adventures we will have!

Yes, I'm an Idealist

2010-10-28T22:21:00.013-04:00

So, I picked up a book from the parenting shelf at the library the other day and skimmed through it while the kids were reading their own books. It was called 'The Parenting Crisis' by Scott Wooding.
The author contends that children are much harder to raise these days and have so many more issues and he, of course, knows exactly why: it is because of the feminist movement and women's shift from the home to the workplace.

Now, I happen to agree that it's ideal for children to be in their own home with a loving parent (who may or may not be female), but for pete's sake, this is not always possible and, furthermore, CAN WE STOP BLAMING WOMEN FOR EVERY PROBLEM ON EARTH?

Is it not bad enough that most mothers feel at least slightly ill at ease with the choices they have made concerning career and childcare and that many feel down-right consumed by guilt? That most feel that they can never win, no matter what choice they might make?

I, for one, feel like blaming something else for a change. Women have taken enough blame for enough things (which are usually not their fault).

Why don't we blame the society that necessitated the feminist movement in the first place? Why not blame the fact that society, STILL, is not set up in a way to accommodate women and their needs - especially once they become mothers.

I am in the middle of a book right now called 'The Politics of Breastfeeding - when breasts are bad for business'.
I HIGHLY recommend it. To EVERYONE. The author, Gabrielle Palmer, sheds light on, among many other things, the ways in which society has changed drastically from our days as gatherer-hunters to the present age and the effects these changes have had on women.

Another book which has really been shaping the way I've been thinking lately is called 'Beyond War', which I blogged about not long ago. It also talks a lot about the ways in which society has changed over the millenia and how this has related to violence and war. SUCH interesting stuff!
What I've been learning is that the simpler the political and economic structure of any group of people, the more egalitarian and healthy and peaceful that group of people is likely to be. In simple gatherer-hunter groups, there is no hierarchy or ruling authority. Men do not have more power, rights or status than women. While violence is present to some degree, it is generally on a small scale - one on one - and full-fledged war is almost unheard of. Babies and children are not seen as a liability or a burden, but fit right into the rhythms of daily life. There is also much less work. The typical nomadic, gatherer-hunter works the equivalent to two days a week in order to secure what is needed for survival.

As societies become more settled and their structures become more complex, as hierarchies start to develop and governments form, an egalitarian society is no longer possible, violence escalates, war becomes common and the general health of the population declines.

The shift to agriculture was a massive change to humanity's way of life and the shift to industry was even more so. There were things to be gained, certainly, but there was also much to be lost. Not least of all, for women. Women went from being independent, autonomous beings, having equal footing with men (in gatherer-hunter groups) to having no voice, no vote, no rights to own property once they were married, no rights to their things or even their own children in the case of divorce, no rights to divorce in the first place. They became completely dependent on their husbands. The feminist movement has been absolutely essential to help overturn these injustices.

When it comes to the problems we are seeing in our children (or the ones the author of said library book sees, anyway) I think it's completely UNFAIR to blame women, or the movements they have been involved with in order to seek justice and liberty for themselves.
I want to blame Industry. Capitalism. Progress. Government. War.

I don't see how it's possible given where we are at, but I wish I could raise my children in a society that was truly egalitarian. Where there were no hierarchies. No rich people and poor people. No money. No war. I wish I could raise my children in a society where all members contributed to the survival and well-being of the group and the contributions of all were equally valued. Where children would not be seen as an impediment to progress, but would fit into daily life which would be flexible enough to accommodate their needs and the needs of all. Where the cycle of a woman's reproductive life - of childbearing and breastfeeding - was respected and considered normal and healthy. Where that cycle would be honoured and would fit into the grand scheme of the functioning of the group, not forcing women to make choices which have negative consequences either way.

I do feel that until the place of children in society changes, women will never truly be free to make the choices that are best for them. And I feel that until society is vastly rearranged, the place of children will not change.

It feels like such a far off dream.

Outsmarted

2010-10-28T00:59:00.002-04:00

My body is too smart for its own good.

It knows what's going on and devises all sorts of schemes to get what it wants.

I have one plan in mind, but it has another. And I suppose, from my body's point of view, its plan makes a lot more sense than mine does.

But I'm telling you, my body would thank me if it went along with MY plan for once.

GRRR.

Ain't No Sunshine

2010-10-20T23:24:00.004-04:00

I bake at night
to fill time
fill my belly
my need for some pleasure.
I brush my teeth in silence
then consider how lonesome my brush looks
there on the shelf with nothing beside it.
I lie on your side of the bed
so it's not so empty and cold.
I lie there, but don't sleep much
feeling keenly that I'm not really you
that I can't ever be two people
can't do what the two of us can.
I never wanted to need someone else
in order to be complete.
But I've become half of a set.
I can fill my own time
my own belly
but not my own heart or mind.
I can keep this house a running
but I can't keep warm more than one half of the bed.

I stole this picture from Amanda. Hopefully she won't mind!
I love you all, Gertrudes!

Problem Solved

2010-10-20T23:12:00.002-04:00

You may remember that a while ago my blog stopped letting me post pictures.

Well, I finally figured out that if I get to my blog via a different route, I can post pics. I still can't if I get here the old way.

Weird. But I'm satisfied.

So, if you scroll down, you can finally see the pictures from the girls' birthdays a few posts back. (Yes, it is only a few posts ago - shows how little I've been blogging lately).

Fish

2010-10-19T15:20:00.005-04:00

The aquarium Muirgen got for her birthday has been up and running for a while now. We've really been enjoying the fish.
But on Sunday morning, calamity struck. Tiger, our dwarf gurami, was found lying about on the bottom of the tank, obviously quite ill. We expected to come home from church to find him dead, but he was not, although he was clearly suffering. Muirgen spent most of the day in tears over his condition and petitioned the Lord fervently to let Tiger get better and live.

Well, Tiger is still alive, but he is certainly not better. I do wish the poor fish would die so that his suffering would end and we, especially Muirgen, could grieve fully and have closure.

I've googled fish diseases of all sorts, but Tiger shows no symptoms of anything identifiable. No white spots, no yellow dust, no weird growths or bloated body parts.

I've considered euthanizing him, but I don't know if Muirgen would ever forgive me (she still has hope that he will recover) and, truthfully, I don't know if I could bring myself to do it. Apparently I'd need special ingredients in order to do it in a way that would not cause extra suffering.

I knew we'd have to deal with dead fish. I knew it would be hard for Muirgen, but this ongoing saga is not what I was bargaining for. Please, Tiger, hurry up and die!

Boo Hoo

2010-08-31T22:42:00.002-04:00

Well, I have tried and tried to post the pictures for the girls' birthday post, but keep getting the same error message. I googled it and it seems to be a problem without a solution, striking random bloggers. I guess my blog will be pictureless from here on in.

Today we drove to Upper Canada Village in a rental car. Our car had a run-in with a little old Greek lady. Jason was working at the library and saw the whole thing go down. The lady was trying to parallel park behind the Matrix and Jason thought she looked awfully close to it. He went to check things out just in time to see her pull away from our car, grinding her car down the length of it in the process. The poor woman was in tears, apologizing profusely in broken English, while the Father from the Greek Orthodox church across from the library tried to help smooth things over.

While our car is in for body work, our insurance is providing the rental. I guess insurance is good for more than stealing our money after all.

