Luckybeans

A Day in the Life: Sunday

We needed a slow morning, a gentle start, time for each of us to simply be in our own space and on our own time. New yogurt with raspberry sauce, reading, the last phone call from Simon for three weeks as he travels to Malawi, my lilac finally blooming through the kitchen window.

When we finally all roused ourselves, the children were in a MOOD. Goofy, silly, exuberant, (maniacal?). Not a minute passed without giggling leading to hysterics. This sort of energy leaves me wary. I asked them to gather and come out to help in the garden. I mowed the lawn, stained my hands green, and added a thick green layer to the compost bin. The children worked on pulling grass and laying out leaves in the woodland bed. They were awful. They whined and fought and teased each other mercilessly and complained. I was almost in tears. To be fair, though, it was mostly Asher and Bella. Ana figured out what was what and beat a hasty retreat. Finally, I cordonned off areas, designated work procedures, and generally treated them like (naughty) four year olds. Ana helped nudge them in the right direction, and I went inside to put plasters on my newly acquired blisters (we don't seem to have any dignified plasters in this house).

I think tea fixes everything. It must. Well, I have to put my faith in something, and there are few things lovelier than tea. So I made us tea for lunch, and soon the grumpiness once more gave way to giddiness. A bit too much giddiness (practising French gave way to "do you think i can lick the dirt off of my elbow?!"). Sigh. I did try to remind them it was a Holy Day. Time to get moving.

On the drive up to Grandma's, they began to settle into jolly excitement, and that I can handle. Asher observed that two odd numbers added together always make an even. He is right. I had never thought of that. Clever boy. We admired Daddy's favourite hill. We stopped to watch the bees on the edge of the hazelnut orchard, so very busy in their oak grove. The children ran up and down the rows of trees for a bit before I let them back into the car. 

On arriving, I did warn my mother that the children were in fine form. They were sent to the mailbox, but that didn't prove sufficient exercise. Further tea helped a bit, followed by a walk to inspect what is blooming (the cammas isn't quite yet) and a scramble up and down the fallen tree.

We rounded them up and went to celebrate the Ninth Day of Ridvan at Leslie and Kevin's. It was glorious. Delicious middle-eastern food, beautiful Writings, children singing, Bach on the piano, nightingale songs looped in the background, mounds of flowers...Asher and Bella sat in the "Narnia chair" and did not even poke each other during the program. A wealth of beauty and joy, laughter and peace.

And afterwards, a farm to frolic in and run around. Chickens and puddles of cats, gardens and friends, music and baby goats (sorry, no photos! I know!). We did not get home until almost nine, but it was worth every second that we lingered on. Some days fluctuate so much as they meander through their course, their rhythm seems so odd and different. I need to learn to have more faith in the shape of things, even if I don't immediately recognise it.

Also, I am now a day behind. I'm sorry, but an image-heavy post like this takes me around two hours, and I just don't have the time to keep up right now. I'll get there...

 

 

A Day in the Life: Saturday

7:06 I slept in today! It is not a real morning without a morning snuggle from my boy. Quickly followed by tea with Mum, miso soup for breakfast, and a good while spent chatting in our pajamas. Saturday morning means weekly chores are finished up: floors swept and mopped, shopping lists made in preparation for the week, bedrooms and bathrooms all clean and tidy (although the children did their bath and bedrooms yesterday, which left more visitng with Grandma time today). 10:15 and we head out the door to get them to Children's Classes on time.

10:28 Children delivered, bank run made. Mum and I stop by the Farmer's Market to collect eggs and cheese, then walk down the street to our local bakery. Simon and I come here most Saturdays after dropping the children off. I am grateful for the company. We have a long talk, and excellent chocolate croissants. We also admire the old fir floors and the blue of the ceiling. We walk to the river to see how full it is (quite). We also stop by the magical book store. We leave empty-handed, but I vow to return soon with the children.

