Luckybeans

The Third Week

Three weeks ago, my man and my boy disappeared into the garage for an evening of hammering and banging and gluing. They brought home a fence post from Restore, some dowelling and a secret bag from Bimart. Then they drilled a hole in the back deck, and-- voila! A bird feeding station, complete with platfrom seed feeder, suet cage and sunflower feeder (thank you Lukas and April). 

"Do you think the birds will come?," Simon asked (especially after all that snow and stormy rain).

"Give them about three weeks," I replied.

So. So. What began as a few juncos and a cheeky scrub jay has burst into a flurry of winged activity. Chickadees, doves, flickers, nuthatches, a plethora of unidentified LBNs (little brown numbers), and a few unidentified yellows, too. We were worried at first that the scrub jays, house sparrows and starlings would laud it over all the others, but they (along with the robins) have stayed primarily on the lawn and given the little birds plenty of space. Today the children and I realised there have been enough visitors that we should start making lists! Yes! The danger, of course, is that I may never move from my seat by the window again.

Especially when the yellow-rumped warbler is around. I adore a yellow-rumped warbler visit. Wouldn't you?

On Malleability

Flexibility. Or perhaps expectations.

I find myself approaching both of these somewhat cautiously, a bit sideways, and knowing I have a lot to learn.

Take, for example, the sort of household and mothering work that is a constant; the running of daily life and all it entails: sweeping, dishes, cooking, laundry, bills. Or children: feeding, ensuring health and cleanliness, prayers, homework, friends, tucking in, listening, consoling, encouraging. There is not a great deal of negotiation involved in these rhythms of daily life that have been performed with only gentle shifts for the last fourteen years. And contrast them with the things that seem to catch my breath and catch my eye and demand attention: Asher struggling in a new swimming level, negotiating my literature class, finding the reserves of energy needed to host a slumber party on my own. 

Flexibility. Expectations?

He wanted to quit. One lesson, the littlest guy, left gasping in their wake. And I could see that. But I also know that he won't go further unless he is pushed, and that he was once a very capable swimmer. He's been paddling about and enjoying it (for too long?). Maybe it's time for him to stretch, to have to try a bit harder.  So I am sending him in again, much to his chagrin and surprise.

The professor asked me how I found her class. I laughed, and then (because she was once a cab driver in NYC and she can take it) I told her I was bored. She laughed. She said, "I'll give you the students who need help. You can show them how to edit and be my assistant teacher."

So. Not what we expected, neither Asher nor I. Yet this is how it all works, a balance between the rhythm of home and the negotiations all around us. We can handle the challenges, find our reserves of flexibility and redefine expectations, because we have the safety of our daily motions to sustain us.

I have been reading a lot about different rhythms  lately. It is quite the catch-phrase, and perhaps this is why-- it is the foundation we lay for pushing ourselves up and out and beyond.

It is still raining and grey here. Simon will not be home for weeks. I haven't given that slumber party a thought.

But in the meantime, we will drink tea after school and eat berry crumbles together (there you go, a semi-realted photo for you). We will do dishes and fold laundry and say our morning and evening prayers. Trudge to class, wait for the bus, remember to pull the beans out of the freezer. And hopefully, in the midst of it all, we will find moments of kindness and comfort and warmth and love that will buoy us up and lend us the strength and courage to meet the next round requiring further flexibility and new-to-us expectations. Slumber parties and all.

 

Hidden Word Number Fourteen

Ooops. With a lack of rhythm due to holidays followed by unpredictable weather followed by Simon's daperture for Malawi, I forgot to post this last week's Hidden Word. Here it is:

O SON OF MAN!

Thou art My dominion and My dominion perisheth not, wherefore fearest thou thy perishing? Thou art My light and My light shall never be extinguished, why dost thou dread extinction? Thou art My glory and My glory fadeth not; Thou art My robe and My robe shall never be outworn. Abide then in thy love for Me, that thou mayest find Me in the realm of glory.

~Baha'u'llah

Discussion:

The most interesting aspect of our discussion was getting the children to view this Hidden Word in terms of reality in this physical world. They were very quick to apply the meanings to Life After Death and the spiritual reality, but it was harder for them to think of practical interpretations that might apply to daily life.

Once we were able to think about "abiding in our love for God" and His light that is always burning within us, we were able to think about our current reality a bit differently.

Activity:

Since the discussion was a bit more difficult than usual, I did a simpler activity so that we could continue talking as we worked. Simon's mom taught the children how to make these "twisted snowflakes" over the break, so we went ahead and made some. They don't relate very directly to the Hidden Word, but they kept our hands busy as we hurt our brains, and were quite appropriate for this last week's snow!

