Spring cleaning
Hello there. Spring is truly here, to prove it, my spring cleaning urge is totally gone. I finished the last grating task on my list, getting rid of the mass of clutter in the girls’ room. It took a few hours of solitude and a little Prairie Home Companion to keep me going. Keith took the girls to Kempsey to visit Mary and the retired residents in her facility for morning tea. I was able to sneak out the give away items and get rid of the trash just as they came down the hill. I become perhaps more attached to the girls’ things than they do because almost everything they have is a gift from someone we love. I remember the history of each item, but also know we can not keep it all and someone else would make better use of certain beloved blankets, clothes and toys. So the dwindling down of the bedroom is actually quite emotional, but also feels good, freeing, creating space to breathe, imagine, move and play. To preserve a few beloved items longer I have decided to make Genevieve a quilt of all of our favorite little clothes that both girls wore. I have also found a few blankets that are close enough in size to sew together and turn them into a big girl blanket. And I wonder why Jacinta has trouble letting go of things…
There are millions of tasks that should have been on my mental spring cleaning list, but alas, they didn’t make the cut. The windows are better off dirty and full of spider webs to catch flies and mosquitoes and to deter birds from flying into them only to end up with broken necks. Yet another beautiful bald headed pigeon slammed into the window and died this week. The girls always put a flower on the birdie’s body as we bury them. These birds are bigger than our bantam chickens, it’s a wonder we don’t cook them up and eat them instead of some other source of protein on our plate. Keith says people used to eat them. Speaking of chickens, we have two more laying hens now, a gift from another friend. Now we have five laying hens and fourteen free loaders The eggs are lovely, the girls love to find them each afternoon. If Genevieve gets there first she usually cracks one or two, which makes Jedda the dog happy. The chicks are still nice to hold, but very jumpy now.
The area around the chook pen used to be really dangerous, with scraps of jagged metal lying around, planks of wood with protruding nails in piles, scraps of chicken wire lying around and long weeds. Keith dug his heels in and really cleaned up a lot of the mess this week, inspired by his upcoming holiday to South Australia. (He and Mary left yesterday on their big road trip). Matt just finished up the major work on the cellar so he too was able to tick off one of his big tasks, and also get rid of one more danger zone. This weekend Matt ran on the clean up energy further cleaning up the yard, burning off more old vines, sticks, weeds and useless scraps of wood. He is preparing to enlarge and reorganize his tool shed which necessitated a major clean up. Jacinta has always strayed away from these danger zones, but Genevieve is a different child. She is not that firm on her feet yet but is drawn to the danger zones, out of mere curiosity. This weeks’ progress was amazing, especially because it was unexpected.
Any bit of garden progress is unexpected. I set my expectations pretty low given my status as a novice gardener. This way I am pleased with the smallest of things. All of the citrus trees are setting fruit at the moment. The heaven-scented flower petals are dropping off, leaving behind tiny green balls which will grow into limes, lemons and oranges. The two plum trees and one nectarine tree are loaded with fruit, just ripening up. The nectarines should only be another couple of weeks, and the plums will follow shortly after. Jacinta and Genevieve could give a more accurate account on ripeness because they eat a fruit off of each tree each day, just to taste the hint of sweetness and how it gets sweeter every day. Jacinta says she won’t mind if she doesn’t get many ripe nectarines, at least she is beating the fruit fly to them! True.
The terrace garden strawberries took an extra month to get going, but they are finally ready and are the biggest ones yet. I have a lovely patch right outside my bedroom window, but the turkeys steal them when they are still white. They are also back at their old tricks, digging up freshly planted seeds and seedlings. This has made turkey chasing a fun and acceptable activity for the girls and I. Today I planted a patch of corn, but had to cover the seeds with oyster netting to prevent rat, turkey and toddler damage. The garden is at a really exciting, tempting stage. There is a lot of space because the seedlings are all small, little cucumber, bean, potato and tomato plants everywhere. The empty looking dirt makes me want to plant more, but I will try to resist. I want a little bit of everything, but certainly masses of peppers, melons and tomatoes. Today while Matt took the girls out to Bellwood (park/beach), I had time to dream, mulch, plant corn, create a few new teepees for tomatoes and beans to climb, and actually dig through a few weeds and discover young seedlings. Spring is a very hopeful time, I can just see these plants two feet high in a few months. I can see my girls playing hide and seek in between the 30 corn stalks that might be taller than them by December. My mom has always smiled remembering playing in the corn as a little girl. I remember running through corn fields in Montana, Brittany (France), and corn mazes in Michigan and I sure smile thinking of these times. Our girls may also smile looking back in a couple decades. I’d better find a way to make it grow like my Grandma did!