12:00 Children are met, and puppets they've been working on duly introduced. Maureen was born in 1847 and is grumpy. Sir Proboscus is ridiculous. Rango and Nemo seem to be up to no good whatsoever, but Fred (or was it Frank?) is thoroughly charming. We do the week's shopping on the way home. I am shamefully reminded that I need to figure out what happened to my mesh produce bags. Also, that six pound bag of candy is not for our consumption, thank you very much. We return home and have tuna fish sandwiches, well accompanied, for lunch.

Mum stays for a last cup of tea. We have a sad moment when Asher accidentally shoots the arrow over the fence. He has forgotten to face the barn, so it goes into the neighbour's yard. He feels awful and I hear him shouting tearful apologies before I even figure out what is happening. The neighbour, well-meaning, passes it back and remarks "It missed the dog by only six inches, you should be more careful!" Asher absolurely crumbles and runs upstairs where he hid in a ball in his closet. I explained that no harm had been done (no harm could have been done-- it was through a thick hedge and the arrow had no tip), and he had learned from his mistake. "Will you make that same mistake again?" I asked him. "Yes!" he wailed in despair. I assured him he would not, but it still took him ten minutes to emerge again, damp and somewhat bruised on the inside. As he gets bigger, I sometimes forget the sensitive wee boy who still lingers in his expanding frame. 

2:00 Grandma headed out to visit Grandpa, and any number of domestic activities ensued. It was announced that the best way to slide down the stairs is in footie pajamas, so the girls spent the rest of the afternoon suitably attired. Ana dried lemon balm time for tea, screen time was had, yogurt was made, homework undertaken, great fun had with both dragons and dragon fruit; even the beloved pot was soundly scrubbed (I never promised a day in my life would be exciting-- only accurate).

4:00 I went out to the garden and filled the pots for the back (Asher always enjoys digging in the gravel).

We learned at the last minute that we were hosting Feast. Thank heavens I made a pie this morning and the chores were done. It began at 6:30. We retold the story of Ridvan as some of the children hadn't been at the previous Holy Day, and the boys ran riot in the backyard until the sun began to go down (after doing a wonderful job during the readings and prayers).

8:15 After sunset and ascertaining just how much progress Ana has made on the guitar (an astonishing amount), we climbed back into bed to watch an episode of Victorian Pharmacy, which seems to have inspired the slathering on of homemade lotion. Such a full day. Such a good day. I think I will sleep soundly tonight.

 

A Day in the Life: Friday

5:27 Why did I wake up so early? I have to wait for the sun to rise. Simon has emailed first thing, so I would see it when I woke up. Today is our fifteenth anniversary. At last it's time to start moving: children roused, tea made, laundry in, breakfasts under way. I noticed that the garden is actually starting to look like a garden now. Thank heavens. Asher is sneaking in every bit of reading time that he can, even right before prayers. Bella remarked that her hair looked like Medusa rather than Einstein today.

7:10 Children at the bus, and I follow them. Not all the way, however. It is a misty, cold sort of morning, but I am up anyway and I suspect the wild iris and old apple trees are blooming, and I need to find out. Is there anything quite so beautiful as this? The wild strawberries are in bloom as well; the rain drops off the blossoms and petals and blades and lichens in bright spangles.

7:53 I arrive at the woods. This is my sanity saver, and my exercise (ok, so I tell myself that second bit to make myself feel better). All week, I shuttle back and forth between home and class and I find I lose my sense of perspective. My focus narrows. I worry about the state of the floor or how much I'm seriously studying. So once a week, I try to get out. Today, I am all alone here. No other cars. I think it's because I'm so early. And it's raining and 40 degrees out. But I snap my earmuffs firmly into place, zip up my sweatshirt, and am immediately sidetracked by all of the astonishing flowers that have come bursting out in the last two weeks. The higher I go, the foggier it gets. On the way back down, the fog turns to mist, to drizzle, and then to rain. I found the peak. This time, the hike was about half as long. Hm. I stand by the pond and watch the salamanders swimming, but I don't take a picture (I can't because of the lighting and the rain). I love salamanders. I finally begin to realize that I can't feel susbstantial portions of my body and should probably return.

