Pitch for a Shift

Yesterday afternoon Jay and I sat at the table stripping mint leaves from their stalks, arranging them in assorted patterns on the dehydrator trays.   We were both a bit worn with the day, and so I had made some mate latte tea.  I had mine with honey, and that, along with the crisp scent of mint, seemed to be lifting the tired fog that engulfed me.

We talked a bit about his work, and then I made my pitch.

“Let’s try something new,” I suggested.  “Let’s make our midday meal our main meal of the day.  Before then, we can all work together, in the garden, on your carcycle, whatever.  After the meal, you can go to your shop, I can go to my studio, and the kids can have free time.”

I had this idea that morning, as my children fought downstairs with a vengeance.   I was trying to get a small task done, and had left them to their own devices.  Of course this was a recipe for disaster, but only a minor disaster, the type to which I am somewhat immune.  I need some sort of shift, I thought, as Renee screamed at McKinley at the top of her lungs downstairs.  There has to be a way for us to move more into the life we desire with less stress and more beauty.  There just has to be a way!

As it has been, our life very loosely resembles a traditional set-up, whereby Jay goes to work in the morning, albeit just next door, and usually around 10 am, and I stay at home with the kids.  That is about where the resemblance ends, since “staying home with the kids” might mean swimming in the river, or it might mean discussing the current crisis in Gaza, as we did yesterday.  Still, being the only one with the kids for most of the day means that when I can break away to the studio, I usually don’t have the energy.  Making dinner at the end of the day usually takes what last bit of energy I might have had.

So in our constant quest–sometimes joyful, sometimes not–to do everything, we are attempting a shift change.  We’ll try it for a week and see how it works.  Today was the first day, and oh, today!

We started the day with coffee, as usual, sitting at the table in our outdoor kitchen.  I woke the children by reading some of “The Island of the Blue Dolphins” to them.  Reading with them in the morning, rather than at night, has proven to be the trick to getting my children from sleep to wakefulness without yelling.  Then we read together from “Opening Doors Within,” which is a daily meditation book by Eileen Caddy, one of the co-founders of Findhorn.  Breakfast was followed by jumping on the trampoline, and then into the garden we went, weeding and planting 8 butternut squash plants.  The clouds came and cooled us from the hot Sun, and then the rain began to fall upon us, big thick drops, sporadic and delicious at first, and then a torrent.  We rushed to the house, wet and laughing.

For our midday meal, Jay and Renee made a stack of handmade tortillas (thirty-two to be precise), while McKinley made hummus, and I made a frittata.

Renee & Tortillas

I sent McKinley to the garden to take pictures of the row of butternut squash and the limbs of our peach trees, which are laden with peaches.  We have so many peaches that I’ll be making peach preserves, peach chutney, and peach pie come August.  Anyway, here’s the pictures he took:

baby butternutBaby ButternutRose

Rose

Baby PeachBaby Peach

My Marvel of Venice beans are coming up strong, and the arugula I planted with the kids a few days ago has made a fine green appearance.  We’ve been getting good rain this week, so the other beans I planted, and the sunflowers, should be showing pretty soon.  The garden grows, the river warms, and summer really is upon us. With my husband joining me in the garden, I feel like anything is possible!

Will Trade Virus for Stress

The Strange Virus has left. I slept in a little this morning, figuring I deserved it, then shuffled the kids off to piano lessons. There was much moaning about this from McKinley, who is 9 going on 17, thanks to the influence of his older brother Bert. He wants to play guitar, and thinks his teacher is lame.

Rather, she is incredible. And McKinley isn’t so bad at the piano game, either. When he sits at her piano, which admittedly sounds angelic compared to ours, his fingers begin playing all sorts of things he’s picked up from the aforementioned brother. He does this in between actual pieces he’s playing for his lesson, and he does this whenever his teacher has momentarily paused in giving him guidance. It’s maddening for me! “Lesson manners!” I remind him, but she just smiles back at me. She understands, she tells me, she had one like this, so full of life and energy. And today she asked him the title of this one thing he’s played over and over until my ears hurt.

“You won’t like it,” he tells her.

“That’s okay, what matters is that you like it,” she smiles, ever so generously.

“It’s Death Clocks Thunderhorse,” he rambles off, then makes some heavy metal air guitar motions. I roll my eyes.

“Okay, I’ll see if I can find the music for it, so you can learn to play it CORRECTLY,” she smiles again, this time her evil-piano-teacher intentions revealed to me by the glint in her eyes. McKinley is oblivious. She’s very good.

Renee got back from her four-day trip to Washington D.C. with friends on Monday. The highlight of her trip was seeing baby ducks at the Botanical Gardens. No surprise there. She was also very impressed with the hotel, a Holiday Inn, because the kids ate free for breakfast AND dinner. There was also a pool, and she had packed three swimsuits in anticipation of this, only to be deeply disappointed that there turned out to be no time for swimming. Instead they walked all over the place looking at museums.