To make them you need squares of paper (bear in mind that both sides will show; we liked the effect of double-sided scrapbook paper). We used 6"/15cm squares (scrapbook paper cut into four squares per sheet). You will also need tape and scissors.

Here is a visual of what we did:

Fold each sheet in half to form a triangle.

Fold each triangle in half again to form a smaller triangle.

Cut three lines in the triangle on the side with two folded edges (you cna see the pencil lines in the photo as a guide).

Open up the paper.

Tape two edges together, alternating the paper back and forth.

Eventually it will look like this! Don't worry about being too precise with any of this. Asher did it unaided and slightly wonky, and it was just fine.

To make a snowflake, attach six of these together in the centre (we found using a brad through hole-punched holes easiest) and find someplace to hang them up! 

We had a few singles left over, and they looked quite nice on their own, too:

 

 

 

Good, Better, Absolutely Best and Utterly Fantastic

1. The Good Thing about this week is that the children have been home for three days due to weather that has gone utterly mad. Two for snow and icy roads (their school is in the foothills) and one for flooding (the bus goes over a river which burst its banks today). Which means lots of fun and more chores done. Well, perhaps not that last bit quite so much. 

After the worst of the water receded today, Asher discovered the joys of scootering through puddles. 

Our house is high and dry, but it is exceptionally disorienting to go driving about and find the usual landmarks submerged. 

2. The Better Thing is that my dearest sister-in-law probably spent her days by the ocean eating magoes because she and Lukas have moved to St Lucia where he is working for the National School of Music. Well, better for April and Lukas anyway. It is still better for us because April has started a blog, although I have put in my complaint for More Updates. Twice daily would be excellent. 

3. The Absolutely Best and Utterly Fantastic Thing is that my extraordinarily talented brother (see above) has just released a CD.

I do not think the world realizes how fortunate it is. It is a Bossa Nova album, recorded with wonderful Brasilian musicians in Rio, then produced here in the US.  You can listen to "Samba de Mais Notas" (one of his original compositions) on youtube here. I will confess that I am not the world's biggest jazz fan. But this I pump up and listen to and do not get tired of. It is sweet and mellow, and meticulously crafted. In fact, you should go and buy yourself a copy. And I am not just saying that because he is my little brother. I would tell him if it stunk, albeit probably not quite this publicly. Ahem.

Go, go, shoo. Get a copy. What are you still doing here?

Seriously, though, I am immensely proud of him. He has worked so hard, and with so much love, and it truly shines through.

 

Snowing and Melting

And melting and snowing, and then doing it all again. That seems to be the pattern right now. The grass will all be clear and green, and then another dark cloud will swoop in and start it all over again.

Ana caught this moment of melting

and Bella this one of snowing:

I think the robins, all puffed out and huddled into flocks, have had quite enough of it all. 

The children have not! They went sledding and built more snowmen and tromped around town, revelling in it and pleading with the sky for more.

Bella has been filling little cups with snow and raspberry jam or maple syrup. Mmmm. 

I am tasked with keeping the hot chocolate and tea going. Simon sees to the fire.

I would not mind another snow day tomorrow...

It's a Good Thing I Bought Carrots

This morning at 6:30, I woke up and thought "Did it or didn't it?" and then of course I could not slepp again. I tiptoed into Asher's room, where he was still in bed, reading a Percy Jackson graphic novel.

"Have you looked outside?" I asked. He ran to the window, and here is what we saw under the street light:

He bundled and bundled, and we knew that it was warm enough we would not have too long. It was still dark, but that did not stop him!

Oh, it is always breathtaking in its beauty! The softened lines, the dark silouhettes of hungry birds, the contrast of limb and snow...

We threw (enormous) snowballs at the girls' window, and soon Bella joined him.

They rolled and patted and paused,  stacked and tucked and lifted until we had this little fellow peeking in at us through the dining room window. Ha!

Once both the sun and Ana were up, they moved on to snow angels (Bella does them belly-flop style, which Asher finds a bit mad...) and snowball fights. They stayed out untl they were good and cold.

I love these photos of Bella skipping towards me with joy. Since she could walk, she has always skipped when she is happy!

Now we are inside, but the sun has come out and everything is melting just as quickly as ever it can! Nevermind. There is more snow forecast for tonight.

 

Pieces and Ends

We have a friend who says, most charmingly, "odds and bits" instead of "odds and ends" or "bits and pieces". Which means that the leftovers of the leftovers land us with "pieces and ends", which is apt for these days now upon us.

We have been on long, wending, foggy (as in, "I can smell the sheep, but I cannot see them") traipses, just Simon and I. Well, perhaps not so very long as I am yet to recover fully. He said, "I have finally discovered what makes you happy: a clean house and regular walks outside." I said, "I know that." And I do. He has told me he will not take me on any further walks unless I am wearing earmuffs, which is fair enough as my ears are inordinately sensitive, and I have now pulled up twice due to painfully cold ears. 