9:56 I get home. It feels like I've already spent a full day, but evidence suggests otherwise. I have a lot of reading to do. I settle down to it, but after an hour, I'm still shivering so have to take a Very Hot Shower break. Continue reading. I swap between G B Shaw and anthropolgy articles and Biology chapters so I don't fuse my cerebellum or fall asleep. I snack and eat haphazardly. I switch the laundry. I scrounge around for book recommendations for friend. I read some more. Sigh. The upside here is that I can't mow the lawn as it's still raining. Ha.

3:35 Get the children. Well, two out of three. One has gone missing. She returns home shortly, bearing flowers from Simon. They collaborated and got the job done! They even smell delicious. Asher has strange almond-nibbling habits...he likes to lie on his back in the middle of the kitchen floor. I set the kids to tidying their rooms and bathroom (Bella is terribly impressed), and start the broth for dinner. The girls' room has never before been seen on this blog. Ooooo. They sleep with their heads at the foot of the bed, and usually on top of the covers. I've no idea why. They also each have a "special shelf." The rock doorstop is from Zomba, and that is a very full bookcase. We always seem to run short on bookshelves.

6:00 Supper time! Soup made by the girls. The verdict? Scrumptious. We are missing Simon, though. I keep setting his place, the girls both wore one of his shirts today, and they did "Daddy eating impressions"  at dinner. They kept saying "I can just imagine Daddy..." and "Well, Daddy would..." It is incredibly heartwarming and hearbreaking simultaneously. Ana also noted that parsnips "taste like coke." Dishes took two goofy children nearly an hour. We are waiting for Grandma to come spend the night! I could hear my Dad chipping in from the background when I called her earlier, and it was so good to hear him sounding just like him.

7:56 Children are reading and playing guitar and puzzling rubic's cubes. Bed seems irresistable right now. Asher cuddles up next to me reading the funny bits of his book out loud. I think this is all for today...

 

A Day in the Life: Thursday

6:17 woke up, got out of bed...porridge, toast and tea; packing bags, garbage day; a loose tooth; morning prayers; surprisingly cold as we left the house-- Asher not impressed.

7:52 off to class:spanish, library, bio lecture; home for lunch; study a bit; this weather is decidedly unsettled--rain then wind then sun then biting cold, repeat; changing the sheets; skype April!

3:46 children all home;  wrangle clean sheets onto the bed; advise Simon's dinner options; inspect lost tooth and filthy hands ("what were you doing?" "having fun, of course"); one heads out to play with Lucy (Eloise escaped and the trampoline was brilliant); one maintains her socially networked status; one reads her novel; three share tea and cake, courtesy of last night's leftovers.

5:33 time to start dinner with the bolting tops of the winter's kale; guitar practice; more reading; snuggling into the bed (so that is why the sheets needed a wash) to watch a Tudor Feast; prayers, kisses, sleep...

9:49 Today I was grateful for things small and large. For my father's improved health. For almond soap and tea and apple blossoms. For skype and instagram and whatsapp that keep me connected to those far and near. And always for this day, to try again.

Good night.

A Day in the Life: Wednesday

6:27 I wake up because I her Bella thumping about in the closet. It is not very light, which means a grey day today.

6:30 Go wake Asher up and head downstairs to make lunches. I have to pack one for me, too, because it is Wednesday, my day of classes straight from 8 to 4 with no breaks. I try to take morning photos, but they really don't work out very well. It is too overcast today. Still, I suppose it's worth holding on to them to preserve lunchpacking/ sunglass wearing milk jug/ someone forgot to run the dishwasher last night memories...

6:57 We gather in the living room for morning prayers and readings.

Out the front door this morning. I can hear the doves calling.

On our way to the bus stop. Asher wants to know if he is "able to wear glasses" and is quite put out when I explain that he doesn't need them.

The children are the first at the stop and run to hide so they can scare their friends. Goodbye and have a nice day.

My favourite view spot on the way home (the trees have just leafed out).

I have fifteen minutes to have a cup of tea, finish getting ready, pack my bag and head out to class myself. Instagram on my phone until I get home again!

7:45 Out the back door this morning.

7:52 I am in this hallway the majority of most days. Up and down the corridor. Spanish first, always. It is worth the 8am class to have this professor. He is fantastic.

