Luckybeans

Sometimes

Sometimes, you know, I struggle with headaches. Migraine-type affairs, with headrushes and blurred vision. But usually I can manage them with plenty of rest and fluids and ibuprofen. Anyway, today was one of those days. So I went back to bed for a bit. And then I tried to mow the back lawn, but the mower broke halfway through. I came in and took some more ibuprofen and put together a power poitn presentation on a linguistics paper from last term which I am meant to present next week.

And then I had had enough.

So.

I went to the hill with my camera and my water bottle, and I decided to walk very slowly and breathe very deeply and just watch and listen.

There was only one other car when I arrived, a very enthusiastic birder. He went one way, so I went the other.

I stopped often. I walked as quietly as I could. 

Butterflies settled to sip from the gravel around my feet.

Bumblebees tumbled in and out of the tiny trumpets sweet with nectar.

Flowers the size of ladybird heads blossomed into tiny pink stars.

The lupine was blooming.

The meadowfoam smelled sweet, blown up across warm grass between old oaks.

Everything was humming, buzzing, twittering, calling, all loud and alive. Crickets, grasshoppers, bees, flies, dragonflies, meadowlarks, robins, sparrows-- more birds than I could hope to identify. As I walked into the maple forest, I heard a nest of woodpecker babies incessently calling. It took me a long time to figure out what the noise was.

At first I thought it was an alarm call or someone telling me just what they thought of me. But eventually, I traced the sound to hole far up in a wild cherry tree, where a mama came and went every five minutes or so.

I always find it amazing how much there is to find when I slow down and take the time just to settle in and be in a place.

Suspended caterpillars floating through the air.

Illumined leaves.

Oak galls laced in spider's silk.

And little birds peeping out here

and there

and everywhere

and scolding (had he followed me from home just to scold me so?)

and warbling such sweet songs I thought there could be nothing better.

I even saw this fine fellow sitting and watching me on his mossy trunk. It was not a matter of being fast enough to get a picture after all.

It was funny, you know, walking along. There are certain bends and twists that remind me so of Michiru. My heart leaps. I found myslef weighing the pros and cons of walking in the African bush and an Oregon trail. It is true that I do not keep an eye out for hyenas, snakes or baboon troupes here. I do however, keep a sharp eye on all of that poison oak and stinging nettle. And at the end of the day, I can honestly say I have never suffered at the hands (or what-have-you) af the African wildlife, but I currently have a bottle of calydryl on my bedside table due to an unfortunate run-in with poison oak (I've no idea when, where or how) last weekend. 

The pretty flowers make up for it, of course, but I do not dare to stray from the path here.

Having this fellow waiting to bid me adieu by the car never hurts, either.

I must also confess to a strange occurance. As I was leaving, half a dozen cars arrived. Each person emerged carrying a large camera (some with tripods) and asked me if I had seen the Western Tanagers. Had I managed a photo? I must have been a bit slow in responding, baffled as I was. Eventually I recalled that yes, I had seen them, and yes I had gotten a photo as well (it's the second bird, if you're interested).

It did make me unspeakably grateful to have arrived that much earlier and to have seen so very much more besides.

My headache never did beat a full retreat, but somehow it hasn't mattered all that much.

 

 

The Problem with Reading Poetry

Most people, most days, can certainly appreciate beauty in their lives. It is hard, for example, to be entirely unmoved by a riot of rain-spattered rhododendorons reaching some three meters into the air over one's head.

But when I spend too much time digesting poetry, I begin to become affected. I stop to note the drops on the ends of fir needles, and then the ombre effect of the new growth layered against the old. 

I wander through the ruins of the barn and abandoned house next door, quite heedless of the fact that I am soaking the bottoms of my trousers, because I suddenly observe that the piles of rust and shattered wood and peeling paint are most beautiful and intriguing after all.

The pocket of my coat acquired a hole, and two pennies slipped down into the lining, clinking copper faces softly together in the hem as I walked. "Ah," I thought. "There must be poetry in this."

I fear I shall never get anything done again.