So well-muffed,  we went on another one back to Baskett Slough where we saw fern and deer and a newt on the path, and had soup-in-thermoses for lunch. It must have been warm, what with finding a newt out and about. I just love them, with their smooth-rough skin and their wee fingers. There lots of over-wintering birds, as well, but I didn;t take any phtos of them.

As a family, we went into Corvallis and stopped at Asher's favourite sidewalk square (he has a favourite one in Monmouth, too, although not with a silver squirrel in it). We ate breakfast for lunch and laughed long and loud and had one of those days when it is just nice to be together.

I wrote letters and made up parcels to send to little first birthday boys and cousins far away and auntie and uncle not-quite-so-far-away, but still more-than-far-enough, and a friend only a few minutes away.

Today I started back to school, with deserved trepidation. Now I can see the work coming, and yet there is little to be done to avoid it. Ah well. Such is reality.

We also learned that my dear father was admited into hospital with a staph infection, as well as needing surgery for a kidney stone. These things are so stressful due to his MS. Please send him prayers and good thoughts if you have a moment.

Pieces and ends, indeed.

I am feeling a bit like the house next door these days. Battered, empty, washed out and faded. Of questionable usefulness and potential.

I can not shake this illness, and it is on week three now. A day up, a few days down. All this last night I wandered in and out of sleep, never settling, until I gave up at 4:30. So. Here I am waiting for the sun to slowly seep its way up and into the foggy day. 

Intellectually, I understand that life moves in these cycles of intensity, sorrow, loss, testing. Energy will return, wholesomeness and sunshine will be found once again-- it is the way of things. But truly, at this very moment, such things are theoretical and reality tugs the heart in other directions.

I am not ready for tomorrow. I do not think I have done the work I needed and wanted to do. I did not cross things off of my lists. There was not very much merry or very many brights. How do I wade into the next round of academic undertakings (undertows?) and Simon's travels and children's buy-ness fortified, enthusiastic, encouraging?

If I curl up will it all go away? Do I get a "restart" button?

It still dark outside. Still cold and empty.  A day when frailties and shortcomings display themselves across dull midwinter. When life throws up a dark glance and a wry smile. 

A nap would surely do wonders for one's outlook and constitution. But I wonder how many naps I could take, back to back, to wake up for spring?

 

We are home. It was a bit of a sad holiday, really. Not terribly holiday-ish. All of us fell ill except for Ai Ana. And while there were certainly good moments

(ferry rides and beautiful views), quite a lot of time was spent more like this:

 

Instead of like this:

Yesterday was the first day in two weeks I was up and out of bed all day. I could not decide whether to be grateful that I was ill over the holidays and therefore did not miss school, or to be perturbed due to such a rotten holiday. Hmm.

In any case, we are back. A new semester begins on Monday. Onward ho...

Hidden Word Number Thirteen

This week's HIdden Word is:

O SON OF SPIRIT!

I have created thee rich, why dost thou bring thyself down to poverty? Noble I made thee, wherewith dost thou abase thyself? Out of the essence of knowledge I gave thee being, why seekest thou enlightenment from anyone beside Me? Out of the clay of love I molded thee, how dost thou busy thyself with another? Turn thy sight unto thyself, that thou mayest find Me standing within thee, mighty, powerful and self-subsisting.

~Baha'u'llah

Discussion:

Remember our gold coins. How has God made us rich? How do we make ourselves poor?

What sort of nobility is inside of us? In what ways do we deny this nobility?

What are good sources of knowledge? Think about the difference between seeking truth and doubt.

God created us to become spiritual beings. The world is a gift so that we may learn from it and experience it fully. What do we lose by becoming distracted by it and lost in it, knowing it only for its own sake instead of looking at it as a way to learn?

Activity:

Use modeling clay (or beeswax) to create something representing what we love very much. Can you see the mark of your fingers in it? Does it reflect your care and love?

We used a polymer clay based on this recipe. It is a less toxic version of fimo that air dries hard and paintable. I adjusted the recipe as follows:

Polymer Clay

1 large bottle of white glue (7oz or roughly 3/4C)

1 C cornstarch

2 TBS mineral oil

juice of 1 lemon

Combine all ingredients in a small pot. This takes some stirring!

Over medium heat, stir continually until the mixture thickens.

Turn it our and knead it while still hot. If it is too sticky, add more cornstarch. I found it helped if I coated my hands with oil.

Keep the clay sealed until ready for use. It took about 2 days to fully air dry. I should also note that this has a rubbery texture, which means it is not as much like plastecine as I had imagined. It does better with larger, more organic shapes than highly detailed sculptures. The children all enjoyed working with it, though.