Crocodiles and airplanes

Good evening kind souls. I hope you saw the beautiful full moon a few nights ago. I wonder if you see the full moon the night fourteen hours before or after we see it, probably after. You’d think I would have gone out and done some work by its brilliant light, but I was pretty lazy in the garden this week. Most of my week was spent socializing and playing with the girls.

Jacinta’s imagination has exploded, with blankets and pillows as her most trusted tools. For a few weeks, she was playing “kangaroos.” The kangaroos slept on blankets, woke up, ate, and went to sleep over and over. This week the blankets became crocodiles, “a big daddy crocodile.” The crocodile is so big we can all lie down, sleep and play on him. He is also one of our methods of transport to get from Australia to America. Most often we play airplanes. At first we had to be sitting on the couch to play. We spent all of our time ordering interesting juice combinations and meals, following Jacinta’s lead. When I grew tired of sitting on the couch, crowded by the mountains of pillows and blankets, the plane grew. Jacinta, in her efforts to continue the game, decided that our whole house could be the plane. We waited for the seatbelt sign to go off before we got up and used the luxurious airplane bathroom. Genevieve had a hard time following the rules. We played in the airplane’s bedroom, and even fed the chickens on the plane. Our final destination was always a friend or family member in the US. I proposed France or Senegal a few times, but Jacinta was heading for the US. The other day she decided that “daddy’s going to Africa with his friends on a separate plane.” She asked the other day when we’d be going to Africa. When we win the lottery, I suppose that means we need to start playing!

Back in the “real” world outside her imagination, I took Jacinta and her five closest friends to “France” the other day. But it looked strangely familiar, a lot like our little property on the east coast of Australia. I spoke in French only and lead them around the dam running, jumping, walking carefully, dancing, yelling, whispering and of course, flying. They responded as I expected, well, as I hoped. As young children still blessed with a beautiful unquestioning sense of awe, they silently joined me in “French land” never speaking a word unless it was mimicking exactly what I said or sang. Not once was I asked to translate or explain what exactly I meant, but a few times I busted into English to reassure them. They were patient, just knowing that comprehension would probably come if they paid attention, especially in the hiding games. The only deliberately disobedient child was my own, running far away after I had given the command to stop. “Arretez!” I yelled over and over, crumbling inside with the fear that the other children would come out of their trance given my own child’s example. Eventually her nervous friends convinced her to come back. It was obvious which of the children had never been in an organized group before. (Jacinta will be starting pre-school in January). I am eager to see how we progress, never having taught such young children. The youngest I had in classes in Michigan were six or seven years old. So far it looks like three year olds can do it too, given space to run and learn simultaneously. I would also dare to guess that given five acres to run and learn, perhaps even my most stubborn first grade boys would have enjoyed French class.

I also led my choir this week. Matt came along to take care of the girls and freed me up to think and direct. After our choir director’s car accident we hadn’t met in a few weeks, so it was just nice to get together, sing and debrief Fiona’s accident a bit. We all brought gifts to make a care package for our beloved choir director and sang our hearts out. I flapped my arms around a bit, pretending I could keep the beat with my hands, but it’s no secret. I may love music and sing pretty well, but I am no conductor. We had fun anyway and even added a few songs to our repertoire. The next day I took the girls out to visit Fiona and bring her gifts. It has been a few weeks since the accident. It was an accident involving a school bus. The road had washed away, the bus slid down a steep hill injuring a few students and the bus driver and killing a seventeen year old girl who was thrown out the window. Fiona lived through a hell that most of us will luckily never experience: holding someone else’s dying child in her arms, knowing the internal bleeding would soon take her life, giving every ounce of energy she had to keep this sweet girl breathing for a long time until an ambulance could reach them in an isolated area. The amazing life force burning in Fiona has been sapped since the death, as you can imagine. She is grieving, mourning and dwelling in the depths of herself. As time passes, she is picking up the pieces. What an intense honour to spend a few hours with a woman I have so admired since we met, and bring my little girls to lighten her load for a few moments.

It feels strange to transition into anything joyful after that. I apologize, but I must drag myself out of that sadness the best way I know how, with sweet little girls. Genevieve, our roly poly, chunky monkey, happy chappy, eager little beaver. Last week she learned to crawl and got a tooth. This week she learned to sit up and crawl quickly. There is no holding her back, she throws her chest around and makes holding her very hard. She is smiling a lot more now and is making cute little sounds, new ones now, as if she is conversing. She loves to hang out in her highchair, munching on whatever she is given: bananas, avocadoes, peppers, hard bread ends, carrots, oats, rice, sweet potatoes, and beans. Evie always ends up looking like a good baby should after a meal, so messy that her big sister won’t even touch her.

Matt is often on baby feeding duty at meal times. He is very neat and efficient. If we slack off though, Evie will let us know that she needs another bite with a miserable grunt. Besides feeding his youngest daughter Matt has been studying, doing paperwork, applying for jobs, working on websites, tickling Jacinta, digging out the root cellar and helping me out fencing.

Fencing, ahh, the never ending task. The orchard has been fenced in as well as it will ever be, unless I can come up with anti-turkey fencing. All of the seeds that I planted directly in the soil have been dug up by those miserable creatures. Also in my evil books are the new black hens. I really have to watch my mouth when I enter the orchard with Jacinta, looking at all of the freshly dug up dirt that will never be left alone long enough to sprout any seeds. Our friends Craig and Anissa came for dinner one evening with their three children, curious how their old black chickens were doing. Craig taught Matt how to clip chicken wings, so now the hens dig under the fence. Thursday I ripped off all of the sticks we used to deter cattle from the terrace garden, finally giving up on the crappy chicken wire and brush covered fence. Friday morning Matt, the girls and I packed up for a hard morning fencing. Matt did most of the work, but I can still say “he helped me,” because he let me make the decisions. Tricky, aye? Jacinta was still on the “airplane,” but she helped by picking strawberries, entertaining Genevieve and throwing chunks of clay into the dam. Evie helped by napping, eating dirt and celery and trying to roll down from terrace to terrace. In the end, we fenced in the terrace garden with the same the heavy duty wire the orchard has and enlarged the garden. Matt changed the location of the gate making it much easier to manoeuvre with a baby in one hand. By this time, the sun was very hot and the little girls were tired. So we left Matt to finish, cleaned up, went to town to buy pies and pasties for lunch. This is a task I’ve been yearning to do for over six months.