How to Spend a Saturday Night

Invite grandma to spend it with you. Pick her lots of flowers. She will even mow the lawn for you, especially if you feed her frittata and artichokes fresh from the garden.

Obtain the first Harry Potter movie from the library. Make sure everyone is suitably excited and attired.

Provide authentic edibles.

Relax and enjoy (even if you don't make it past the first hour and a hlaf as the rest is full of scary bits).

 

What We Did

Which, as you no doubt know by now, could be the title of any one of the posts here. 

Friday saw us eating watermelon on the back porch, Ana in her new "Star Wars characters crossing Abbey Road" tshirt, bought with her own pocket money.

I also stayed up late finishing a novel that I read purely for pleasure. It felt terribly decadent.

Saturday morning saw the usual rounds: chores (Asher filled the kitchen with Bon Ami to a depth of 1cm. I am still wiping it off of every surface), children's classes, farmer's market, and me to the bakery for a coffee, rice pudding and lab report. The rice pudding was delictible; the lab report not nearly so palatable.

Asher spent part of the afternoon playing with his friend, and then I rounded up all of the children and convinced them that we must Get Out as it was the last rain-free day in the foreseeable forecast. 

Before we even left the parking area, Bella had us busy gathering wild chamomile.

Am I the only one who finds old cemetaries peaceful and soothing? Surely not. We like to pause quietly here for a few minutes, admiring the old stones and fences, wondering who has come to rest here.

As we headed into the forested bit, the birds were positively raucous! I did wish I could have recorded the constant singing surrounding us. The cow parsley was in full strength, towering over us. I also found licorice-root fern to add to our chamomile for tea.

The stream was rushing and cold and clear. I was astonished to find we were the only ones there. The children paddled and waded and splooshed rocks. I only had to issue one reminder for them to be kind to one another, and they were off and so very busy and contented.

We stopped for snack and found mint to add to our tea as well.

 

The walk back through the forest was just as lovely as the way in. Chipmunks kept darting back and forth across the path, but I am never fast enough to catch them in a photo. I spied thimbleberry bushes in full flower that we will have to visit again, a farm building peeking through, dappled light through maple canopy and a boy flitting between mossy tree trunks.

We had to stop on the way home to pick some rose petals (Ana's insistance).

There is much more to share, but I will do that when I have a bit more time again. I am grateful we had such a lovely afternoon yesterday-- it is pouring rain now.

Some of you may have noticed that I am now on Instagram. I tend to use it out on weekends, and am keeping it private for now. I do post my favourites here, though!

 

Important Things

Somewhat random, albeit. 

The girls have a new AP Environmental Science book. They are thrilled. They came home and spent two hours doing exercises from it the first day. Would that i had their enthusiasm for my text books.

We discovered Netflix has Tintin cartoons on instant play, which grants a much-needed reprieve from Sgt Frog.

The barn is down next door, but the garden trellises are up.

And perhaps most importantly of all, Asher had his spring music performance at school. He was the wolf in Peter and the Wolf!

He got to play the much-coveted mini-bongos which are both everyone's favourite and had the trickiest rhythms to follow. He did an excellent job. He has always had a deep sense of rhythm, and I think his years of listening to African drums (sometimes all. night. long. ahem) served him well. I was very proud, and so was he. It was great fun watching him play, as he was so intensely focused. He did not look at me or smile once, intently watching the teacher for cues or his drums. With his spiky hair, he looked a bit intimidating, really (that is especially funny in light of what we did on our way home-- hold on a minute).

First, we inspected the stream that runs past the school. They do a lot of habitat restoration work here in conjunction with OSU, and consistantly find salmon fry in it. This year they tested the cleanliness and found it extremely clean-- safe to drink even! This is exciting as we are in an agricultural area with many potential non-point pollution sources). 

Then we stopped to investigate a spring near the road. Such sweet water! We want to come back with bottles to collect some.

And to take photos of the beautiful wild irises.

And to run in this field of meadow foam, in the golden haze of light heavy with the hum of bees. The flowers smell light and fragrant, and oh! it is magical. He does not appear quite so intimidating in this context, does he? Incredibly silly, yes, the both of them.

Also, the poppies are blooming.