Upper Canada Village was wonderful. We all agreed that life was a million times more beautiful before the invention of plastic, when people had only what they really needed. We milked cows and petted pigs. Corky and I chatted with the woman working on a quilt about fiber arts for much longer than our children felt was necessary. Thankfully Corky's step-dad was along and played with the kids on the rope and wooden plank swings hanging from the apple tree in the back yard when they got bored. The girls discovered that they love apples with salt on them and I discovered that I really would wallpaper my entire house if I could find wallpaper that looked like it did in the 1860's. I also came home with the notion that I might start canning with the old jars from my grandma again - the ones with the glass lids and rubber sealing bands that you're not supposed to use anymore. When I stepped into my kitchen this evening I felt that the modern appliances looked so ugly and out of place in our lovely, old house.

Error 400

2010-08-22T00:01:00.002-04:00

I had a bunch of pictures all ready to go with my last post, but blogger won't let me post them.

Grrrr!

Older

2010-08-18T22:11:00.011-04:00

My girls got older in July. They get older every day, I suppose. But they turned from 6 and 8 to 7 and 9 in July.

Muirgen got to celebrate her birthday at the cottage. We picked wildflowers from along the side of the road for her crown and she decorated cupcakes with her cousins and friends. Astrid got to pick up her dad at the airport on her birthday after his west coast tour with the band. She ate cake, bleary-eyed, at midnight after getting home.We went to the beach the next day to celebrate properly and had the whole place to ourselves because it rained. We set up the teepees I made the girls for their special days and they used them as change houses. (Here's the pattern in case you'd like to make one, too.)Astrid got a journal and she has filled nearly half of it already. She has decided that, along with being an archaeologist, she also wants to be a writer when she grows up.

Muirgen, who adores animals of every shape and size, wants to be a farmer or a vet when she grows up. Unfortunately, Jason is allergic to just about every animal out there, except for fish, so we got Muirgen a fish tank for her birthday.

Last week the girls went to camp.Astrid got to participate in an actual excavation at archaeology camp and Muirgen got to ride horses, catch frogs, shoot sling shots and arrows, and go fishing at U-turn Ranch, a camp run by my cousin on his farm. She loved being around the animals and even doing chores like shoveling manure.

They both loved their camps and have had many arguments over who's was the most fun. I kept telling them that they both did what was best suited to each of them and their own interests, but they seem to feel that the other would have enjoyed what they did just as much. Never mind that Astrid would not get on a horse if her life depended on it and Muirgen couldn't care less about drawing maps and labeling artifacts.

There have been times when I have worried about certain traits or habits my daughters have had, but I have come to realize that the words of a wise friend were true. She told me not to worry or spend too much time trying to figure out how to change them, but to know that, as they got older and matured, they would grow out of those things that seemed so troublesome. I am very proud of my girls and love seeing the people that they are becoming as they get older and figure out what they love and how they want to relate to the world. We pray often that the fruits of the spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control) would grow in abundance in their lives and it is such a privilege to see these things begin to blossom within them.

Astrid and Muirgen, may the coming year be full of good things for you as you continue to discover yourselves and your places in the world. May the fruits of the spirit continue to grow in your lives.

Quote of the Day

2010-07-26T23:36:00.005-04:00

"In an era of nuclear missiles and other weapons of mass destruction, trying to achieve security through the threat or use of military force is like trying to perform heart surgery with a chain saw."

Today's quote comes from the book 'Beyond War: The Human Potential For Peace' by Douglas P. Fry. I picked it up at the library this afternoon and I am incredibly excited about reading it.

I have been reading about war for a while now. It all began with an anthology called 'Women on War' - a collection of writing by women about their experiences with and thoughts about war. It was such heavy reading that I didn't make it through the book before it had to be returned. It had me in tears on many occasions.

But what I read of that book, and hearing snippets about the war in Afghanistan on the news, left me feeling an intense need to understand war, and, more specifically, why it happens, how humans can engage in such horrificness.

I started reading books about Afghanistan and the war begin waged over there. They cemented in my mind the belief that that war is completely unjustifiable, and helped me understand the reasons it started in the first place and what really led up to it, but did nothing to help me understand the deeper motivations humans have for engaging in warfare.

I have blogged before about my bewilderment upon encountering in other books the idea that humans are incapable of living without war. How can that be?

And hence my excitement about this book. Fry posits that humans are NOT inherently violent, prone-to-war creatures, but that we believe this to be true because of the cultural beliefs and assumptions we are steeped in. These beliefs gives us reason to go to war and also an excuse for our violent behaviour. He examines all sorts of studies and ideas that seem to support the notion that violence is instinctual and inevitable for humans and points out the flaws in their reasoning and methodology, showing how they are biased by our belief in our inherently violent nature. He believes that we have the capacity to resolve conflict without violence and that, indeed, it is what we must work toward. I couldn't agree more!

I can't wait to delve into 'Beyond War'. I am hoping to have some of my faith in humanity restored.

Camper Van

2010-07-26T10:24:00.002-04:00

There aren't usually too many material things that I want in life.

But lately, I have become obsessed with wanting a 1970's Volkswagen camper van. I've sort of thought it would be a cool thing to have ever since I was about 16, but Jase and I have been spending our evenings recently poring over ads for them online.
Oh, imagine the possibilities...

We'd never have to tent again!

We could rent out all the rooms in our house and travel across Canada for a year!

We would look oh, so cool driving around in it!

To tell you the truth, I really hate the feeling of really wanting something. I'd much rather feel content with what I have. Like our trusty Matrix and too-small tent.

Bittersweet

2010-06-29T21:47:00.003-04:00

Last Tuesday afternoon, my daughters ran through the woods with bows and arrows made from branches by one of their friends, playing Robin Hood with a lovely little pack of children. I sat on the beach with the mothers of these children and chatted about things like preserving food and how to make day time swimming lessons downtown a reality.

August, not quite big enough to keep up with the others, spent a lot of time on my lap nursing. Our friend, Melodie, had been over the night before for dinner and a movie, so he'd been up later than usual and was really tired. He fell asleep at my breast, his little hand tucked up warmly under my shirt.

It was the last time he nursed.

That night at bedtime he told me he was weaned. And he has not asked to nurse since then.

I knew he'd been thinking about it. He kept saying, "I'm almost weaned. Almost means I can still nurse." He also mulled over the idea that nursing was for babies, but sometimes big boys (such as himself) still nursed.

He loved nursing. And I loved nursing him. But he was ready to make the decision that he was finished, that he was big enough not to need it anymore.

This is the first time I have felt any sorrow at the loss of a nursing relationship. I was more than ready when the girls weaned. When Astrid weaned, I was also nursing Muirgen. When Muirgen weaned, I was expecting August. This is the first time in nearly ten years that I have not had an intimate, physical connection with at least one of my children. My body is completely my own again, having no obligations to anyone. What I do with it now is my choice, no longer dictated by anyone else. And that is really strange.

I can hardly believe it was almost a decade ago that I first saw the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. I mourn, just a little, the amazingly rapid passage of time, the steps away from me made by my children. I mourn because part of me just wants to hold onto them forever, to freeze this moment in time when they are still so young and vulnerable and trusting.

Nurturing another life is such an amazing thing. The opportunity to do it is the best gift I have ever been given. And I must open my arms to set them free, to release them to the world, to all that it holds for them, trusting that the foundations laid while they are young will stand firm and give them a place to stand, a place to return to for the rest of their beautiful lives.