With that done, it feels like enough accomplishment for a while. So I celebrated and took the girls to the beach today. Matt stayed home, dug a massive hole, did the dishes and eventually got to watch football. I feel like I got the better option, but he is just as happy with his lot today. Jacinta has the stomach flu, so she is a bit down. Genevieve’s silly attempts to climb up her big sister can still make her laugh though. I’m expecting a long night with the girls so I’ll leave you all, wishing you a lovely week.

Peace,
Shana

The cup and the playdough necklace

Hi there loved ones. It has been an eventful week, full of newness. As you will have notice, I have become less and less aware of all things political and worldly as time goes by out here in the country. My eventfulness is totally ignorant of Iraq, Israel and Palestine, the United States, wars all over the world, and elections in both the US and Australia. Vaguely, I know that both of these elections are near and very important. Australia’s new prime minister will have to be elected by the end of this year. I’ll dare to guess that the numbers of dead Iraqis, Americans and others involved continue to grow as the war of “liberation” drags on. I know that wars worldwide continue as people struggle for power or just to survive, thinking that destroying the “others” might give them a better life, or keep them alive for just a few more years. I know that many millions, maybe even billions of children and adults will go to bed very hungry tonight. Many others will go to bed sad, lonely, defeated, hopeless, angry, or in pain. I know the earth is deteriorating faster than it has before. Is the earth sad? Can she feel pain? Who can know?

These depressing facts used to dominate my thoughts and actions. They cloaked me in guilt, constantly. How could I be born into such wealth and joy, when so many others were born into war, hunger and poverty? My mom made me a very optimistic little girl, luckily. So I could go on, even with this guilty conscience, quite happily. Although I wondered how everyone else could live so guilt free knowing about all of the misery our “economic freedom” was costing the earth, the poorer majority of humans, and the other animals. I questioned parents who dropped out of political life and surrendered to complete consumer culture for the sake of their children. “What an example,” I thought, “no wonder children have so little interest in political, social and environmental issues.” I couldn’t understand how people could just allow the war on Afghanistan and Iraq to happen in our name, having so little real evidence to justify the violence and risk.

Well, here I am folks, just a few years older with the understanding of how we can let it all happen. We take it in, we file it away in our brains, our souls, and adjust our lives accordingly. We have perhaps learned that standing in line at a protest isn’t going to stop a war. Or perhaps that dwelling on all the world’s nastiness doesn’t make for good dinner conversation with your three year old. Hanging around with small children who ask “why” every third word doesn’t leave much time to talk about how to stop a war, especially when you don’t want them knowing about war, murder, hate or real fear just yet. I’m one who has to learn by my own mistakes, so standing out in the cold New York streets in February to “stop the war” was worth it, a few years ago. Of course it didn’t change US policy, but taught me that smaller actions might be more effective, for me at least.

Our eventful week all took place right here in one little town. The guilt and judgement I used to feel has been transformed into love and small community focus. Am I stopping a war, feeding the hungry, or helping out sad and lonely people? No. I used to feel their pain so directly that I would refuse myself luxuries on their behalf and resent others living in luxury for this reason. My Senegalese friend Khady wisely informed me that my deprivation isn’t making anyone in pain feel any better. Those of us that make the choice to live simply might seem a bit silly or even pretentious to those who are forced to live simply. I still enjoy life without too much luxury but in letting go of the guilt I have also released a lot of judgement which makes me lighter, freer to enjoy people and things.

We all do what we can: this is something I could say before but didn’t really believe. I held myself to an ideal, it was all or nothing. How funny to believe I could do the “all” I idealized! I suppose that’s why I held onto the guilt so tightly. I am honestly satisfied with less than my ideal now, or maybe it’s more that my ideal is changing. It has been a combination of wiser, older men and women over the years that have finally helped me to grow up and stop holding myself and others to some unattainable goal of living completely cruelty free on this earth. As if I know how to do such a thing anyway! We are all trying in our own way: maybe reducing gas consumption, buying local products when they are available, avoiding products from distasteful nations and corporations, growing vegetables, reaching out to people in need, working in schools or with the elderly, recycling, reusing things, feeding the birds, planting trees on roadsides, or meditating on the crickets. The list goes on and on. In learning to appreciate every little effort each of us make, I can stop being such a silent critic of myself and others. The expression “don’t throw the baby out with the bath water,” makes more sense now than ever. Life seems a lot sweeter these days, even with the knowledge of unfathomable suffering. Maybe it comes with turning 30, probably not, but I finally feel like I’m ageing and I really like it.

A good friend from Michigan wrote the other day that “I love this part of my life. I’ve have liked most stages, but this is definitely one of the top!” Well said Carrie. Matt and I have been trying to teach Jacinta that her job as a three year old is to play, have fun, and learn how to be a kind person to the earth, the animals and all people. Our job is to teach her how to be this kind person and to keep on learning how to be kind people to the earth, the animals and all people. It may be through tantrums that this learning takes place, perhaps that’s why this is a necessary stage of life. She was surprised when she heard that we learn from her too. Since then she has been overtly trying to teach me songs and how to do her tricks (jumping off the couch and bed). Genevieve continues to remind me to stop being efficient and just gaze at her beauty and curiosity. I honestly can’t imagine a more joyful time in life than trying to avoid the explanation of how cats make babies to a three year old whilst laughing as your baby grunts at the dinner table trying to poo.