And the Japanese maple has leafed out, forming the perfect cavern to tuck yourself into with a book and not mention just where you have gone (especially when it is creeping close to bedtime, you are at an exciting bit, and it is still both warm and light out).

 

 

Happy Day

I really must stop waking up at 5:30 on the few mornings when I can sleep in. I would blame the sunshine, but I love it so, I cannot bear to balme it for anything.

Asher popped up not too long afterwards and very sweetly asked if he could make me toast. 

We spent today visiting my mum and dad. We do not generally celebrate Mother's day, but this year was a bit different. My mother is often difficult to get presents for (well, that may not be true-- I am generally very bad at finding gifts for people!), but this year I found the perfect thing: a set of Jane Austen Penguin Classics. So of course we had to celebrate.

We paddled in fountains and found newts.

Climbed the old tree.

Wandered through flowers.

Tried to remember all fifty states,

Found my old "Poppet and Dear One" book I made ten years ago.

Had a picnic.

Read inside and outside (until he finished "The Sorcerer's Stone").

Remembered books that made us cry.

Wandered home again...

... and stopped to admire the slowly sinking, golden glowing sun, before we made our way to our beds, and are now doing our best to get to sleep in a warm, not so very dark, night.

 

 

We have been eating. In the beginning of the week, things like roast chicken with asparagus and root vegetables. In the middle of the week, salads using greens from the garden (Asher hums while he eats his). Towards the end of the week, we end up with what I call "Mother Hubbard" dinners. I scour the pnatry and garden and back of the fridge, and then make something of it. Yesterday yielded half a row of beet greens, an onion, a small bunch of mint, two shrivelled mangoes, and half a jar of yogurt. So we had beet green and onion pakoras with mango/mint lassis and Asher told me I should open a restaurant when I finish school. 

Aside from eating, we have experimented with steam and microwaved a bar of ivory soap in the microwave so that it expanded into a cloud of soap flakes which were good for another hour's worth of entertainment. Especially when accompanied by comprehensively dreadful "blues" singing.

Some have been to children's classes.

Read lots of Harry Potter. And had a hair cut. 

And of course, played guitar (she, for the record, has forgiven a lifetime of having a camera in her face for this photo).

And done laundry.

But mostly, every free minute has found us outside in the garden. We wonder at how every colombine is so different, at the delicate saxifrage and the first roses and the promise of blueberries and lupines. The vast majority of time and energy is focused on the vegetables, though. We got almost all of our summer seeds and starts in this week: tomatoes, peppers, squashes, beans, cucumbers, melons, carrots, potatoes, onions... It is extensive and exhausting, and enormously satisfying. I am keeping track of the vegetable garden on this Pinterest board, if you are truly interested.

 

Little Bits

It was so warm and lovely today that I made sun tea (with our own mint!).

I am also very excited (perhaps overly so) by the growth in our "woodland bed." When we moved in, there was nothing growing here except for the two trees. This spring it is truly beginning to come alive. The Solomon's seal are my favourite, although really, it is hard to say that when gazing at something else. Today I learned that they have the most delicate, beautiful scent and look particularly interesting from underneath. 'Tis true.

We are heartbroken that the beautiful barn next door is coming down. Sigh.

Ana is learning new songs every time I turn around, it seems. She earned her elbow badge after a run in with a rock wall. It won. But so did she-- she started to have a panic attack, but Bella was right there with her and they got through it just fine. My wonderful girls.

And Asher is officially on his way to Hogwarts, making Uncle Lukas proud. I am going to restrict which books he is allowed to read, however. One and "Quidditch Through the Ages" as well as "Fantastic Beasts" will have to do for now. I wonder how long it will take before he begins requesting butterbeer and sausages? The girls always did once they got into Potter land. 

 

The Rest of the Week in High and Low Lights

Wednesday afternoon, poor Ana had a panic attack at school. She has never had one before, and it was not dealt with very well. The staff with her were lovely, but they took her word that she was ok, and put her on the bus home. She wasn't ok, and when I finally managed to get to her, she was in a lot of distress. But I know how to handle stress. Tea! Well yes, breathing properly, but tea does seem to fix most things. We were also pleased to find spectacular post from daddy (maps and stories and letters) and a beautiful Ridvan gift. The panic attack was alarming, but seemed to be in response to physical stress and pain,and we now know how to deal with it and what to expect next time. Still, I kept her home with me Thursday to make sure.