August on his weaning day

Sweet New Music

2010-06-13T16:52:00.004-04:00

As any musicians among you know, making an album costs money. LOTS of money.

The band my husband is part of, The Gertrudes, has recently recorded an amazing album called 'Dawn Time Riot' and they need money to finish things up.

You can pre-order a copy of the album here. You will be glad you did. And so will the Gertrudes. And you can order shirts, passes to all Gertrudes shows for a year, a song written just for you, or even a set of Gertrudes finger puppets!

Support good music and good people!

Quote of the Day

2010-06-12T21:50:00.004-04:00

"There is a secret in our culture, and it's not that birth is painful. It's that women are strong."
~Laura Stavoe Harm

Good Stuff

2010-05-29T17:25:00.001-04:00

Sir Ken Robinson: Bring on the learning revolution! | Video on TED.com
This talk by Ken Robinson is very inspiring. Check it out.
My only issue with it is that I don't believe the type of learning he is advocating can possibly be done in schools, no matter how progressive or reformed they are. It's one of the major reasons our kids learn at home.

My Least Favourite

2010-05-28T21:38:00.005-04:00

I've found math difficult and horrid since about 5th grade. At that point I got lost and never quite found my way back on track, although I managed to fake it reasonably well. I did advanced math in grades 9 and 10 because I was told that no one with my overall average should be taking general level courses. At the end of grade 10 I begged and pleaded to be placed in the general level math course for grade 11, but they would have none of it because my final mark in math was still close to 80%. I went into my final math exam in grade 11 with 43%. Thanks to a caring teacher and some intensive study sessions with my sister's boyfriend (now husband) I managed to do OK on the exam and just barely pass the course. Finally I was allowed to drop into general level math. In grade 12, general level, my grades in math were back up in the 80s, but I still did not enjoy it and mostly felt like I didn't truly understand anything I was doing.

And now I am supposed to help my children learn math.

Thankfully, I married someone who is brilliant in math. Today Jason tried very hard to explain to me the difference between volume, weight, density and mass (so that I could help Astrid understand what a liter is). I realized that I had no real idea what any of those terms actually meant. I thought I did, but was I ever wrong.

Jason (who has never struggled to understand mathematical concepts) thinks I am willfully not getting it. That I am shutting down my mind on purpose and that the only reason I don't understand is because I have told myself I don't understand for so many years. But when I try to wrap my mind around these concepts, I feel on the brink of tears (indeed, I spent many tearful nights over my math homework in high school). I feel helplessly and hopelessly incapable of thinking in the way that I need to.

Anyway, after going over it with me for a very long time and patiently answering my questions and thinking of many different analogies to help me understand, Jason finally succeeded in getting me to understand what volume, weight, density and mass really mean. (If only I'd had a teacher in school who could have taken the time to have such discussions with me...)

And then I filled up a big tub with water and got out a bunch of empty containers which held different volumes of liquid, and had some fun with the kids in the back yard.

We had an interesting little conversation afterwards, though, about weather letting the girls see my frustration with math could pass that negativity on to them. Should I try to hide my frustration? We came to the conclusion that it is actually good for them to see that even if something is hard and frustrating, we can take the time to work through it until it is fully understood. That frustration and difficulty don't mean we need to give up on something. The girls were there while Jason walked me through stuff this morning and I think that was a good thing.

Two Things

2010-05-25T21:40:00.003-04:00

1. There is a man who regularly walks down my street playing guitar.

2. There is a rope of bells hanging in my next door neighbour's tree. As she walks to her garden to check the progress of her vegetables, she usually gives it a little shake.

Each time I get to witness one of these two things, it makes me really, unexplainably happy.

Buying Clothes

2010-05-24T09:47:00.002-04:00

Jill asked in the comments of my last post weather *I* could really go without buying clothes.

Well, I really think maybe I could.

Last year, as you know, I tried not to buy any clothes at all. I did end up buying three dresses. But on the whole, I "fasted" from clothes shopping.

After the initial excitement of being able to buy clothes again and taking a couple trips to Value Village at the beginning of this year, much to my surprise, I have found that my desire to buy clothes has drastically waned. I didn't figure last year would have much long term effect, but maybe, just maybe, it has.

I still love clothes, of course. But there have been 2 clothing exchanges already this year where I scored some great stuff and I happen to have a rather large stash of vintage patterns which I aim to learn how to sew. I am part way through my first dress. And it seems to be turning out!

I'm not about to swear off buying clothes completely (not yet, anyway) but I feel like a bit of moderation never hurt anyone.

Good Things Come...

2010-05-22T23:31:00.007-04:00

My in-laws got us a bread machine for Christmas a few years ago. I find that most new-fangled appliances don't get much use in my kitchen. I don't even use a garlic press for pete's sake.

But the bread machine was used often. When it died a sudden death last week, I was quite upset. I did not want to buy a new bread machine, but really couldn't imagine life without one (especially on soup day).

So I posted a wanted ad on Freecycle.

And that is how R2D2 came into our family. He will now be the chief baker of bread in our household.
The longer I live, the more firmly I am convinced that buying things is usually unnecessary. If you wait long enough, most of the things you want will eventually come to you. Sometimes (thanks to things like Freecycle) you don't even have to wait.

Ever since August pooped on the floor in the play room when he was potty training a year ago and I ripped out the carpet rather than clean up the mess, I have been waiting for a nice rug to put in there. One that is pretty and easy to clean. Just the other day my neighbour called over the fence asking if I wanted a rug. She was doing a big Spring purge and just wanted to be rid of it. It was exactly what I wanted!

I really would love never to buy anything other than food. I'm not sure how realistic this is, but just think how much happier my bank account and the planet would be!

You'd have more?!

2010-05-05T21:15:00.003-04:00

Erika asked that question in the comments section of my last post.

Well, yes, I would have more... maybe... I'm at a really great place in life right now where I feel perfectly satisfied with our family of three kids. But I would also be perfectly happy to have more. There are exciting things I could do in the not so distant future if we don't have another baby. But adding another would also be exciting. Either path will bring its own joys and challenges.

Someone recently observed in a conversation we were having that it seems once families reach three kids they usually don't feel so strongly anymore about stopping their family there. He said that once you hit three, you figure, "what's another one... or two... ?"

I must admit, when I found out we would be having three, I was secretly really glad to know that we would not be the average 2-kid family. It felt like we were crossing some invisible line society has drawn. And I have always taken delight in crossing lines.

My kids are lovely. And I am a content mother.

I am extremely grateful.

3

2010-05-04T22:52:00.007-04:00

August turned three.

He wore his flower crown this year, remembering that he refused to last year.

But once he opened the helmets, that was the end of the flowers!

When I look at my three lovely kids, I think, "you know, there could be again as many kids in this world, every bit as wonderful as these three, if only Jason and I felt up to it."

I once read a book by a man who has seven kids and has published many books about parenting. He claims that he and his wife did not get the parenting thing right until their fourth kid. I believe him. I feel like I've gotten closer to "right" with each child. Poor Astrid!

Bikers are people, too.

2010-04-27T16:22:00.002-04:00

For the first time since August arrived three years ago, we can bike places as a family again! WOOHOO!

After not touching her bike last summer after Muirgen learned to ride on 2 wheels, Astrid (with a little bribery from dad) finally decided to give it another try. She met with success! We biked to the bakery yesterday and around the neighbourhood in the evening.