Although I say I’m learning how to stop being efficient to play with my girls, most things we do have a purpose besides pure fun. This week we had great fun playing and getting things done the long slow way. Our couch pillows were too fat so Jess and I opened them up and pulled out half of the stuffing. We made a huge mess. Jacinta was giddy playing in the foam, jumping, dancing and throwing it, but somehow in a controlled fashion. Genevieve did pretty well in not eating too much of it, she was mostly in awe, perhaps that she was actually mobile in such a mess. In the past she would have only been able to watch and wish she could join in but now she can crawl! Eventually I sewed them up. The foam is still stuck in the carpet but it was worth it.

Whenever I cook now, Jacinta asks, “Can I help you cook mom?” What a question. We baked bread, made macadamia butter, granola, salads, quiche, even macadamia crackers. We have a great time creating in the kitchen. Genevieve joins us either on the floor playing with little pots or sitting in her chair chewing on whole apples or carrots. Her little tooth is becoming more prominent. It’s funny how strange it looks, as if she should remain toothless forever. She can actually make a dent in the hard food she is given for teething. If it is just before dinner, she is usually tired, hungry and needs more attention so Matt often jumps in or she rides around on my back.

I have been spending a fair bit of time in the garden with the girls. Usually Evie starts out riding around on my back, then falls asleep after a while. I let her sleep in her stroller while Jacinta and I garden. Inevitably, she wakes up after a very short nap and wants to join us. I have given in, I just put her down in the dirt now. She is in heaven, crawling from interesting texture to texture, touching and tasting. Every few minutes I wipe out her mouth and redirect her away from inedible plants, sharp sticks or ants. Jacinta enjoys the garden if she resigns herself to the fact that we’ll be there for a long time. She likes to munch on borage flowers and celery, and of course the rare strawberry. She used to whine to go back inside for food, or perhaps because I was too task oriented. I am learning to stop and play, and bring snacks, blankets, toys and make a day of it. It is through this discovery that I accomplished so much in the garden this week. We planted carrots, beets, cucumbers, potatoes, cabbage, asparagus, artichokes, pumpkin, watermelons, cantaloupe, basil, zucchini and arugula. We even fed the trees and the plants compost, this is something I usually forget. I expect the poor plants to survive on water alone. This year, I feel like I’m actually taking ownership of my garden and doing the work, rather than waiting for someone else to show up and help me. I went as far as chicken wiring the orchard by lamplight this week, for lack of time in the sunlit hours of the day. It was nice out under the stars.

One day I needed an outing so we packed up a stroller and food for the day. We set off towards the river and the wetlands on our neighbor’s land. This was a day with no goal in mind, just fun. Jacinta packed her cricket set, so on one of our stops we had a game. We talked to the cows, played word games, threw fallen tree buds into the river, rolled down hills, had morning tea, and swatted mosquitoes. Evie watched the cows with wide eyes, rolled around when we stopped, napped, and had a nice time. Being outside, with no confusion as to what she would do next or with whom or what she would play Jacinta was more peaceful than usual. I’m sure that having my complete attention played its part too. She actually fell asleep on the picnic blanket at lunch. I thought she was just gazing at the wind in the trees because she was still swatting mosquitoes, but she had fallen asleep with her knee in her plate. Amazing. She didn’t even deny it when she awoke, just wondered where her food had gone. The following day she almost did the same thing, but Keith came down to visit in the garden so the sleepy energy was lost. Who wouldn’t fall asleep given a full belly and a blanket under a shady tree?

It is spring, so it’s not too hot yet, just dry and windy. We have a nice sprinkler now so watering the gardens is no drama. The dam is fuller than ever so we can water as much as we like. Spring is such an inviting season, bringing you out into the hopeful, blooming air. Bees are buzzing loudly in the flowering trees. But living in a land with snakes and spiders will make any American city girl a bit wary of letting her guard down outside, rightly so. But I have been here almost two years now. I finally feel educated about these dangers. I know what to look for, to listen for and what to do if I spot one of these dangerous creatures. I have seen a brown snake, different varieties of pythons, and finally the red belly black snake. The snakes to worry about are the browns and the red belly black snakes. Before this spring, I’d not seen either on our land, but the less dangerous of the two have found their way into my world, the red belly blacks. Now that Jacinta and I have seen them, we know when to go back up to the house. We could just walk by and leave it alone, but for now we are trying to teach Jacinta to be very wary of any snake. As she grows older, she can just walk away. Strangely enough I actually feel more comfortable now, stronger, knowing how to identify them and avoid them, rather than keeping the mystery locked up and far off in some other place.

I am also more comfortable in my health, the pink eye gone, cold gone. I am a tad bit cold sitting here wide awake at 3am, listening to the rooster crow. I went to bed too early and woke up for Jacinta who had a nightmare and Genevieve who needed some milk. Besides the newness of each day with young children, I am launching into many new projects this week. Just today Matt and I took the girls to our first food co-op potluck and we began planning how we will use our collective buying and growing power to obtain good earth and body friendly food for our families. Tuesday I will fill in for our choir director as she gets through hard times following a nasty car accident. Wednesday I will start teaching Jacinta and five of her friends through games and songs outside, running, playing and singing in French. I am preparing to sell some baked goods at a local market with some of my friends in a few weeks. I feel like I’m tying a link between my old occupations in Michigan and my new life here as a mom in Australia. My brain is enjoying the challenge, it was getting lazy. Leading people besides my two little girls is something I used to enjoy and probably still do. It feels familiar, yet I am at a new place in life now.