10:00 In biology lab. Plant taxonomy today. 

12:00 Back to the corridor for English lit. We are reading "The Importance of Being Earnest" and several other bits of Wilde. I love my professor. When he gets excited, he makes contained little hops, opens his hands invitingly, and twinkles. We were watching the final scene of the play, so I missed a phone call from my Mum.

1:48 I see the missed call so return it (in the corridor) just before my anthropology class. My Dad had minor surgery for kidney stones yesterday. The surgery was fine, but his recovery did not go well. His MS kicked in, leaving him in great pain and with dangerously low blood pressure. Mum said he is still in ICU, and we both realised how very fragile he suddenly seems. He is getting better, he will be fine. I hang up the phone, promising to pass on information to my brother and Simon. For the first time, I find myself facing the fact that my sweet, funny father may not always be there. Yes, he has been ill for a very long time, but somehow I now see that he will not always be there. I find I can't quite face class today. I find my professor and tell her my father is in the ICU and I will not be in class. 

2:00 I hear the bells ringing the hour from the tower above the corridor where I am not. I walk towards home faster. I try calling Simon. He is Puerto Rico. He can't answer, but texts to say he will call back soon.

2:03 The house is empty. I can't stand to be in it. I walk back outside. Simon calls.

2:06 We talk. I am under an apple tree in Oregon, he is sheltering from the pouring rain beneath the eaves of a nameless hotel in Pureto Rico, and we do not have very much to say, really. But it is enough somehow.

2:15 I sit down and pray and work on biology homework and write emails to my brother. I am not feeling very focused and keep checking the clock for when the children will get home.

3:45 Today is library day, so I gather up the giant striped bag and drive to meet the children. I find each of them happy, tucked into their own favourite spots. We read for a while. I browse a few magazines, but become so fed up with the ads I give up.

This is the house across the street from the library. I always notice it. It looks to be equal parts neglected and adored, and slightly misplaced.

On our way back, we somehow begin discussing the logic of traditions (or lack thereof), particularly in specific religious contexts. Bella states that many of them do not make very much sense to her, "except for the Easter bunny. That makes a lot of sense." That really made me laugh as I knew exactly what she was thinking of (the pagan traditions regarding eostres)-- but truly, she did sound ridiculous.

Once home, Asher makes some peanut butter toast, Ana proudly shows me her "awesomest octopus" (and puffer fish), and I manage to save Asher's permission slip to sign for next week.

4:45 Cake and tea for dinner sounds like precisely the right thing for today. I send the children up for baths and showers, and promise them just that if they duly present themselves sufficiently scrubbed.

5:48 'Tis served. The girls tell Asher that the eggs are blue because there is actually a chemical in the water that reacts with the sulfur of an egg to change the shell's colour as it boils. I think they convinced him. Now do I have to dye all hardboiled eggs blue? Conversation then turns to the etymology of words: Anglo-Saxon, Celtic, French, Scandanavian, Latin and Greek. The girls have a project on this, and of course I love it, so they ask me all sorts of questions and we end up in all sorts of different directions. I even manage to persuade Bella that "ablout" is a splendid word for a simple concept. I miss linguistics class!

7:25 Why can't we get through one night without everyone complaining and bickering over dishes? Perhaps he is just overtired, overwhelmed. I don't know.

Bella took this one as he was pulling himself together to get back to work.  

8:00 Sgt Frog (oh dear), reading and prayers and tucking everyone in.

8:43 I am tired now. I will dig through the striped bag and see if someone hasn't brought home something that I can curl up with, just for a bit, while the rain patters against the window.

Blessings.

 

 

 

 

It is Ridvan!

That precious, sweet, beloved, King of Festivals! Blessed days when, in a rose covered garden of an isalnd, in air filled with perfume and the ceaseless singing of nightingales, Baha'u'llah told the world that He had come! 

This year we were able to host the first of the twelve days in our home. My mother came down bearing roses, the children practised songs with their children's class and told the story for everyone using our needle-felted Ridvan garden. All the children were able to participate. Prayers were said, songs listened to and sung, friends both young and old came and enjoyed special words and food and fellowship.