Hopefully August will learn to ride before he outgrows the trailer.

When you live downtown and don't usually have a car, being able to bike is such a great thing.

Evil

2010-04-09T12:54:00.004-04:00

My - it's been a long time!

I've been brooding a lot lately about the problem of evil. This has something to do with the fact that I have been reading a lot about Afghanistan and the war being fought there. I think it'd get anyone mulling over the idea of evil.

Also, we watched a movie the other night about a 23 year old who was recently released from jail for a crime he committed when he was just a boy. It told the story of him trying to reintegrate into society and move beyond his past. I don't want to give away the ending, but it left me feeling very troubled and I went to bed contemplating human nature...

Are humans really inherently evil?
Do people commit truly horrendous acts for no reason?
Or is there always a reason of some sort?
Is there always a cause, however deep down it may be?
Do some people just come messed up or are they messed up by something external to themselves?
How can a human being not see that someone else is another human being just like they are?
Does empathy develop naturally or must it be taught?
Is it sometimes impossible for it to develop or be taught?
Can it be "untaught"?
Is there such a thing as selective empathy?

I long deeply to live in a perfect Kingdom. One ruled by Love and Goodness. How long must we wait for this?

Sisters

2010-03-08T23:06:00.004-05:00

Often, during the day, when I'm folding laundry, or making lunch, or reading to my children, I think of my sister in her house in rural south-western Ontario. I imagine her doing the same things there in her house, with her children. I imagine, longingly, how nice it would be to do some of these things together in her house, in my house. To share meals, to teach our children together and then set them free to play and imagine, to help each other with our daily tasks while sharing conversation. She lives a life that I also live, and I long to share it more fully. But I live on the other side of the province from her.

Often, when I'm drinking tea at night, or watching birth videos on youtube, or shopping at thrift stores, I think of my sister, in her house up north which she shares with other students. I imagine her studying the anatomy of women, moving model babies through model pelvises, learning so she can empower women in their most vulnerable moments. I feel, longingly, how nice it would be to sit on the couch with her reading the same books, sharing bits that strike us, learning together, moving towards the same goal. She lives a life I'd love to someday live, and I wish we could somehow live it together. But I am committed to my children and their education right now, seven hours away from her.

It seems fitting to write about my sisters on International Women's Day. My sisters are two of the loveliest women I know. Flung to all corners of the province we are, and I miss them. I long to share in the dailiness of their lives as I have done at various times in the past.

The bond of sisterhood is different than any other I have experienced. I am eternally grateful to have Shawna and Jill - women whom I love and admire - to share it with.

Guantanamo

2010-03-01T22:32:00.007-05:00

I just finished reading a book called 'My Guantanamo Diary' by Mahvish Rukhsana Khan. She worked as a translator at Gitmo and the book is a record of her experiences with prisoners there.

It left me feeling so strongly that we must teach our children to empathize with others and to stand up for what is right, even when it means resisting authority. We must teach them that people, all people, weather they agree with us on any given thing or not, weather they like us or not, weather they share our beliefs or ways of doing things or not, are people just like we are.

A good friend once asked me why I have such a problem with authority. I didn't really give a proper answer. Partly, it's just my stubborn, selfish nature that doesn't want to be told what to do. But partly it is the conviction that blind submission to authority is a very dangerous thing. It's what led to the holocaust; people were just following orders.

I think (and studies have shown) that humans are too willing to submit to authority. People will do all sorts of terrible things to other people if someone in a position of authority tells them to do it.

Lack of empathy is the second part of the equation. Perhaps if we had a deeper sense of empathy, orders to abuse others would be harder (if not impossible) to follow. But empathy only works if we see others as human beings. You can't have empathy for objects or for abstract concepts.

The American Soldier's Creed states that as a US soldier, you "stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States of America...". But what is "the enemy" that is to be destroyed? Evil is not the enemy. Terror is not the enemy. Other countries are not the enemy. These things are abstract concepts. Just as we can't empathize with them, we can't destroy them. We may like to think this is the case, but it's not. Truly that which can be destroyed is people. People like you, like me - mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, friends, husbands, wives. By giving them a label ("enemy") or a number (like in Nazi concentration camps or at Guantanamo Bay) we are stripping them of their humanity and can more easily think of them as objects or concepts (which is what we think we're out to destroy).

In the prison at Guantanamo Bay, there are many, many innocent people who have been sold to the US or have been wrongfully imprisoned for other reasons. They have been tortured and treated in utterly inhumane ways. Torture is wrong! It is horrible, evil, completely unjustifiable in EVERY circumstance. And the fact that these men were arrested without warrants, have been held without charge, without a chance for a fair trial, is SICKENING.

Please, parents everywhere, I beg you: teach your children to see the humanity in everyone. Teach them that each person on earth is a child of God, is loved by God. Teach them to say no to injustice. Teach them that it is OK to refuse to obey someone who is asking them to do something they know is wrong or will hurt someone else. No matter who is asking.

We must not allow another holocaust. We must not allow another Guantanamo bay. We must submit to only one law: love God, love others. By holding any law against this one, we may judge if it is worth following or not.

On the cover of the Rolling Stone

2010-02-07T22:00:00.007-05:00

OK, well, not exactly, but "on the cover of Penguin Eggs" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

That being said, it's pretty darn exciting all the same!

My husband (farthest right in the front row) and the rest of The Gertrudes were featured in the magazine Penguin Eggs a little while ago. They're practically famous!

I must say, I LOVE this band - the people, the music, the energy they put out. I get warm fuzzies every time I see them perform. And I'd say that even if my own husband didn't play with them. But I sure am glad that he does because I get to enjoy their music more often than most and also get to hang out with this wonderful bunch of people on a sort of regular basis.

Unfortunately, the kids and I won't be heading out to BC for their West Coast tour in July, but will be here in Ontario wishing we were there enjoying their company and their music. We do get to camp with them at Blue Skies though in August! Fun times ahead!

Clothing Swap

2010-02-01T00:20:00.004-05:00

If you're reading this, consider yourself invited.

Bring all those clothes from the back of the closet that you never wear anymore and swap them around.

February 12.
8:00pm

Good times will be had by all.

Quote of the Day

2010-01-17T22:44:00.005-05:00

‘‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that. The beauty of nonviolence is that in its own way and in its own time it seeks to break the chain reaction of evil.’’ -Martin Luther King.

Happy Birthday, Martin Luther King! You were, and remain to be, a true hero.

Eye Contact

2010-01-14T22:45:00.004-05:00

It can be a dangerous thing!

In the last couple weeks I have learned that most people try to avoid it at all costs - at least with people they don't know. Even when directly interacting with you, they will smile and speak to you while looking anywhere but your eyes, or even your face.

When it happens, and you make eye contact with a stranger, it is a little thrilling, even when it feels accidental and the stranger quickly looks away. If they hold your gaze for a little longer, it sends a tiny zap of electricity right down your spine, as if you'd brushed against an electric fence. It feels weird. Almost painful, but not quite. Just good enough to make you want to do it again.

But sometimes, when you make eye contact, the person will acknowledge it and you'll be thrown off guard. A nod of the head, a smile, a brief "hello" or "how's it going?" - it's so unexpected that when it happens, you can be caught unprepared and end up being the one looking quickly, awkwardly away, feeling like you let something slip through your fingers.