We’re all in a new place in life, every day, it seems silly to even mention it. Nothing stands still. We may wish it would, but it doesn’t. Matt had a very different week this week to last. He got calls from a Catholic school in Kempsey three days in a row for substitute teaching, so off he went. On Thursday he drove out to Coffs Harbour to pick up a used fireplace, and overheated in Keith’s truck. Although I wasn’t there, he seemed reasonably peaceful about the whole experience. Someone stopped and gave him water to fix the problem and eventually he was on his way. Luckily, he was not on his way to work. He made a new garden gate for the shed and orchard, a secret hope I had for a while. It’s great when you learn to deal with something difficult and all of the sudden, it becomes easy. After weeks of research and planning, he began building the deck. It will soon be a wrap around veranda with a cellar beneath, I can’t even imagine how nice it will be.

It’s pleasant being in my non-spatial mind, not being able to picture structures from verbal descriptions. Then one day, all of the sudden, he quietly builds something. I rejoice in his creativity and hard work while he rejoices in my work with the girls and with food. We appreciate each other, and have separate roles. I used to refute gender roles, but somehow I have found my way loving the very things women have been doing for ages all around the world. It’s funny how we age. Just yesterday Evie pulled the very cup down off the island, the one I had guessed she was dreaming about. It fell on her head and made her cry. Jacinta made a necklace out of play dough beads the other day at playgroup. She thoughtfully put it on as we prepared to go and check out a preschool and said, “I’m going to wear this necklace, so the kids will think I’m…….cute.” We are all growing.

Have a great week y’all. Have fun growing and enjoy the eventfulness of whatever life interests you.

Kangaroos and deer

“What are you going to dream about tonight Jacinta?” Matt asked. “Kangaroos and deer (pronounced dee-ah) …playing together,” came the response. These animals are slightly similar, in their grazing habits, size, colour, travelling in families, and their unfortunate likelihood of ending up as road kill. I don’t think Jacinta has contemplated all of this, but perhaps just a nice wish to have Australia and America become the same land where we can all live together. Last week she pretended to play with a few of her closest Michigan friends. She took it so far as to disobey me because her friends’ mom had “told” her to continue doing what she was doing. I really am pleased with the development of her imagination, even if it takes her this far.

Lately each night when asked what she wants to dream about or in the morning asked what she dreamt about, she will say Genevieve. Whether a three year old can consciously remember her dreams, I don’t know, but it is sweet to know what she wants in her dreams, in those precious sleepy hours of solitude.

Genevieve, our wakeful sweetheart, I bet she dreams about all the things she is missing. She dreams about being awake, and somehow wills herself awake, no matter how tired she is. Perhaps she dreams of touching the glasses on the kitchen island, of eating the things on her big sister’s plate, of crawling more than two steps at a time. She can cross the room very quickly now, doing the seal scoot. She has taken to chasing balloons. Balloons are rather difficult to hold onto for a baby and make for a good energy-burning toy. Yes, I know babies should not suck on balloons, I watch her well. She watches me well in return. She takes it all in: grabbing apple blossoms as I check on the apple tree, sticking her face in the dough as I knead dough, watching her big sister’s every move, and tasting everything she can get her little mouth on. This week’s foods include some oats, rice, beans, bananas, avocado, and again, orange vegetables. Evie’s meal times always begin with great anticipation, and end with urgent, tired fists rubbing mashed food into her eyes.

Jacinta’s meal times are also greatly anticipated. She is usually ready to move on to the next meal about one hour after she has finished the last. Thus, if I finally agree that it is time to prepare the food, she will not leave my side. She is ready to help. Her motivation is two-fold: chance of a “sneaky” taste and interest in cooking. It is salad season. Keith and Mary gave the “house garden” a make over and turned it into a beautiful, productive, accessible kitchen garden complete with herbs, lettuce, beets, spinach, onions, carrots, and plenty more. Its proximity inspires me to actually go out and pick things a few minutes before a meal. Jacinta and I have been picking small lettuce, spinach and beet leaves before meals, and she eats them without force! She even cried and had a tantrum because a turkey ate her salad the other day. What parents in their right mind would send a three year old to her room for wanting a salad so badly that she had a tantrum? That would be Matt and I, tantrums are tantrums, but it did feel strange.

I do realize that my daughter’s intensity about food is my fault, and I have to live with it as my penance. Poor Matt, so far there are two food psychos in the house. As I do, Jacinta makes hard line food choices and holds strong to them, come hell or high water. Her most recent food boundary was vegetables: she would only eat them raw. One night I decided I had had enough and would no longer make a separate raw plate for Jacinta. We sat it out. Matt helped us through our battle, with the final result being that Jacinta ate four stir fried veggies. I call them “half cooked,” it’s a pretend compromise. She feels like she’s winning because I say they are half raw, and I feel victory because my cooking options are greater.

Since my return, I have been using plain old supermarket grains. Poor me. Normally I order grains from a local biodynamic farm mill. Local…what is local? I suppose a five hour drive is not so local, but it is my best option for good quality flour, rice and oats. Barbara Kingsolver’s most recent book on eating as a “locavore” for a whole year gave me more insight into what is truly local. She also talks about purchasing those items that do not grow locally from fair trade organizations that pay their labourers a real wage and sustain the earth rather than deplete its resources. Anyhow, this week was the first time I hosted a delivery, and I was lucky enough to meet the farmer/driver. After he left I came straight inside and made some bread to celebrate real whole-wheat flour. Normal flour mills here in Australia must not have the capability to make anything but bromide bleached white flour, stripped of most of its nutrients. Typically, in making white flour, they strip the flour of all of the bran to make it easier to use in baking. It sounds insane, but after they bleach and strip the flour of the bran, they throw back a bit of bran into the flour and sell it as “wholemeal style flour.” This is the closest thing our supermarket has to whole-wheat flour. This reminds me of the way brown sugar is processed here and in America. You would think brown sugar would be less refined than white sugar, but it is not. They strip out a lot from the sugar cane to come up with white sugar, including molasses. After it has been stripped out, they pour some of the molasses back in, to make brown sugar. Oh, how I can stray from my point…the bread was lovely. Since I’ve been back I am trying to make all of my own bread. So far, so good.