The day was bright, sunny and warm. Tadpoles were discovered in our garden! Friends stayed until dinner, then for dinner, which they cooked for me with greens from our garden. Those are Good Friends.

As these sweetest of days unfold, I am continually reminding myself to seek the beauty and the joy and the light and the love that surrounds us (it isn't always easy, especially with Simon away, hence the continuous nature of the reminders). But, oh, the evidence is here! The rosemary is buzzing with bees, the euphorbia and veronica are going full tilt!

Beginning tomorrow, I am joining two dear friends in a belated start to A Week in the Life (although I may not post/link over there. Is that allowed? I am dismally uninformed regarding blog etiquitte). Which means I will be here every day for the next week. I hope! With all of the nitty-gritty bits, too. Because in the end, I don't really want to forget them, either.

Ploughing Through

Ouch. 

You know, I am reading Oscar Wilde right now, but I do not think he would have stooped quite so low as that title.

In any case, without further a-do, horse pictures for April:

Percherons

Shires (I think these were my favourites. Also, those little whitish lumps in the background are sheep with lambs. It was rather idyllic, yes).

Belgians

Mules (not horses).

We attended an event co-sponsored by the Oregon Draft Horse Association and the Yamhill County Historical Society. I also interviewed a few of the teamsters for an Anthropology paper I had to do. It was all quite interesting, and we enjoyed getting to see the horses and mules put to work. It quickly became obvious that there was a huge difference between teams-- the percherons, for example, were trained to pull and it was all their teamster could do to keep them down to plowing pace. The mules, on the other hand, seemed quite happy to meander back and forth. We admired the percherons' deep chests, the shires' feathered hooves, the belgians' strong hindquarters and the mules' sturdy utility. The people were pretty interesting, too:

The children also got to investigate a replica of a covered wagon:

Some sheep:

Spinning and lace making:

Ducklings:

And even released a homing pigeon:

I was quite proud of Bella as she was the only child who actually managed to hold on to her bird until the appropriate time.

Asher's favourite part was the blacksmith's, of course, and Simon's the sawmill.

We even spotted the steam tractor on the go. It was quite the day.

 

 

 

Dear Ones,

There is a lot of catching up to do. I have fallen behind in this little corner, and I do apologise-- I will do my best to try to catch up and be a more reponsible reporter of the innane this week.

Today was a glorious day. The sun shone with deep warmth. I woke up and went running out to breathe in air that felt so very different. Bella was grumpy, so I told her "Go outside! Just smell the air this morning." She glowered at me, but did. And she came in with a wide smile. "You are right! It smells happy!"

It was a full day, a blessed day, the second in this King of Festivals, Ridvan (more on this, too, soon I hope). I planted five wild rose bushes before 9am, and hung out three loads of laundry on the washing line.

We went to Philomath to participate in Junior Youth animator training (me), go on home visits (Ana and Bella) and play with new friends (Asher). We diverged and reconverged and returned home with full hearts and grateful spirits.

We skyped Daddy in Puerto Rico and Lukas and April in St. Lucia and were, for once, content to be in our own clime as we ate outside and watched the sun set over the tulips.

These are busy days, and we are on our own until June. But they are beautiful, full, satisfying days, too, so I am hoping we remember to bask in them to the fullest extent we can manage.

Updates From Here and There

The good news is that I did not get lost on this week's hike. It was a sedate affair over well-known hills with pauses to admire the chipmunks or trout lilies or mushrooms, and to listen to the meadowlarks.

Yesterday we attended the neighbouring county's historical farm festival that focused on plowing with teams of draught horses and mules. I did some observation for my anthropology class, and took many photos-- more on that later this week as I get it organised.

There were momentary pauses for dandelion blowing, a visit to grandparents, and the first visit for ice cream of the year.

This morning we are catching up with household chores before plunging into the inevitable busy-ness of this life that seems to be ours.

Wishing you all well, friends.