Other times you are ready, and when someone you make eye contact with says something like, "Hey, I like your scarf!", you confidently say "Thanks!" and expect to be on your way. But the person may want to tell you how the scarf reminds him of the carpet in his living room which he got from the apartment of a relative after she died. This might lead to a 30 minute conversation outside the library in the cold and you will be shivering, nodding and smiling, 15 minutes late to pick up your kids.

Hair Cut

2010-01-13T20:00:00.003-05:00

I like short hair on me. I think it looks good. It doesn't feel like nearly as much work now as it did when I've had it short in the past. But it just doesn't feel like ME. I feel like when people who don't know me look at me now, they will have a less informed idea of who I really am. It's just not as representative of ME as long hair is.

Resolutions

2010-01-04T00:12:00.004-05:00

It was not what I resolved to do at New Year's last year, but I ended up going on a clothing fast in 2009.

I love clothes. It's something I've struggled with for a long time. I don't really feel OK about it.

I've only purchased second hand clothing for a few years now, but I still don't really feel OK about it.

So I decided not to do it last year.

It was pretty hard. Not because I needed clothes - I have enough clothes to last me for the rest of my life (I'm not exaggerating). But just because it took a lot of self control. I slipped up a few times. Once for a red halter-top dress with flowers embroidered on a band under the bust. Once for a genuine 1950's housewife dress that Jordin took me all the way to Collingwood to see (well, that is not the only reason we went, but...) It was made for my body - I had to get it! And once for a grey, apron style dress that falls just below my knees and buttons at the waist.

Really, three dresses in a year is pretty unbelievable for the likes of me. I feel pretty proud of myself, to be honest.

I thought that taking a year off from buying clothes might cure me of the habit.

I'm pretty sure it hasn't.

But I do plan to make more of my own clothes. With recycled fabric when possible. I'd like to learn to sew from patterns. I'm starting off with aprons because they don't need to be sized correctly. And I just might hold another clothing exchange in the very near future.

My resolution this year (after years of refusing to make one) is to make eye contact with people I pass on the street. It sounds sort of inconsequential, but I don't think it will be. I haven't left my house yet this year, but I imagine that when I do, I will become a braver, more open, more friendly and confidant person. I want to try to smile - even at those really unfriendly faces I pass. I'm usually an eye-averter. I'm kind of shy. We'll see what comes of it.

Spots

2009-12-30T23:45:00.005-05:00

Poor August got a stomach flu for Christmas this year. And Astrid got chicken pox (which means the other two will probably get them in a couple weeks, too). The giver of this rather unfortunate gift remains a mystery.

I'm glad she got them. She's 8 and a half already, and they say they get worse the older you are. My kids are not vaccinated against them and I'd hate for them to make it to teenage-hood and not have had them yet.

But on the other hand, it is hard to watch her suffer. The poor kid just mopes around all day, without any appetite, trying admirably not to scratch. And at night she lies in bed, dead tired, but kept awake by the itching. Baking soda baths offer some relief, but only while she's in them.

Jason's been down with the stomach bug as of last night, too, leaving Muirgen and I the only ones to escape the holidays unscathed (so far, anyway)!

It was good to be away and visit family, but now that I'm home, I don't feel like ever leaving my house again. At least not for a very long time. Chicken pox are a good excuse to stay in, I think.

Nutcracker SWEET

2009-12-13T17:22:00.005-05:00

I spent the afternoon playing through the Nutcracker Suite at the girls' request. They danced through the whole thing. It was a really great way to spend our Sunday afternoon!

I must say thanks to my parents for insisting I stick with piano lessons even though it was usually a big fight. They always said I'd thank them someday! And thanks to Astrid and Muirgen for giving me a reason to play.

Last year at this time, Jason took the girls to see the Nutcracker performed at the Grand Theatre. They got all dressed up and made a big event of it.

Aren't they lovely?

Butcher

2009-12-12T01:01:00.006-05:00

My new neighbour is a kind-hearted butcher. He was once confronted with a little, wooly lamb, staring at him with big, soft eyes. Knife in hand, he was commanded to slit it's throat. He set down the knife and said "I quit". First day on the job.
I like the way he thinks about animals and food. I like that he talked about it all evening.
I wish all butchers were as kind-hearted. I especially wish that all farmers and raisers of animals were as kind-hearted. I wish that 80% of all beef did not come from three companies. I wish that feed-lots and slaughterhouses did not exist. My butcher neighbour once worked at a slaughterhouse that was considered "small" and they killed about 1,500 animals per day!
If I were a cow, raised to be eaten, I'd want to be free to graze and eat a natural diet (not grain!) and I'd want to be killed at home by the people who'd looked after me.
Astrid told me recently that she thinks there should be a law making it illegal for people to kill animals. Ever. Period. I said that if she really believes that, perhaps it is not such a good idea for her to eat meat. "I know", she sighed, "but it just tastes so good..."

Quote of the Day

2009-12-02T18:00:00.003-05:00

"Do not try to change the world. You will fail.
Try to love the world. Lo, the world is changed, changed forever."

-Sri Chinmoy

In Defense of Hair

2009-12-01T22:42:00.005-05:00

Tonight on 'As it Happens' Barbara Budd and Carol Off aired a phone call to the talk-back line. I turned on the radio in the middle of it, so I have no idea what prompted it, but it was from a woman who felt it was her duty to exhort women everywhere to strongly encourage their partners to get rid of their facial hair if they happen to have it. Facial hair is, after all, a home to every bug and bacteria imaginable (or so she said). This has been proven in science labs (or so she said).

Look out honey, there's some streptococcus on your face!

I have no desire to prove or disprove her assertions, but I can't imagine that what hides in men's beards, sideburns and mustaches can be much worse than what hides in the hair on her head (I'm assuming she doesn't shave IT!)

I started shaving my legs when I was 12. I stopped when I was 17. I picked up a razor once after that to shave my arm pits on my wedding day (at my mom's insistence). I know I'm offending pretty much every reader of my blog when I say this, but your smooth, bald legs and pits look weird to me!

I stopped shaving because I hated the inconvenience of it. My mom reminded me this weekend that I always have taken the path of least resistance. This was certainly true with shaving. It was just easier not to do it. Plus, feminist ideals were starting to brew in me and I felt like if men didn't have to do it, why should I? Besides, all those grunge chicks in Seattle with hairy legs seemed oh-so-cool to my 17 year old self. And it was fun to shock people in math class! So I stopped.

I don't care so much about the shock value anymore, and the days of grunge are long behind us, but I still love the convenience and saved time. And it still bugs me that some things are OK for a man, but not for a woman. It bugs me that women and girls are told every day of their lives that their bodies are not good enough just as they are. I like my hairy body. I'm pretty sure that hair grows there not just so I can remove it again. Which ever way you believe we got here, God put it there for a reason, or we evolved to grow it for a reason. And anyways, it's pretty .

I like facial hair on men, too. Whatever may be living in there is not about to kill you, I am certain of that! So, to balance out the words of the hair-hater on the CBC, I exhort women everywhere to strongly encourage their partners to grow a beard!

I'd encourage you all to stop shaving, too, ladies, but I know you won't! So shave away. Just don't make ME do it! And please forgive me if this post or my body hair offends you in any way! (But just be careful - there might be some staphylococcus lurking in my armpits... Uh-oh! There it is... right there in the bottom right-hand corner of the picture... EEEKK!)