It will take years before we can endeavour to eat mostly local, and I am at peace with this. I am learning how to garden, how to make the most of each season, and trying to find enough time to feed the plants so they can feed us. Matt is at a stand still in building our root cellar because the tractor he was using is broken. But frankly, I won’t grow enough food to store for a while. I’m still working on feeding us meal by meal, and not much of it is from the garden. Rightly so, we were away for three months. For now, it is an exciting, hopeful planting time, trusting that all of the weeding will have made way for beautiful produce. Keith helped with much of the hard labour, breaking up hard ground, digging out nasty roots and weeds, leaving the planting for Jess and I. We spent about an hour each day in the garden, planting chickpeas, kidney beans, beets, more carrots, arugula, watermelon, and pumpkin. We searched for strawberries, ate borage flowers and watched the fruit trees progress as they bud and burst into spring. The nectarine tree is covered in tiny fruits, but they may never grow to edible form, the tree is too young. We can only hope. Jacinta has learned that word, and she hopes very earnestly to be eating these nectarines soon!

Rather than working on the root cellar, Matt did odd jobs this week. He worked on rain gutters, painted the screen door and a few barge caps (wind breakers that look like rain gutters) for the top of the house. Jacinta, as usual, helped paint for a few minutes. Matt put a little girl handle on the screen door so she can let herself back in from playing outside, built a little stool for the girls and made an extra shelf in the kitchen. He installed the curtain rod and hung the curtains that Mary and I finally made for the bathroom. They curtains cover up our storage area, making the bathroom more like a bathroom and less like a shed. He put in a small concrete slab on the path from the driveway to our front door, complete with little girl handprints and turkey prints. Keith brought home a few truckloads of macadamia tree branches so they fired up the mulcher after a long vacation from loud machinery and dangerous flying sticks. Matt weed whacked the orchard once again, now we can see the poor little blueberry bush. His wrist has been giving him troubles, but he still tries to do some manual labour each day, whether it hurts or not, hoping the pain will just disappear. To give his wrist a rest, he went to court to enter his plea: not guilty for negligent driving (hitting the kangaroo back in February) and was given a court date in November. He finished the first subject in his new counselling course, and was quite proud of his efficiency. He did some writing, some more research on music publishing, and played with the girls.

I came down with pink eye and my cold flared up again, so Matt tried to occupy Jacinta as much as possible. Genevieve is just getting to the “I need momma” phase, so she’s harder to distract. Although Friday, I had a nap! These are hard to come by now, so they are treasured. Matt took Jacinta to Coff’s Harbour to shop and check out the zoo. They had a sneaky treat, this is a sure thing on an all day outing with Daddy. Although it was supposed to be a “secret,” she excitedly described the process of donut making to Mary and Keith. “They take the dough and drop it in the big little donut making thing, it goes up a big ramp and then drops into a big bowl.” For those of you that have heard Jacinta tell a story, you might imagine the energy building in her voice. You’d think she was going to burst by the time the donut made it to her mouth. “It was still warm, so warm we had to blow on it!” After a long day with a grand lead up to the zoo, they found the zoo had closed down over a year ago. Tears, a twenty minute drive and more tears later, Matt took her to the Dolphin Park and all was well. She fell asleep on the long ride home, and slept so hard that Matt successfully transferred her to her bed for a real nap at home! When she awoke, she denied the nap and said she was just pretending. All the while, I was at home with Genevieve, enjoying silence and time with my little baby, but wondering what was taking Matt and Jacinta so long.

Given the pink eye, you’d think I’d have had another socially isolating week, but I didn’t know I had it for a while. I took the girls swimming at the local pool. We went to playgroup, and also had a visit from my friend Trish. Trish is one of my only friends outside of playgroup. Her generosity, quirky sense of humour, and interest in singing, knitting, other cultures, and food just astound me. I am amazed that I could have found someone with whom I have so much in common in such a small town, not to mention she brings divine food gifts every time she visits.

The girls and I had a lovely day out at Nickolas and Sara’s house. Whenever we drive out to Taylor’s Arm, we stay all day. There is nothing in this town but a pub (albeit the most famous pub in Australia), a general store, a school, and no gas station (I found this out last time when Sara’s partner had to siphon gas out of his water pump to get me home). It’s always a lazy day, lounging around in Sara’s peaceful little home and backyard. Jacinta and Nickolas entertain themselves quite well. They are both stubborn, loud, focused little food lovers. It’s hilarious to watch them play. At one point Nickolas really wanted to play a game, inside, and was determined to convince Jess to join him. She was baking in the sand box. After his first attempt, he just joined her. Later on, he came back inside pleading with Sara to play a game with him. “Go and ask Jacinta to come inside, maybe she’ll be ready now.” Sara and I were inside watching Evie roll around, and after a few minutes heard a very loud ferocious “NOOOO!” We couldn’t determine which obnoxious child had done it, but when Nickolas came in, defeated, we knew. Jacinta was spoken to later about this tone, and eventually came in for a game. Their favourite game seems to be playing in blankets. It’s nice for Jacinta to have someone her own age to play with once in a while. Most often, she enjoys playing with her Pop who is home all week, her little sister, her daddy and I.