The Transformative Power of Eggs

It has been a long break between Hidden Words here, and I can only say that this was due to that equally long stream of Ayyam'i'Ha-Fast-Naw Ruz-Spring Break that seems to have diverted our focus in other directions.

I have also been thinking a lot about why we do this, and why discussing the Hidden Words is so important to me as a mother. First and foremost, I want to point out that for the purpose of this (albeit one-sided) conversation, the fact that we use the Hidden Words specifically is not of paramount importance. What matters to me is that there is a dedicated time and space in which we mindfully address the spiritual nature of ourselves at an individual level, the world around us, and how we should interact with it. The Hidden Words are beautifully created to facilitate precisely this, and that is why I continually fall back on them. But what I absolutely cannot do without is the integration of spiritual reality into our daily lives. These writings provide a window through which to view ourselves, those around us, and how the world works. We end up exploring everything from art to science to nature to history to gardening all in one smooth stream of inquiry, and this is how it should be. This life on this earth is all about exploring and learning and discovering, on mulitple levels and in multiple ways, and they are all aspects of a single reality. It is with this sense of purpose that I approach these little exercises and activities, but in doing so, I also try to address my greatest fear. If I fail to teach my children this fundamental unity of life, and its importance to their own spiritual reality, I will truly feel as if I have failed as a mother. So I may fall off for a while, but I hope I always manage to climb back on. It is not enough for me to tell them that they should be good or kind or brave or truthful in an abstract or idealised sense-- I need to know that they understand why, in the deepest aspect of themselves, they need to be true to their own beautiful, noble, spiritual selves.

In any case, without further ado:

Hidden Word Number Eighteen

O SON OF SPIRIT!

Ask not of Me that which We desire not for thee, then be content with what We have ordained for thy sake, for this is that which profiteth thee, if therewith thou dost content thyself.

~Baha'u'llah

Discussion:

First of all, I just love this one. It is such a source of comfort to me. So I asked myself why, and that lead to this week's questions and discussions. First and foremost, this Hidden Word focuses on humility, contentment, gratitude and understanding the Will of God. From previous weeks, we recalled just how much God loves us, and that He obviously wouldn't want to make us suffer for no good reason. So why do we get so sad and angry? Why is life so hard sometimes? We further discussed that there are two types of tests and difficulties in this life: the ones God gives us so that we can grow and change, and the ones we make for ourselves out of our own vanity/greed/short-sightedness, etc. It is our responsibility (and ability) to minimise the tests of our own making (ahem) and begin to understand the purpose of the tests God gives us as a chance for us to change and grow spiritually. These are enormous, difficult themes, and I obviously cannot do them justice here, and we continue to discuss them on an ongoing basis. 

Activity:

Alright, this might seem a bit of a leap, but bear with me. One of the transformations that is easy and fun to witness can be found in eggs. Not fertilised eggs (although that could work, too), but the ones we use in cooking. I had the children think of all the different ways we use eggs: they provide the puff in a puff pancake, they can be fried, boiled, merengued, thickened into custard, scrambled...In other words, they are incredibly diverse in how they behave and what they are used for in cooking and baking. Now, how does this all work? We looked specifically at the process that an egg white goes through when it is beaten (a detailed explanation can be found here), and I was terribly impressed by my girls when they informed me that egg whites were protein molecules with a coiled structure. Little smarty-pants-nerds. Anyway, in the prolonged beating, the structure uncoils and incorporates air and transforms into something else entirely. Which can easily be applied to the effect tests can have on us. I don't imagine it would be a pleasant or easy process to have one's proteins uncoiled, but look at the resuilts!

Of course, we had to make a pavlova for this week. Partly becuase it illustrated the point so well, partly because it is so yummy, and partly because Bella desperately needed to use her new mixer. We also made a lemon curd using the egg yolks, which showed a completely different sort of transformation as the curd thickened (and yes, there is a layer of lemon curd underneath the strawberries and cream).

Both processes were longer than the children anticipated, but they were also exceptionally delicious and well worth the time and effort. So yes, baking can be a spiritual metaphor. And I think this is what I want them to see-- that everything, but everything, is beautiful and applicable in so very many ways.