Luckybeans

Sweet Thanks

So many many thanks to all of you who left comments on my last two posts. It is times like these when I curse Typepad for not forwarding my comments and making it possible to reply to each of you. But know that each and everyone is read (and re-read), and so appreciated.

Caramel corn. Absolutely and completely utterly terrible for you, but a truly delicious treat. This is Simon's Auntie Sue's recipe. Auntie Sue is the Queen of Good Times By the Lake, so you know you are in good hands. The following is a half recipe, which lasts our family over a weekend (as long as I am in charge of doling it out).

First of all, clean out your kitchen sink and make a BIG batch of popcorn (around 8 cups). Microwave popcorn is too fragile for this, so get old-fashioned and haul out a big pot or an air popper.

In a saucepan on the stove, combine:
1/2 C butter
1 C br sugar
1/4 C golden syrup

Boil for 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and add:
1 t vanilla
1/2 t baking soda

At this point, your popcorn should be in the sink, along with any chopped nuts you may wish to add (we have an enthusaistic resident nut smasher Asher in our house). Pour your caramel over the popcorn, and mix it up with a wooden spoon.

Place the caramel corn in a thin layer on baking sheets, and put in a low (200 degree F) oven for 20 minutes so it dries out a bit.

This keeps well in a tin, but it never lasts long enough for me to tell you how well.

Enjoy!

My Bubby

Some mornings I wake up with someone so strongly on my mind, I almost feel that if I concentrate on them hard enough, they will materialise in front of me. This morning I have been thinking of my brother, but I doubt any thoughts will cause him to apparate from Northern California.

I am often struck by people who do not get along with their siblings. I can not personally fathom this. I can remember with clarity the night he was born-- out tiny car clinging to Andean cliffsides as we wound our way downward to the maternity clinic. The stars were so clear and bright I felt that I was in some other night where the night could fall around us like a cloak. I waited in an adjoining room for him to be born, playing with my fisher price house, and getting increasingly annoyed with the nurses (I knew that the table was supposed to go in the dining room, but I didn't want it to go there; and why couldn't they just leave me alone so I could concentrate on the much Bigger Things Happening right now?). And then I heard him, and a little while later my father took me to see him-- a squishy round ball of baby, and I was in love. I helped give him baths in an inflatable orange tub on the dining room table. I was in charge of the rinsing with a turkey baster.

Lukas and I shared a room until I was ten. Yes, I ran away from him up trees to read. But we were also exceptionally close. And sometimes I really miss him still. No one can make me laugh so much. No one else understands me without judgement or expectation, or with such simple love. No one else can help me build legos so efficiently. Lukas is the one person in the world whom I can love unconditionally without any trace of guilt like I ought to be doing more or less or differently.

A brother is a wonderful thing. And I am eternally grateful for mine.

(In case you were wondering, Lukas spent the first five years of his life as various animals. He was very good at it; I could always tell whether he was a leopard or cheetah almost instantly. But sometimes he chose an animals like a horse and let me participate; we took our roles quite seriously, evidently, much to my mum's amusement. And yes, I dressed myself).

Dealing with Trauma

Being a mother is hard work. We all know that. But sometimes these little ones really do throw us a curve ball.

Asher has spent an inordinate amount of time in hospitals and doctor's offices (he had growth issues and lots of physio and all sorts of pokings and proddings as a little one), and had always been an ideal patient. This past December, however, he ended up in hospital yet again, this time for amoebas and malaria. He was put on IV and given very painful injections, and was traumatised by the event. I didn't know he was truly traumatised until one morning when he was watching  cartoons in Grandma's  living room. A nurse came onto the screen to swath  Yogi Bear in bandages and Asher went pale, broke out into a cold sweat, had difficulty breathing, and went into  absolute panic. This, I realised, was serious.

So what to do? First we turned off the TV. Then we slowly began talking to him about how important doctors are, and so on. Over the past few months, I hunted down the sweetest doctor I could find, and set up "check up" appointments with her. As he walked into the office and smelled the antiseptic cleaner, he began whimpering, "I smell blood!" The doctor was briefed that he would probably cry (he did-- the site of the otoscope brought total breakdown), and she was lovely and chatted with him, and hardly even touched him. Then I began bringing him along with his sisters to their appointments. And finally, this week, I made him a play doctor's set. This is a huge step. I know it seems silly, but for him to hold that syringe is an enormous step forward.

I also included lots of bandages, a stethoscope, and some actual medicine (arnica and rescue cream) that he can help administer.

He was a very attentive doctor, and even cracked a smile when Bella howled and carried on as he administered her injection.

Life can be such a challenge for these little souls.

Home Again

Asher still has sand in his hair, but we are home. Tired out, full of sun, and dreaming yet again of ways to move into the bush.

We had a wonderful few days by the lake. The weather was perfect, and the company just fine. One of the things I love about the lake is that as soon as we arrive, word goes out and the children start congregating on the beach to play. Ana, Bella and Asher have instant friends, and they all run around in packs from sunrise to sunset. No matter that they don't share a language-- ring-a-rosy, sandcastles, dock jumping, catch, and swimming all manage quite well with giggles and tugs.

We ate our share of fresh fish, too. This fellow was Bella's lunch on Friday.

I took more photos than I know what to do with, ad it will be hard to narrow down the series. Yes, I will give  everyone a preview as the time gets closer for the show. That won't be for a few months yet; I shudder to think how many shots I could have accumulated by then.

And just for the record, the bushes around the cottage garden where full of luckybeans, so we gathered a bunch. This photo of Bella shelling them in her vintage linen pillowcase dress just makes me melt. Happiness is so completely independent of material goods. Sometimes we need to get away, watch a troupe of children at play, and remember this. Simplicity, always.