Friday afternoon and all day Saturday were heavy-duty gardening days. Things are growing so swiftly: the lily of the valley and tiny star flowers are blooming in the woodland bed, the artichokes are appearing, the kale and winter carrots and beets all had to be pulled out.

Early Saturday morning, the garden club had their yearly sale. For $24, I bought 3 ferns, 3 solomon's seal, 3 columbine, 2 red currants, a violet and a snowball bush. Thank heavens Mum came down shortly! We got it all planted (except for the snowball bush), the vegetable beds uncovered (except for the one corner reserved for the tadpoles), new carrots and beets sown, two sinks full of kale to deal with, two hanging baskets up, the catmint in, and the thyme redistributed between the freshly weeded flagstones. The children helped a lot, too. Especially Asher! Although he kept disappearing to lie down on the warm gravel between the beds.

We got to eat some of the fruits (vegetables) of our labour, too, which is always good.

Saturday evening we went to a friend's concert of Leonard Bernstein music (he is part of the master chorus). It was great fun, with wonderful music! The children were completely engrossed, and Asher got to inspect the kettle drums during intermission. Ana had to come home and pratice her guitar despite it being past bedtime.

Today we spent a slower morning folding laundry and playing tiddly-winks. Tacos for lunch. Then Mum had to head home to visit Dad and the children and I went to Philomath for Ruhi Book 5. We stopped on our way to pick up things for a picnic dinner afterwards, though. I love that my children are adventerous eaters: baguette, sheep's milk cheese, watercress, tangerines, ginger beer, sweet potato crisps and almond pastries. Yes please.

We stopped by the wetlands on the way home. What a glorious place! 

The children dabbled and explored and discovered and ran back and forth to their hearts' content. The sun was warm and the birds were singing continuously. Especially the redwinged blackbirds.

We had our picnic supper closer to home. The park was an absolute sea of daisies. Bella showed Asher how to make a chain. She is a bit of a funny one, that Bella.

 

A Day in the Life: Tuesday

Up at 6 for a last review of those verbs and a start on packing lunches. Breakfast, prayers, here we go...

8:00 Past the sweet yellow cottage on the way to school, and I face the exam: no problems. I breathe a sigh of relief. I studied exactly what I needed to. I finish early, which is good, as it gives me few minutes to grab a chai latte and pack of scantrons for my next exam: Biology. Also, enough time to notice the carpet of cherry blossoms on the way. I did not study very much for this one. But I think I did just fine anyway. Then time to create kinship charts (ohmygoodnesstheyarehard!) with write up for anthropology, a meeting with a Spanish tutor (required every two weeks for conversation practice) and a meeting with a professor. I missed my pilates class, which makes me sad. But I spotted this lovely dogwood (Ute would say "It is just showing off!"). 

It was a calmer, though still busy, afternoon. We had yogurt and strawberries for snack, and the children read or did homework (this is actually fairly rare) or practised guitar in the park. I still had half of a novel and two journal articles to read. Toasted cheese and tomato soup for supper-- I'm not up for much cooking on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Asher finished chapter fifteen. And I am exhausted, although I know tomorrow I will be in class from 8-4 again with no breaks, and a Holy Day observance at 6:30. Sometimes I wonder what I do all day, and why i am so tired by Thursday afternoon. I guess this is why! 

It has been such an interesting process, recording our days for a week. I am glad to have done it, and surprised by how difficult it has been to keep track of things. I know for everything I remember, there are a half dozen things I forget. Also, it was incredibly time consuming. In any case, I enjoyed this, and would like to do it again. Perhaps at other times of the year, and certainly when Simon is around. I was dismayed to realize that it is still a full month before he comes home! Ah well. Our life goes on, nonetheless, and now some of you may even be able to guess what we are up to, at any given time on any given day.