I remember visiting my grandparents as a child and trying out farm life for a week at a time. A week never did it, I was always on the outside. I remember the rodeo and the auction, I never understood. I enjoyed myself no doubt, but I couldn’t really appreciate the beauty of it because I did not belong. Now I go to the local showground a few times a year for different festivals: Pro-Ag, the Macksville Show (Fair), and the Dexter Cattle Show. I see my cousins in the proud teenagers caring for and showing the cattle, horses and sheep and I think I understand now. What a treat to grow up doing something from childhood that you know you can do as a useful trade for the rest of your life, if you so choose. Certainly many of them will go to the city and do something else, but they have that light in them, that pride, the ability to handle massive, mysterious animals and make a living off the land because their parents taught them. They know something about the land on which they live. I had a lot of pride as a teenager, but it was not a pride in home. It was a pride that I thought came from me, myself and I. We all prided ourselves on being accepted by our peers, being different from our parents and siblings, finding our own path, not following anyone, getting good enough grades, doing well in sports, and being confident enough to leave our home town and find a much “cooler” place to get a college education and study something that would make us happy and/or wealthy.
Perhaps these strong-looking teenagers at the showground want the very same things I wanted and maybe they want to leave town as soon as they finish high school. I won’t know until my girls get there. But in any case, I like the little town fairs here, I like belonging. We went to two on Saturday, “Back to Bowra” and “Pro-Ag.” In Bowraville we saw “billy cart races,” which are like little go carts with no motor that get pushed down a hill to see which child rolls to fastest. Jacinta said she will do it next year. We watched the parade down the main street: the Rainbow Serpent (worn by fifteen adults hiding underneath the brightly colored cloth snake body), local clubs on floats, horses, old tractors, and children walking on stilts. We saw men and little girls break boards in a Tai Kwon Do show and a belly dancing show, which inspired Jess and Evie to get up and dance. Bowraville has a strong aboriginal population so councilman Martin welcomed us all to Gumbaynggir country and lead a few traditional dances. Genevieve was a little frightened for some reason. Jacinta innocently asked, “Mommy, why is that man just wearing big red undies?” She didn’t ask about the paint all over their bodies. Nor was she startled by the large women belly dancing, she was just entranced by the beauty of the dance. Dancing is so liberating, I just wish we didn’t stand around spectating. Don’t you think more dancing would do us all some good?
We saw a little black lamb get sheared at Pro Ag, even took home a pile of his wool. We chatted to the solar power people and found out about solar hot water heaters. They seem to be the first step in solar power, meaning the most affordable and most effective at reducing your electricity bill. We watched a magic show with the girls: card tricks, silly jokes, rabbits in hats and all that jazz. Following the show Troppo Bob let the children hold his baby bunnies. Jacinta held on to one black bunny for about ten minutes while she waited patiently for her balloon creature. Genevieve requested a pink fish, but Bob didn’t hear and said, “How about a doggy?” “Yes,” Genevieve replied. At every twist of the balloon, she gently tried to take the balloon. She finally got her doggy and loved it so much she bit and popped him before we made it home. That evening I asked Jacinta what she remembered most about her day and she said, “Holding the fuzzy wool and holding the soft black bunny.” I guess she values her sense of touch like I value my sense of smell.
Matt likes to play around with Jacinta. I think it’s his role in a house full of girls, my dad did the same. Last night Matt asked, “Jacinta, do you have three noses?” After a few years of stupid questions she gave it back to him. She didn’t merely laugh and say, “dad-deeeee.” Her reply was quick and well thought out, “If you come out of someone’s belly, and they only have one nose – that’s how many noses you have. How many noses do you have Daddy?”
This week I wish I did not have a nose, but only a big soft heart to take care of little Evie with her middle of the night stomach flu. I’m sure Matt would agree as he has done most of the clean up. She is her normal cute mischievous self by day, but poor little Genevieve has vomited in the middle of the night, for the last three nights. After she vomits, she is chatty and happy, but wants to go back to bed. Last night, in the cutest, most pathetic voice she could muster, she said, “Hurts…” I asked her what hurt and she said, “Bewwy, Bewwy hurts.” We think she may be through it, fingers crossed. Just as I typed that last sentence, she awoke and needed a nappy change, no vomit. So far so good.
With me getting over my cold and Genevieve with her stomach flu, we have been laying pretty low. I tried to relax at night and actually wanted to watch movies. Matt discovered a good way to convince me to watch West Wing with him: a free shoulder massage. I’ll take any bribe for a back rub. Matt was home Monday and Tuesday which was wonderful for my healing. Jacinta got him to take her to preschool AND pick her up, a big treat to have daddy at preschool.