Meow

2009-11-16T18:05:00.003-05:00

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

Family

2009-11-11T22:42:00.004-05:00

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

2009-11-06T23:32:00.003-05:00

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

2009-11-02T23:03:00.005-05:00

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

2009-10-26T14:20:00.004-04:00

"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

2009-10-26T00:18:00.003-04:00

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!

2009-10-20T15:55:00.006-04:00

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

2009-10-16T00:19:00.004-04:00

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!

"MO-OM!"

2009-10-14T23:30:00.005-04:00

I think I want my kids to skip teenage-hood altogether. Just go straight to being adults.

Astrid is already embarrassed by things I do in public.

I never thought I'd be the type of mother whose kid would be embarrassed of her. I suppose none of us do.

But for pete's sake! I'm not going to stop running, skipping or doing cartwheels when I feel like it. I don't care who sees me.
I hope Astrid finds it in her to forgive me and can live with having a mom who does such embarrassing things.

Diva

2009-10-13T12:11:00.004-04:00

My cycle was much shorter than usual this month and I was caught away from home, unprepared.

Was I ever glad to get home to my Diva Cup last night!

Seriously, ladies, if you don't already have one, what are you waiting for?

Check it out!

2009-10-06T23:52:00.002-04:00

I changed stuff!

Resistant to change though I am, every so often I'm up for it (even if it's only in cyber space).

Present

2009-10-03T11:53:00.002-04:00

I often look at the lives of my friends and admire the paths they take. But, truth be told, I do not pine for anyone else's life. All that I want is to be fully present in my own life. There is so much here for me and I want to always notice the richness. To take nothing for granted.

My Parents Moved

2009-09-27T15:58:00.005-04:00

I thought it would be weird to go home, but not really home.
But it was lovely.

I no longer had the ghosts of my childhood, teenage selves trying to cling to me.
They've been left in Kitchener to haunt someone else.
I could just be who I am - 31 years old - a daughter, but not a child, although I swung up into the tree branches at the park and made it all the way across the monkey bars for the first time in years.

The memories tied up in the old house will always be part of me. I can bring them along.
I don't need to go to a certain place to access them.

(Although I'm still a little sad that my poetry and drawings were painted over.)

The new house will become a place with a wonderful spirit composed of the essence of family, of generations living and being together. And I like the feel of the small town better than that of suburbia.

I look forward to many happy times in that huge, common basement under the homes of my parents and grandparents.

I admire my parents for taking such a huge leap in order to better serve those they care about.
May God bless them and their new home. May it be a place full of love, care, peace, shelter, refuge. May it be a place where lives become more deeply entwined, where connections are strengthened, where needs are met and joy is found.

12 Years!

2009-09-21T23:13:00.003-04:00

Earlier this month, Jason and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. As I reflect on twelve years of marriage, my dominant feeling is one of gratitude.

I am grateful that Jason and I met when we did and have already had so many years and experiences together compared to many people our age.
I am grateful for friends who have stuck by us through rough times, especially the woman who counseled us through our very darkest moments as a couple. Thank you, Shari!
I am grateful to Jason for standing by me through thick and thin, for making me feel assured that he will continue to do so for the rest of our days.
I am grateful to God for sustaining us when it felt like it was against all odds, as well as during the good times and the hum drum times.
I am grateful for the dynamic our relationship has reached at this point in time. It is good!
I am grateful that Jason is who he is and that he is willing to share himself with me.

I wrote the following poem a while ago and have posted it here before, but I want to post it again because I still feel like it just so accurately sums up our relationship for me.

I want to be planted firmly in place on this here planet.
You long to be expansive and free.

I long for stability.
You, for change.

I write words about digging in gardens.
You write about planets and outer space.

In your most exhilarating dreams, you fly.
In mine, I run,
feeling my connection with the earth over and over
as my feet pound the ground
one after the other.

You want to conquer the world
I want to become one with it.

You make music - vibrations of sound drifting
up through the atmosphere.
I plant vegetables and pick clay from beneath my fingernails.

You like to be clean.
I like getting dirty.

You hope for something bigger, something more.
All I need I have here now.

You live in your head.
I, in my heart.

You want to rise.
I, to sink.

You are the air.
I am the earth.

You cover me,
surround, invigorate, refresh, inspire me.
I nourish you, nurture you, ground you,
give you a firm place to stand.

When I breath you in, I find what sustains me.
When you reach deep down into me, your hands come up full.

Happy twelve years, Jase! I love you!

Stars and Magic

2009-09-19T22:08:00.005-04:00

Tonight, at Lake Ontario Park, we took in a lecture about sun spots and then did some star gazing through different sorts of telescopes (I wish my dad could have been there).

It was lovely: a pic-nick supper, the sun set over lake Ontario, the tiny waves lapping the beach, the scent of apples ripe on a tree near the water's edge in the chilly air. A magical evening.

But not so magical for Muirgen as it might have been.

A year ago, or so, you see, we were at the same park and when Jason took Muirgen to the bathroom, he did some sort of trick to make her think the taps turned on at the utterance of the word "boop". She was very excited to be going back to the place with the "boop sinks" and insisted on visiting the bathroom with Jason as soon as we got there. They emerged minutes later with Muirgen in tears. Between heart-wrenching sobs she explained that she had figured out the trick. She so wished that the magic had been real. It took her quite some time and copious amounts of tears to get over this discovery.

Am I ever glad we never told her Santa was real!

Anxiety Attack

2009-09-16T22:40:00.003-04:00

In the dark of my room when I can't sleep, a nameless fear sneaks in and grabs hold of me.
I ask God to take it from me, but I lie awake in it's clutches for nearly two hours.
Stomach churning, heart pounding, mind racing with endless, horrifying possibilities.

And then, finally, sleep steals back into the bed and pushes fear out of the way, so slowly, so gently, I don't even notice the hold of one being pried away and replaced by the hands of the other.
And then God comes and speaks to me in my dreams and I awake in the dim, grey light. Tired, but grateful.

Muirgen's Big Day

2009-08-31T19:17:00.005-04:00

Yes! No training wheels!

And here she is in her new glasses.
I do feel badly for her older sister though, who still has not got the knack of biking on two wheels. Tears, shouting and vows of never EVER getting on a bike again were her response to Muirgen's success.

Give Peace a Chance

2009-08-25T21:20:00.003-04:00

I'm currently mid-way through a book called 'The Natural Family: a manifesto'. I thought it was going to be about people who put their kids in cloth diapers and have home births and eat organic food.

It's not.

It's about the place of family in society and argues that the family should be the basic unit upon which society is built. The authors feel that true joy and freedom can be found only in the context of family and that if any other institution (the individual, the church, the corporation, the state, etc.) is the foundational institution in a society, that society will ultimately break down.

I don't know how I feel about it, exactly, but it has certainly given me much to think about.

One thing that I read this evening really stood out to me and has been truly bothering me. It went, more or less, like this:

Men's bodies are better equipped than women's for engaging in violence and for defending against it. Since no society can survive without either the use of violence or the threat of it, true equality between the sexes can never be achieved.