I had told her that when she got back I would take her to a pool so she could go pool-swimming. Poor thing, she’s grown up swimming in a mountain river. Now all that she wants is to swim in a pool. Go figure. But I came down with the dreaded Strange Virus, and was out for two days, during which not only did she have to entertain herself, but she did NOT get taken to a real swimming pool. Now that I could walk up the stairs without my head swimming, it was time for me to take her to the pool down the road.

This I did not want to do. There was so much that needed to be done, I’d missed Monday going to Charlotte to pick her up, and Tuesday and Wednesday with the Strange Virus. My day had already been set back with the rescheduled piano lessons. Since she also wanted to make some chocolate chip cookies (this girl is always planning something) I thought maybe we could do the cookies today, swimming tomorrow. Much girl-grief ensued with this suggestion, which escalated to a small argument in which I got testy and she got upset, crying, “I’m sorry, Momma,” which is really code for, “I’m sorry but will you please give me what I want anyway?” So I called the pool. They’re not even open yet. And of course she doesn’t want to go swimming in the river, which is right across the road and absolutely divine for swimming in.

So we made cookies instead. I had become stressed. I was thinking about my garden. How I’m always behind with planting. How the weeds are everywhere. She wanted to make the “Best Ever Chocolate Chip Dip Cookies” and I wasn’t even sure what she meant by that. We got out some cookbooks, reading over different recipes. This one used three sticks of butter. No, thanks. This one used ricotta cheese. Whatever. Like I just happen to have ricotta cheese in my refrigerator because I might want to whip up some homemade ravioli or lasagne or chocolate chip cookies. OK. Next recipe. Double Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies. Score! Renee LOVES mint, and we have lots growing, well, everywhere.

Renee was really into making the cookies. She did a great job, and enjoyed herself thoroughly. I enjoyed helping her. When we spread the dough onto the cookie sheet, she revealed her secret plan for what a “”Chocolate Chip Dip” cookie would be–one that had a chunk of chocolate hidden in the middle! I was impressed with her innovation.
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After the cookies came out of the oven and had been appropriately devoured, she changed into a scarf wrapped about her and began singing about her cookies. They were magical cookies she had decided, and she talked with me at great length about this, peppering our conversation about belief and magic with outbursts of glorious song. “This is just the best day,” she told me. I had reverted to weeding the front flower bed while she sang to me and was now covered in wretched grass pollen that made me feel as I was on fire. “Yes, it is a beautiful day,” I told her, “and I’m going to go inside and relax for a minute or two.”

I washed off and laid down for a little while. I was not in the best of moods, regardless of my delightful daughter, regardless of how the rain came up while we were cooking in our outdoor kitchen, a sudden breeze wafting over us, regardless of the peonies, geraniums, and borage I had picked from my garden and set on the table earlier. Sometimes we are just in a foul mood, no matter what beauty befalls us.

So I went to the garden, chiding myself as I transplanted collards and basil and rhubarb, the last of which I put at the back of the garden where it could grow big and unfettered and perhaps form a sort of border against the weeds that inevitably encroach upon my garden.  I checked on my lettuces, which are doing swimmingly well, and my broccoli, which is looking good.  My tomatoes were stunted by a late frost but are coming back.  And I still have more tomatoes to put in the garden.  Also in the ground are potatoes and onions.  And the beans I planted a few days ago.  So maybe things aren’t so off in the garden department.  And the peonies are blooming.  What could be better than that for a May afternoon?

Flowers in the Outdoor Kitchen

Spring Wildflowers by the River

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Renee found this trout lily for me, and surrounded it with sticks and precious rocks she found in the river so that I could take this picture.
And finding the first Bluets of Spring always thrills me!  Such small and delightful flowers, always blooming in happy bunches.

a day of advancements

I’ve been trying to find ways to get my kids to write.
I remember as an elementary-aged girl, I would write and write and write.  In second grade I got to write my first book report, in which I mostly rewrote the whole book.  I remember this clearly.  The book was, “A Pony for the Winter,” [...]

the good life: cookies and a warm studio

Dinner tonight was, well, hardly.  We ate a lot of cookies first. Then Renee did do a bang up job on some devilled eggs (twenty-four to be precise).  And we had all eaten some of  Alex’s  cabbage potato stew earlier, for a perfect late-afternoon-early-dinner.   So there was plenty to eat, but we didn’t all [...]

work in progress, progress in work

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Two weeks ago I was scheduled to attend an art market, but my plans were thwarted by a minor emergency.  It’s quite true that, emergency or not,  my creative endeavors are often thwarted–by sick children or a busy husband or my own lack of energy–and that this has been a source of ongoing conflict in [...]