The girls continue their journey learning how to share space, share attention and appreciate each other. One success is taking turns, Evie repeats over and over until she gets what she wants, “Evie tuhn?” She likes short turns, and will give back the coveted object within a second of receiving it, but then expects it to return just as quickly if she sweetly asks, “Evie tuhn?” Jacinta, as a result of manners drilled into her head, will not give Evie anything if she does not say “please,” and then encourages her to say thank you, which she does. They are very funny, Matt and I find ourselves laughing often at the girls, which feels great.
All is well out here. I can hear a rodent attempting to sneak in the front door, ick. I shall leave you and try to discourage the intruder. Good night.
Peace,
Shana
There are millions of tasks that should have been on my mental spring cleaning list, but alas, they didn’t make the cut. The windows are better off dirty and full of spider webs to catch flies and mosquitoes and to deter birds from flying into them only to end up with broken necks. Yet another beautiful bald headed pigeon slammed into the window and died this week. The girls always put a flower on the birdie’s body as we bury them. These birds are bigger than our bantam chickens, it’s a wonder we don’t cook them up and eat them instead of some other source of protein on our plate. Keith says people used to eat them. Speaking of chickens, we have two more laying hens now, a gift from another friend. Now we have five laying hens and fourteen free loaders The eggs are lovely, the girls love to find them each afternoon. If Genevieve gets there first she usually cracks one or two, which makes Jedda the dog happy. The chicks are still nice to hold, but very jumpy now.
The area around the chook pen used to be really dangerous, with scraps of jagged metal lying around, planks of wood with protruding nails in piles, scraps of chicken wire lying around and long weeds. Keith dug his heels in and really cleaned up a lot of the mess this week, inspired by his upcoming holiday to South Australia. (He and Mary left yesterday on their big road trip). Matt just finished up the major work on the cellar so he too was able to tick off one of his big tasks, and also get rid of one more danger zone. This weekend Matt ran on the clean up energy further cleaning up the yard, burning off more old vines, sticks, weeds and useless scraps of wood. He is preparing to enlarge and reorganize his tool shed which necessitated a major clean up. Jacinta has always strayed away from these danger zones, but Genevieve is a different child. She is not that firm on her feet yet but is drawn to the danger zones, out of mere curiosity. This weeks’ progress was amazing, especially because it was unexpected.
Any bit of garden progress is unexpected. I set my expectations pretty low given my status as a novice gardener. This way I am pleased with the smallest of things. All of the citrus trees are setting fruit at the moment. The heaven-scented flower petals are dropping off, leaving behind tiny green balls which will grow into limes, lemons and oranges. The two plum trees and one nectarine tree are loaded with fruit, just ripening up. The nectarines should only be another couple of weeks, and the plums will follow shortly after. Jacinta and Genevieve could give a more accurate account on ripeness because they eat a fruit off of each tree each day, just to taste the hint of sweetness and how it gets sweeter every day. Jacinta says she won’t mind if she doesn’t get many ripe nectarines, at least she is beating the fruit fly to them! True.
The terrace garden strawberries took an extra month to get going, but they are finally ready and are the biggest ones yet. I have a lovely patch right outside my bedroom window, but the turkeys steal them when they are still white. They are also back at their old tricks, digging up freshly planted seeds and seedlings. This has made turkey chasing a fun and acceptable activity for the girls and I. Today I planted a patch of corn, but had to cover the seeds with oyster netting to prevent rat, turkey and toddler damage. The garden is at a really exciting, tempting stage. There is a lot of space because the seedlings are all small, little cucumber, bean, potato and tomato plants everywhere. The empty looking dirt makes me want to plant more, but I will try to resist. I want a little bit of everything, but certainly masses of peppers, melons and tomatoes. Today while Matt took the girls out to Bellwood (park/beach), I had time to dream, mulch, plant corn, create a few new teepees for tomatoes and beans to climb, and actually dig through a few weeds and discover young seedlings. Spring is a very hopeful time, I can just see these plants two feet high in a few months. I can see my girls playing hide and seek in between the 30 corn stalks that might be taller than them by December. My mom has always smiled remembering playing in the corn as a little girl. I remember running through corn fields in Montana, Brittany (France), and corn mazes in Michigan and I sure smile thinking of these times. Our girls may also smile looking back in a couple decades. I’d better find a way to make it grow like my Grandma did!
I remember visiting my grandparents as a child and trying out farm life for a week at a time. A week never did it, I was always on the outside. I remember the rodeo and the auction, I never understood. I enjoyed myself no doubt, but I couldn’t really appreciate the beauty of it because I did not belong. Now I go to the local showground a few times a year for different festivals: Pro-Ag, the Macksville Show (Fair), and the Dexter Cattle Show. I see my cousins in the proud teenagers caring for and showing the cattle, horses and sheep and I think I understand now. What a treat to grow up doing something from childhood that you know you can do as a useful trade for the rest of your life, if you so choose. Certainly many of them will go to the city and do something else, but they have that light in them, that pride, the ability to handle massive, mysterious animals and make a living off the land because their parents taught them. They know something about the land on which they live. I had a lot of pride as a teenager, but it was not a pride in home. It was a pride that I thought came from me, myself and I. We all prided ourselves on being accepted by our peers, being different from our parents and siblings, finding our own path, not following anyone, getting good enough grades, doing well in sports, and being confident enough to leave our home town and find a much “cooler” place to get a college education and study something that would make us happy and/or wealthy.