This is troubling on many levels. But what bothers me the most is the idea that society cannot survive without violence. How can this be? Am I being completely idealistic to believe that we CAN live peacefully together? I know that history does not help me prove it, but can it really be true that society would not survive if we lived in peace? To say we're capable of peace might be a bit of a stretch, I admit, given our track record, but to say that we would not survive should we attain it... well... it seems to imply that we are inherently violent, and not only that, but that we actually need violence to function with others. I don't believe this is true. Society, it seems to me, would be strengthened if we could find a way to live in peace. If we could do away with violence, both in ourselves and corporately (as in war), would it not raise the level of trust, of communion and fellowship, of benevolent feelings which lead to loving actions, in our society, making it stronger, more stable?

Idealistic or not, I don't believe that violence is necessary, or even inevitable in human society. I wish more people shared my belief.

Recap (part 2)

2009-08-15T01:15:00.007-04:00

From Ille d'Orleans we travelled to Mactaquac provincial park in New Brunswick for 2 nights. It was the perfect mix of nature and camping luxury (flush toilets, showers, a playground, a rec hall).

Our next stop was in Shediac, NB, where we met up with the Gertrudes. We ate Lobster at Greg's family cottage (a beautiful, rustic place built in the '20's right on the ocean), waded with the jelly fish and camped in a trailer park (ah well - we didn't have to pay for it!).I do not understand the trailer park mentality.

The Gertrudes played at Sappyfest in Sackville, NB and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the lead singer from The Burning Hell play break-up songs with Kim Barlow. Another highlight of the festival was that the amazing band Rock Plaza Central invited Jason and Josh to play with them! The other Gertrudes were suitably jealous. And of course, the Gertrudes themselves put on a great show, despite showing up at the venue just moments before their set was about to begin.

We spent a day on PEI visiting Green Gables, listening to Anne of Green Gables on CD while driving and having mussels and lobster at a little sea side restaurant while watching the sun set out over the red dunes.It was beautiful! The island was overly touristy (at least the parts we saw, mostly around Cavendish) but beautiful none the less.

We took another day to drive Jason to Halifax for a show at a little pub there and stopped at Peggy's cove on the way.What an amazing landscape! The kids and I made it back to Shediac in good time (we had to make it before 11pm in order to not be locked out of the trailer park), but I took the wrong turn off our exit and ended up back on the highway. New Brunswick is so sparsely populated, that it took me 45 minutes to get turned around again due to lack of another exit and we missed the 11 o'clock deadline by 15 minutes. I had to park the car outside the gates, wake the poor sleeping kids and traipse them through the campground crying and whining about how tired they were.

On the way home we decided we were sick of camping, so we cancelled our last campgound and got a B&B in Edmunston, NB. It made me feel like I want to turn our house into a B&B in the future when the kids are a bit older.

Our last night was spent in Montreal at a super-great hostel/hotel called Pensione Popolo.It's above a nightclub (Casa del Popolo) and the price of a room (dirt cheap, by the way) includes passes to whatever show is playing the night you stay there. We had fun exploring Montreal and eating at some of the many great restaurants there. We found a vegan place that had the most amazing dragon sauced veggies I've ever tasted.

We left Jason in Wakefield Quebec for one last show with the Gertrudes and made it home just a bit past bedtime. August, who'd been asking for the last few days of the trip, "Going at home now?" was so excited to back. When he stepped into his bedroom, he stopped and said, with extreme awe in his voice, "My bed!!"

All in all, it was a good trip. The kids did quite well with all the driving, we stayed dry in our tent despite a lot of rain, and we saw lots of beautiful sights, hung out with beautiful people.

On Monday night of this week, I went to see Tori Amos in Toronto with our housemate, Melodie and her friend, Jessie. Tori is quite the performer! We hung around at the stage door after the show to see her up close. She looked a lot older than I'd expected. We picked up a hitch hiker in Kingston and took him to Toronto. Melodie was the only one who could really converse with him as he was from France and had very limited English skills.

During this last month, I rekindled my love of coffee (thanks to Jason and his super skills with the french press - even out in the wilds of camp gounds!) and reaffirmed for myself that I LOVE live music. It excites me and energizes me. It makes me feel refreshed and vibrant. I need to find a way to take it in more often.

In 2 days, the kids and I will be heading up to my grandparents' cottage for a week with my sister Jill, and friend Jordin and her kids.

Fun, busy times!

Recap (part 1)

2009-08-14T23:27:00.006-04:00

It's been a full month or so!

The girls turned six and eight in July. Muirgen wanted to have friends over to decorate gingerbread houses.It was a bit labour intensive to make all the houses, but the actual event was wildly successful. I'd do it again in a heart beat.

Astrid wanted to make her own cake this year, so the day before her birthday I turned the kitchen over to her, Muirgen, and two of their friends. Astrid took complete control and expertly directed everyone in the making of a recipe which she herself created. Thankfully her friends are pretty laid back and didn't mind being ordered around! It took them quite a while to finish the cake, but the results were delicious!

Amidst birthdays, visitors and vacations, we managed to find time to go raspberry pickingand make up a batch of jam and do some bug watching.This guy landed on our laundry and fascinated the kids for quite some time before flying away.

At the end of July, we packed up our car and headed east. We spent two nights on Ille d'Orleans, where I had the opportunity to practice my very rusty French.The island was beautiful and made me pine for a life that consisted of nothing more than gardens, gardens, gardens galore.

Oh, Canada!

2009-07-02T23:04:00.006-04:00

On the far side of the semi-detached house next to us live a bunch of rowdy high school students. They moved there this spring. They party. They get drunk. They trespass. They hide their booze in the kids' fort behind the garage when the cops come (since they're underage). They're loud. They annoy neighbours far and wide.

We, the neighbours, have called the cops (numerous times), have gone over and given lectures, have had hushed conversations amongst ourselves about the various ways in which these kids have disrupted the peace of the street.

I suppose it's good that they know we don't appreciate their shenanigans.

But Tim had a better idea.

We decided to throw a neighbourhood party for Canada Day and Tim invited the ska band the high school students belong to to play at the party.It was a blast! Everyone smiled. Everyone danced. As the evening wrapped up, a couple of the teenagers jammed with some of the thirty and forty year olds.
Then we went to see the fireworks and felt much better knowing that we can all get along with our annoying neighbours.

Sing, Sing, Sing

2009-06-30T22:05:00.004-04:00

This weekend I had the privilege of camping with a bunch of phenomenal musicians and thoroughly enjoyed sitting around the campfire with them singing into the night and joining in now and then on the harmonica. Guitar, accordion, violin, banjo and voices, blended together and drifted off through the trees and over the lake until the rain forced us to take cover.

I'm not much of a musician, but I love music - listening to it and making it (in my own haphazard way). When I'm with other people and we're making music or singing along with a live band or lazing about on a grassy hill at a festival, I look around at all those different people and can suddenly see our shared humanity so clearly, how much we are really all the same. Music draws us together, helps us find connection, speaks to our spirits. I'm not surprised it's so universally used in worship.

I am eternally grateful that I married a musician rather than an athlete! I love living a life steeped in music. Cousins, you may tease me all you want, but I'll take a music festival or a live band in a dark bar over a hockey arena or baseball diamond ANY day!

Live and Learn

2009-06-13T11:18:00.006-04:00

John Holt is one of my favourite writers on the topic of education. I have recently read through just about all of his books (some for the second or third time) and have loved seeing the progression in his thinking from a teacher who wants to encourage other teachers to do things a little differently, to a teacher who advocates major school reforms, to the father of the "unschooling" movement.