This weekend we did a few new things. We took a night hike down towards the wetlands. Jacinta loved playing with her flashlight. It was a new moon and the stars were bright. It was a special family outing, mostly because Jacinta is usually in bed by that time. On Saturday, we took the girls to the closest beach for a walk on the boardwalk. Jacinta brought her tricycle and rode further than she ever has. She’d park her little bike every twenty feet or so, and we’d climb on the painted rocks lining the boardwalk out into the ocean. We watched fishermen and women, and searched for fish in the deep sea below. Matt eventually coaxed Evie to sleep and earned a good nap against a rock once we finally made it to the swimming beach. Jacinta ran up and down the beach, in and out of the shallow waves, skipping happily, more carefree than I have seen her in a while. Eventually Genevieve woke up to join in the fun and crawl around in the sand. She didn’t want to miss out on a meal of sand! It was a beautiful spring day, not warm enough for Matt and I to swim, but just fine for our little girl.

My pink eye is easing off thanks to a combination of some salt water, vitamin C, Echinacea, Olive Leaf Extract, eyebright tea, rest, time and a lot of hand washing. You never know why or how your sicknesses are healed, which herb or drug did it or if it was just time, or maybe intention. But I suppose you just give thanks for wellness and hope that some of your efforts made a difference. Compared to the nasty pink eye I had six years ago, this was a dream. So I’ll give thanks. Another thing worthy of note is that today, Genevieve’s first little tooth broke through her gums, and she truly began crawling. Big day for a little baby!

Have a great week y’all. Hope you don’t catch pink eye through my email!

Peace,
Shana

Do you know, Mr Sun?

Hello there. “Another Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody,” a good song although not entirely true for me. I may be gearing up for another three hours of solitude on the computer, but I could join Matt and Keith watching football if I really wanted some company. I often think of that song when I sit down for my Saturday night ritual, laughing at my old expectations of a Saturday night. All I ask of each day are a few accomplishments besides fun with my girls, cooking meals and cleaning up messes. I expect no less on a Saturday than I do a Monday. It was our first dry day in a while, certainly a laundry day. I also worked with Keith down in the garden for a few hours while Matt played with Evie and Jacinta went to morning tea with Mary. We cleaned up and planted out half of the teepee garden with green mulch: lucerne, mustard, clover and oats. Later on Matt, Jess, Genevieve and I went to visit some friends who just started pig farming. To say the least, pigs are amazing creatures. Watching those piglets attack the sow for milk makes me grateful for my one little baby, but they sure are cute. The pigs make mud by tearing up the ground with their snouts, our boots got stuck in the mud while walking. With these few extra events outside of the daily routine, I feel I did the day justice.

Matt is also very conscious of using his days efficiently. Not having a job presently makes him feel even more of a need to use every hour on productivity. This week he enrolled in a counselling course, received the class materials and began studying the first subject. He applied for a few jobs, and contacted a few more schools about substitute teaching. He is preparing for his court case, getting ready to plead not guilty for having hit the kangaroo back in February. He called around gathering statements and evidence on the insanity of the police charging him $300 for “reckless driving,” all because he called wildlife rescue to check on the kangaroo’s welfare. We can only hope the judge will see a problem in the police’s handling of these unfortunate situations. Matt spent some wet days digging out space for a new root cellar/brewing cellar below our house. He finished making all of the movies with the summer’s photos. Jacinta loves sitting on his lap watching the picture movies. Matt is also looking into music publishing and trying to find a way to make a small income off of some of his songs. He spent a lot of time writing too, although I can’t tell you what. Matt is a bit funny about sharing his writing, or any half-baked thoughts before they are fully cooked, even with me. After nine years of marriage, we can laugh about it now.

We can laugh about a lot of things now, I suppose that’s what starts to happen over the years in a relationship. You slowly learn that you can’t change each other, but that you just have to learn to love and/or deal with each other’s idiosyncrasies. Matt will never love the fact that I lose damn near everything, but he can laugh about it now. Perhaps not at the moment I lose the wallet at the airport, but later. I can’t say I love his silence and reticence to share every little detail about what he thinks and does, but it is familiar, it is him. Rather than feeling left out and injured by it, I just understand and know it has nothing to do with me. We can chuckle at our extreme differences, I suppose that’s appreciation, maybe acceptance. We spend quite a bit of time laughing with our little girls too.

Jacinta has learned the beauty of indoor tents, not how to make them herself but how to play in them. “Mommy will you make me and Genevieve a tent in her crib?” They play under the blankets, peek a boo, roll around and play with toys. Evie enjoys it as much as Jacinta, for a while at least. But even while Evie is elsewhere, Jacinta wants to get in the tent alone. The other day Matt asked her if she was going to have a rest in her tent. Of course not! Jacinta? Nap? “You can just daydream,” Matt suggested. Any suggestion of sleep to Jacinta is a blasphemy. After he explained what daydreaming was, he covered her back up in the tent. As she was in the tent, she felt quite alone and began conversing with herself. I was feeding Evie three steps away, feeling bad for eavesdropping, but lucky. “Daydreaming…what is that? It’s good, day dreaming. You can do it while you are awake. Daydreaming…what is that? I don’t know. Do you know Mr. Sun?” She went on and on, playfully asking herself the same questions, eventually turning it into a song. She sings a lot these days. Although I wanted to hate Raffi, I just couldn’t do it. We have been listening to Raffi, yes, a real children’s singer who sings catchy little tunes which get terribly stuck in your head. His songs make us laugh. Matt’s mum even likes him. I used to pride myself on influencing Jacinta’s music taste and filling her ears only with complex melodies and harmonies from the Indigo Girls, great African rhythms, or French lullabies. In my recent efforts to chill out in food, I have let in a little mainstream kids music. It’s not so bad after all.

The night chill has just hit me, it is now ten o’clock. The rain has started up again. It lasted about one minute. You can hear the rain tapping on our tin roof, so it’s easy to tell how much water is coming without even looking out the window. Keith has kept the fire burning ever morning and every night. I just went out to feel the warmth of the fire for a minute and get a snack to wake me up. Poor Matt is out there watching his team, the Sydney Swans lose pretty badly to a Melbourne team. He is sincerely very sad. Sports empathy is something I lack, but try to understand.