Perhaps these strong-looking teenagers at the showground want the very same things I wanted and maybe they want to leave town as soon as they finish high school. I won’t know until my girls get there. But in any case, I like the little town fairs here, I like belonging. We went to two on Saturday, “Back to Bowra” and “Pro-Ag.” In Bowraville we saw “billy cart races,” which are like little go carts with no motor that get pushed down a hill to see which child rolls to fastest. Jacinta said she will do it next year. We watched the parade down the main street: the Rainbow Serpent (worn by fifteen adults hiding underneath the brightly colored cloth snake body), local clubs on floats, horses, old tractors, and children walking on stilts. We saw men and little girls break boards in a Tai Kwon Do show and a belly dancing show, which inspired Jess and Evie to get up and dance. Bowraville has a strong aboriginal population so councilman Martin welcomed us all to Gumbaynggir country and lead a few traditional dances. Genevieve was a little frightened for some reason. Jacinta innocently asked, “Mommy, why is that man just wearing big red undies?” She didn’t ask about the paint all over their bodies. Nor was she startled by the large women belly dancing, she was just entranced by the beauty of the dance. Dancing is so liberating, I just wish we didn’t stand around spectating. Don’t you think more dancing would do us all some good?
We saw a little black lamb get sheared at Pro Ag, even took home a pile of his wool. We chatted to the solar power people and found out about solar hot water heaters. They seem to be the first step in solar power, meaning the most affordable and most effective at reducing your electricity bill. We watched a magic show with the girls: card tricks, silly jokes, rabbits in hats and all that jazz. Following the show Troppo Bob let the children hold his baby bunnies. Jacinta held on to one black bunny for about ten minutes while she waited patiently for her balloon creature. Genevieve requested a pink fish, but Bob didn’t hear and said, “How about a doggy?” “Yes,” Genevieve replied. At every twist of the balloon, she gently tried to take the balloon. She finally got her doggy and loved it so much she bit and popped him before we made it home. That evening I asked Jacinta what she remembered most about her day and she said, “Holding the fuzzy wool and holding the soft black bunny.” I guess she values her sense of touch like I value my sense of smell.
Matt likes to play around with Jacinta. I think it’s his role in a house full of girls, my dad did the same. Last night Matt asked, “Jacinta, do you have three noses?” After a few years of stupid questions she gave it back to him. She didn’t merely laugh and say, “dad-deeeee.” Her reply was quick and well thought out, “If you come out of someone’s belly, and they only have one nose – that’s how many noses you have. How many noses do you have Daddy?”
This week I wish I did not have a nose, but only a big soft heart to take care of little Evie with her middle of the night stomach flu. I’m sure Matt would agree as he has done most of the clean up. She is her normal cute mischievous self by day, but poor little Genevieve has vomited in the middle of the night, for the last three nights. After she vomits, she is chatty and happy, but wants to go back to bed. Last night, in the cutest, most pathetic voice she could muster, she said, “Hurts…” I asked her what hurt and she said, “Bewwy, Bewwy hurts.” We think she may be through it, fingers crossed. Just as I typed that last sentence, she awoke and needed a nappy change, no vomit. So far so good.
With me getting over my cold and Genevieve with her stomach flu, we have been laying pretty low. I tried to relax at night and actually wanted to watch movies. Matt discovered a good way to convince me to watch West Wing with him: a free shoulder massage. I’ll take any bribe for a back rub. Matt was home Monday and Tuesday which was wonderful for my healing. Jacinta got him to take her to preschool AND pick her up, a big treat to have daddy at preschool.
The girls continue their journey learning how to share space, share attention and appreciate each other. One success is taking turns, Evie repeats over and over until she gets what she wants, “Evie tuhn?” She likes short turns, and will give back the coveted object within a second of receiving it, but then expects it to return just as quickly if she sweetly asks, “Evie tuhn?” Jacinta, as a result of manners drilled into her head, will not give Evie anything if she does not say “please,” and then encourages her to say thank you, which she does. They are very funny, Matt and I find ourselves laughing often at the girls, which feels great.
All is well out here. I can hear a rodent attempting to sneak in the front door, ick. I shall leave you and try to discourage the intruder. Good night.
Peace,
Shana
posted by Matt & Shana & Jacinta & Genevieve Henry at
11:43 PM
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