In the book "Instead of Education", Holt says that if children can spend a couple hours a day with adults they like, who are interested in the world and like to talk about it, they will learn more in those couple hours than they would in a whole week at school. I'm inclined to agree with him.

As I was looking around at the artifacts at the archeological center here in Kingston last week, I realized that I did not actually know who the Loyalists were or what they were loyal to. I MUST have been taught that in school at some point. It obviously didn't stick. Nor did 90% of the rest of what I "learned". Most of what I remember from school was said to me by two wonderful women, both of whom I was fortunate enough to have as English teachers. I loved the classes they taught, but much of what I can remember them saying was said outside of those classes and had to do with their views and ideas about many different things, not often related to the school subject of "English".

I am very thankful for the wonderful adults in my childrens' lives who like to spend time with them. I know they learn from these people every day just by interacting with them and sharing life. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, housemates, neighbours... you all impart more than I think you realize just by spending time with my children. You play an important role in their education.

Happy Birthday

2009-06-01T15:40:00.006-04:00

My baby turned two last month. I made him a lovely spring flower crown, as per our family tradition, which he absolutely refused to let anywhere near his head. So I photographed it sitting on the table instead.This is the first time a flower crown has not had its picture taken on the birthday head.

Sweet Deliverance

2009-05-27T23:30:00.004-04:00

Today as I was driving the kids to swimming lessons and listening to Hot Hot Heat, two activities not seemingly conducive to such a feeling, I was overwhelmed with an urge to give birth. It was so strong that my whole body tingled.

Now I'm not saying that I want more kids (although I wouldn't mind) but just that I really love giving birth. Especially two years after last having done it.

The word "delivery" is a good one, I think. Quite suddenly you are delivered of all this pain and intensity. You are delivered back into the world of other people. And an amazing, tiny creature is delivered into your hands.

I cannot put into words the wonder, the triumph, the power of giving birth. The longing for it all to end, the sweat, the tears, the physical exertion, the emotional toll. The need to surrender control, to give yourself over to forces so huge you think they will overtake you. The loss of inhibition. The tunnel vision which allows you to think of nothing else. The union with your body, with nature, with God. It's all over in one climactic moment of release as your body is emptied and, deflated, you cradle in your arms a slimy, wriggling, bluish ball of flesh with flailing limbs and wailing lips. And then you feel yourself filling up. With the knowledge that it was all worth it. With immense love. With joy that your body can't contain. And it all floods over in tears. And you feel the hand of God, Creator, heavily upon you. And you rejoice in the fact that you are a woman.

I try to stop myself from talking about birth too much. I feel like most people don't want to hear about it (all the time). And I know that many women have had horrible experiences giving birth. So if you've ever heard me get going on the topic (which, if you've spent any length of time with me, you surely have) know that I probably felt like saying more than I did. But sometimes, I just have to let myself express how amazing it is to me.

I feel deep grief and, many times, anger that so many women have birth experiences that leave them feeling powerless, hurt or even just indifferent, glad it's over with. That some women can't have a birth experience at all for reasons beyond their control. I feel like it is the birthright of women, ALL women, to know the glory of this amazing feat their body is capable of. To experience it fully and completely and joyously. If I could give one gift to all womankind, that would be it.

Just the Essentials

2009-05-14T09:15:00.005-04:00

My mom gave Muirgen one of her old purses last weekend and she has been carrying it around ever since. This morning she emptied it's contents onto my desk. There was:

-a chunk of brick
-1/4 of a foil pie plate
-a pencil
-a lump of charcoal
-1/2 a walnut shell
-an old drain plug on a chain

Tribute to S&R (to whom I sadly bid good-bye)

2009-05-13T22:41:00.006-04:00

Step inside the rickety old machine that will lift you up, make you rise, then plunge you down again.

Be greeted by the guy in the navy blue blazer standing on his little rubber mat with the round holes punched through it at evenly spaced intervals.
Wonder how it could possibly make much difference to stand on the tiled floor or the rubber mat when all one has to do is stand, stand, stand for hours on end and push buttons now and then and gaze around and nod and speak in one or two word sentences with the option to smile.
Marvel at his turtleneck and his hair - a thing of wonder to be sure - sleek and grey, nearly neck length, cascading down in loose ringlets that are somehow horizontal.

Shift your eyes around.
Avoid his.

Notice the adverts on the walls.
Check for models in them you happen to know. You once worked with someone who posed here after all.
Scan down the brightly coloured t-shirts, the skirts, the pants, the prices in big, red print.
Don't really take it in.
Just pretend to be interested in order to avoid conversation.

Run you hand, slowly, behind your back, up and down the faux-wood panel.
Feel it's smooth coolness.
Imagine all the other fingers it has felt over the last fifty years: hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions of prints, germs, smudges, essences left there to be absorbed through your skin as your pulse throbs beneath it.
Ask yourself what will be left of all those fragments of people once the sales are over, the doors close and the lights go out.

Try to arrange in your head a plan that enables you to be on the last ride this machine takes.
Try to imagine it's future.

Season of Gratitude

2009-05-02T22:33:00.004-04:00

Spring is the season of gratitude for me. It's when I can think of a million things that I love and am thankful for every single day.

*I love walking home at midnight on a warm evening, thunder rumbling and lightening flashing in the distance.

*I love listening to Muirgen, my little songbird, who sings non-stop and plays piano sixteen times per day (or so she told me, and she's probably not far off!)

*I love that Astrid has come out of her February/March grumpiness and is smiling, laughing and joking around again.

*I love lying on the ground in cemeteries watching the exquisite lines of tree branches, not yet covered in leaves, against the blue sky.

*I love the fort that the kids built behind the garage and that they planted potatoes in it.

*I love daffodils and hyacinths and tulips and rhubarb and chives and moss between field stones.

*I love that there really is a chicken mummifying on top of the fridge.

*I love that Muirgen is excited to ride her bike without training wheels and that Astrid is excited about trying to swim without a life jacket and that August is excited just to be outside every minute that he possibly can be, cast or not.

*I love that August is putting words into little sentences more and more each day.

*I love hollow, old trees that the kids can use as little houses to play in.

*I love dumpster diving and how it has led to some much needed "new" furniture (and many other interesting things) around here. It seems like lately, stating a need (or want) has led to it being met without having to spend a cent.

*I love that we're going to split the cost with our next door neighbours of a row of fruit trees between our properties rather than a fence.

*I love Spring - season of re-awakening, season of life, of growth, of newness, of adventure.

Awake my soul and sing of all that is good and right and beautiful in this world.

Mere Shadows

2009-04-26T22:15:00.005-04:00

Stuff I've read lately
(1 Chronicles 29:1-15
Mark 8:34-37
the book of Job)
has got me thinking (and, therefor, writing).

My life - a mere shadow, only a shadow,
The dark space that shifts and changes, grows and shrinks
As the source of light moves around the objects that give it it's shape and definition.

All belongs to God - great cosmic experimenteur -
Doling out as he sees fit - a little, a lot, for richer, for poorer
Making wagers with our lives, placing bets, taking dares
Taking.

Why not cling tightly?
To family, to home, to things
To what gives my life it's shape and definition?

My life - a mere shadow,
The dark, empty space on the other side of the things, the people, the experiences, the abilities in it.
I cling because without them, what would I be?
What would fill that awful void if the divine flashlight orbiting in God's awesome hand
had nothing to block it's penetrating beam?