Empathy for my loved ones and their feelings of happiness is something I feel very strongly. Belonging, being loved and accepted is something I thrive on, I need. This is who I am. Jacinta is coming of the age when she is consciously encountering inclusion and exclusion in social situations. Today I witnessed for the first time my daughter being intentionally excluded from other children playing. It was heartbreaking for me. I don’t know how she felt or if she understood what the two little girls were doing as they both repeatedly moved away from her on the trampoline. She giggled with them and followed them as they moved away. This would lead me to believe that she didn’t understand the meanness, and that the cushion of love we have created for her is still intact. Later on, Matt asked her if she had fun playing with the girls and she said that she had played “just with myself.” She did not sound disappointed, but specified that she had not played with one girl at all, but had played with the other in the sandbox. It’s interesting because she was near both girls quite a bit. She somehow knew though, that playing with and playing nearby are two very different things. I hope that she does not thrive on acceptance as much as I, because it’s all about to begin, the joy and the pain of school children. As parents, I suppose all we can do is stuff her love cushion as fat as we can and hope she loves herself enough to deal with the exclusion that can happen in children’s games.

She sure is proud enough of herself at this point in life. She’ll comment on how pretty her hair looks, how well she can jump, or how strong she is to be able to carry a heavy book. For now, she just hears all of us telling her how well she does things. Like fetching eggs, she can now fetch the eggs out of the chicken pen on her own. She’ll count up to fourteen …… “ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, eleventeen, sixteen, eleventeen, twelve, ten, eleventeen, twenty!” Eventually she’ll learn that you can’t gloat like this to your friends, especially if you’re using the number eleventeen to get to twenty.

We have twenty chickens now, including the two new black ones. They are already roosting on the top rung. I suppose this means pecking order is based on size, age and experience, rather than time spent in a specific group of hens. The number twenty also includes two chicks that were hatched just before we returned to Australia from their small black mummy hen, who was just born herself last December. These little chicks peep outside our windows every morning as they live underneath our house and not in the chook pen. Little Mister, the old little rooster passed away while we were in America. Thus we have one remaining rooster, Ulysses who seems to crow just when Genevieve is falling asleep.

Evie is still not a sleeper, but we have accepted it. She’s fun to have around, good thing because she is always with us. She’ll fuss once in a while, lately though it’s because she wants to get down on the floor and play or join us at the table and eat some type of orange vegetable. Pumpkin, sweet potato or carrot, just cook it up, add cinnamon, smash it and she’s happy, and messy! She doesn’t seem to like grains yet, and won’t fall for the mixing trick. Pumpkin and rice? No, just plain pumpkin, thank you. Eating makes her happy, yes. She’s also happy out in the garden, army crawling to the edge, or watching us play the guitar. She’ll always stop fussing for live music.
Who wouldn’t?

I’ve had a reasonably slow week given the rain and a sore throat. I always get a sore throat if I get sick, probably because it’s my most used body part. Sometimes I’ll catch it early enough and it can’t take hold. Luckily it worked this time: sage, lemon, licorice root, honey, chamomile, vitamin C, Echinacea, soup and sleep made it a two day sickness. Nonetheless, I was a bit housebound due to this and the rain. I made it out to choir one night and to my friend Michelle’s one day. I cooked a lot, made curtains with Mary, read my book and enjoyed being home. I can’t say I relaxed much, I really wanted to be outside planting. I actually brought in compost soil, pots and planting boxes and planted seeds inside out of desperation. Jacinta enjoyed the novelty of playing with dirt inside, as did I. Genevieve would have liked to join us, but she was actually napping both times! She does sleep, just not like Jess did.

Between the rain, we did make it out to the garden enough this week to plant onions, potatoes, and carrots in the terrace garden. I transplanted many herbs, flowers, a rosebush, a native flowering bush and a huge lavender bush into our new little house garden. Jacinta likes the word “transplant,” and figured out what it meant when she asked if she could do it. Strawberries! We brought up about ten extra strawberry plants from other garden beds. She lovingly planted them outside our window and made little rock circles around each plant. She actually ate two red strawberries this week. It’s fun having plants that she loves so close to our front door. Soon she’ll be able to go outside and check for berries every hour!

There you have it, another Henry week. I hope you had a productive, yet peaceful week too. As for the silly Shana advice: plant something you love right outside your bedroom window, nurture it, watch it, and love it to life. It’s fall, try a fruit tree!

Back In the Garden

Good evening loved ones. I am really starting to feel the change of seasons, the unnatural jump from the end of summer in America to the beginning of spring in Australia. I thought it would be harder to deny my soul's desire to bundle up in the autumn after six months of solid summer. It turns out that two weeks of morning and night chill has sufficed. Matt and I laugh/whine at the insanity of sleeping under the weight of seven blankets. Throughout the night we silently battle for our due share of the blankets. We are not laughing then, it is cold. Every few hours we wake either for Evie or to throw Jacinta's covers back on her, trying once again to trap her in the warmth. The nights and mornings are still chilly but the days are already warm enough to work in shorts and T-shirts. I have been quickly enticed by the lovely fertility in the spring air. The week of solid rain sprung many plants and trees into action, leaving us with a completely full dam, fruit trees covered in new growth and little self sowed seedlings popping up everywhere. Shame on me for complaining that I'd have to skip winter!