Remember to Breathe

My goodness. Life has become so busy these days, I really could do with an internet connection at home! I am finding it difficult to make the stop for access.

For one thing, the gardener brought home a new duck.

For several others, I have met with the gallery regarding my photographs, been offered a gelateria/ pattiserie, asked to help run puppet shows, given two websites to assist in designing, assigned to photographing the local government schools for a community initiative project, and been called up for duty at the school library. It doesn't rain...

The gallery was the most exciting news. I am now working on two series of black and white portraits of Malawian children. One for exhibition, and one for production into postcards (at least I don't have to write accompanying Hallmark sentiments).  Be still my beating heart.

I turned down the gelateria (so tempting, but such long hours) and the puppet show. The websites will unfold gradually, and the school photography is just another excuse for more great photos of children. The library should keep me busy, though. So that's my life these days.

Ai Ana's is almost as hectic. She has moved into her own room, and is thrilled. Everyone follows her there anyway, but she feels like she has her own space, and that is what is important. She has had a regular stream of friends over to inspect the premises. The girls are always good fun, eager to craft or explore and happy to play with the siblings. One friend came and designed this scarf for herself:

I love watching the way they consider the material. They are so meticulous in selecting colours and patterns, and it is always great fun to see what they end up deciding on. Each little piece of patchwork is such a reflection of their thought and personality.

Since Ana is studying the solar system these days, we had another friend over yesterday who helped paint a series of styrofoam balls to construct a solar system. There was paint everywhere! Good job I sent them outside, but I ought to have photographed the state of the bath. Asher went off to school this morning with yellow still clinging behind one ear and in the depths of his belly button.

As I was tidying up, I found these brushes laying on the cement ledge under the garden tape. There was something infinitely comforting about the sight of worn brushes on a wet concrete block, furrowed by years of water running across it. The flecks of paint still clinging to worn handles reminded me of moments of happiness from pre-memory, high school, kitchen table adventures with my own little ones...

Tomorrow we are going to the Lake for a few days again. I am afraid I won't be back here for an embarrassingly long while yet again. But I am taking my camera. Be well, friends.

Life is Good

Simon is home, Ridvan has begun, we are all having far too much fun. This weekend we went camping in the backyard, worked on the deck, and began working on costumes for book week. We were visited by one Ronald Weasley.
He is such a goof.
He didn't even notice Pigwidgeon had flown off until it was already half dark (I made the cloak and separate hat/hood, for the record).

For the 12 days of Ridvan, I am trying to do a craft/activity a day with the children. Yesterday we used this wonderful idea via Crafty Crow and did a color hunt in the garden.

OW ow Ow oW OW

Yesterday I hiked up a mountain. My friend convinced me to go with her. When we were three quarters of the way up I asked if my face was purple yet. She laughed at me, thinking I was being witty. When we reached the top she took a good look at me and said, "Oh, you are purple!" I said I knew that. At least it earned me a rest before having to head back down.

The view was spectacular. But I didn't take a picture for you, because I was not hauling camera up with me. I had a hard enough time with my own pitiful self.

Have you noticed I haven't sewn or crafted anything in ages? I just noticed that. I better get moving. On something, at least.

Hmmm. Feeling very random today...

Bella found this dead bird the other day. A blue waxbill. So beautiful, even dead. The boys were trying to throw it at her, but she intercepted it and gave it a proper burial.

Took this photo of Asher holding a ball and ring, and it made me think of the circus.

Ana's ear is better. She and Asher are both having friends over this afternoon. Which likely means more silliness than I can shake a stick at. Better go check out Crafty Crow to keep those kids busy.

And I found a solitary blossom in the garden! I love it. I know it nothing like Alex's profusion of blossoms (I keep those posts open for days at a time, just gazing at the photos), but I will take what I can get.

Death and circuses, friends, illness, solitary blossoms-- life is indeed random. But there is beauty in it all.

Photo Madness

I do not think I've gone anywhere this week without my camera. I have decided to try and do a collection of black and white photos of Malawian children. Which means I actually have to have some to show the gallery owner by next week. Oh, right.

Here are a few of my favorite color ones:

Faith catching a ball

Neomi wall walking

Brian 10 days old

Stuart showing Neomi the bit of wire they were playing with.

And despite lugging my camera all over town, all of the photos I have so far decided to keep are from my backyard. Just goes to show me, I suppose.

In the meantime, we are all hanging in there. Spent yesterday afternoon with Ana at the doctor's for an ear infection, and we are just waiting until Saturday when Daddy comes home.

Treading

You all know by now that I try and use this little corner of the internet to keep myself somewhat sane and optimistic. It is strange to me how very cyclical life is. Right now, for instance, I am struggling to keep my head above water; or rather, above the deep and murky swamp of apathy that is so very tempting. No sense to it, of course. I have every reason to be a happy and joyful being (perky, even). But I still had to fight my urge to keep the children home form school this morning to keep me company, and have spent the last hour moping through pretty blogs.

So I am trying very hard to focus on things like how pretty the laundry line is, and remembering to send the taxes off.

Maybe I should go bake something.

Be careful what you wish for.

Simon flew off to Addia Ababa for the week. Bella caught Asher's virus. So life goes.

I dropped Asher off to play at his friend's house and brought the girls out for coffee and cake at the local art gallery/ coffee shop. And somehow got to talking to the woman who runs the gallery and somehow got to agreeing to bring in a selection of photos for her to look through next week.

Blink blink.

I think I ate some butterflies with my cake.

Oh, yes. The jasmine is in bloom.