I've spent the week jumping back into the activities I love here. On Tuesday I took Jacinta and Genevieve to choir. Not only was it awesome to sing African, Gospel, and German songs again, but to share my little girls with my singing buddies again. Jacinta had not come to choir for over six months. She finally decided to come along even though it began at her bed time. I psyched her up for it all day and it worked. Typically she sits on the floor and plays, but this time after a few minutes of vocal exercises, she joined in. She watched our mouths carefully and imitated the sounds exactly, most often on key. Then, all of the sudden something inside her told her that she should join the circle. It was a big move, you could see it on her face. This was no small endeavour. She stood up, budged her way into the circle and quickly grabbed my hand. She held on and sang loudly, "ee-oh ee-oh ee-oh ee-oh." When we began singing real songs with words she didn't know, she kept on singing. She just stared at Crystal's mouth, imitated the movements and sang the alto part along with us. Of course this brought tears to my eyes. All the while, Genevieve was "flying" on the ground, staring in awe at all of the beautiful faces around her, soaking up the rhythm and their beautiful voices. To top it off, there was a lunar eclipse that night. We all went out to check on the moon after every other song. It was gorgeous. Jacinta slammed her finger in the door on her way back in one time. Her fatigue made her scream unfortunately louder than the pain alone warranted, but that was a small price to pay for a great night.

Another first was returning to playgroup. I decided to take the double stroller into town, knowing it would be one of the last weeks before the heat made this impossible.

It was nice to walk this path again. We pass such beautiful land and riverside en route to town. Driving is nice, but too fast. You miss out on the feel of the area. Riding a bike is nice too, but impossible with two children and one lone adult. Walking is slow, lovely and allows for time to smell and notice wildlife: birds, lizards, butterflies, different types of trees and wildflowers. The cows stare at you from the moment you enter their vision until you exit. Matt and I were remarking that bike rides and stroller rides are some of the only occasions that Jacinta is alert, yet silent. These are moments to treasure these days. Once we made it to playgroup, a little late of course, we had a lovely time. Jacinta hung close for a while, observing the situation before jumping back into the chaos. She watched the other children play, while I excitedly caught up with friends and passed Evie around. She played alone for a while: pushing around dollies in prams and going down the slide. Eventually Jacinta joined the children playing in the sandpit and stayed there for the last hour. She was so involved she failed to notice the fruit salad emerging from the kitchen. This was a first! Genevieve brought me down to a new level. No longer at the coffee and tea table surrounded by sweets for morning tea with the other mothers, I am on the ground playing with my baby and the few other mums of babies that age. It's nice to see a new side of playgroup, although I miss the easy access to food! The return trip was a bit harder going uphill with this massively heavy double stroller, but Genevieve slept the whole way. For the beauty and the silence, it was certainly worth the effort.

The garden is another place that lights up my life with peace and beauty. It is an easy season for gardening, the temperature is not too high yet and the sun's position allows more shade to cover the gardens. Genevieve is now happy rolling on a blanket in the grass, although she prefers belly scooting off of the blanket to eat dirt, leaves, and sticks. Jacinta has been away long enough that she can once again enjoy gardening as a novelty. She can plant seeds, use her tools, and hunt for edibles. It is almost strawberry season. The plants have flowered and produced a few unripe white strawberries. White or red, Jacinta is impatient and needs garden food to keep her interested so she begs to please eat the white ones. After explaining what will happen if we wait, I give in and allow her to eat a few white ones. She is eating blue borage flowers now, and will find a random carrot now and then. In weeding this week I found many random volunteer plants. Baby potatoes were among her favourite finds. For me, it was the lettuce seeds that found a way amidst thick grass to grow into significant lettuce seedlings. I often leave plants to flower, dry up and drop their seeds right where they have grown. It saves the effort of digging the plants up, drying the seed, collecting, storing and eventually planting the seeds. It doesn't always work but when it does, you feel the bounty of Mother Nature even stronger because you conserved your own energy by letting the earth do its 'thang.'

The volunteer plants are wonderful, but some intentional planting is necessary if you want any say in what you eat. If I were here in winter, I would have prepared the ground and picked out the seeds I wanted to sow. I would be planting right now, but alas, I was not here. So now is the time to do it all: sort through my seeds, weed and feed two massive gardens, plant and water. It sounds like a lot for one woman with two little girls and a house to keep up. Matt doesn't require much, but the girls do. I aim to spend about an hour a day in the garden. This is far from sufficient. Add Keith to the equation and the problem is almost solved. Keith was here all winter composting, caring for the trees, converting the "House Garden" which is out Mary's bedroom window into a diverse, accessible, productive veggie garden, and dreaming up permaculture schemes for the bigger gardens. Not wanting to do too much without me, he waited for my return to discuss the plans for action in these gardens. Once the plan was made, he has been out there each morning by 6am working to prepare these gardens for planting. I successfully made it out each day for about an hour, sometimes with the girls and sometimes alone. Together we have almost finished the preparations. I've gone through my massive seed collection and am already dreaming of watermelon and corn. Just yesterday I began creating yet another garden outside our bedroom window, an herb garden. It had to be done, I can't go far for parsley when I'm cooking or I won't use it. Now that we have finished building we can beautify the outside.

Matt is beautifying also, by painting the house to match Mary and Keith's house. He listens to podcasts and music on the Ipod while painting and seems to enjoy himself. He is still doing little odd jobs on the exterior of the house, corners, gutters and the like. There is more painting to be done but so far, it looks great, as if our section has always been here. The cupboards he built last week were finally ready to be inhabited. Mary and Keith searched for basket drawers for the shelves and after a tiring day of looking in malls and superstores, they ended up finding them in the Macksville dollar shop. Moving into the drawers and cupboards freed up a lot of space in the kitchen and just finished it off. It has made me want to cook all of the time to celebrate my awesome kitchen. In addition to his manual labour, Matt is cultivating his other side through reading, writing and playing Jacinta to sleep at night with his mandolin. He is also contemplating enrolment in a counselling course and playing professional cricket. Just kidding on the latter. Nonetheless, there is never a dull moment.

As I fall more in love with my kitchen and gardens, Jacinta too, is growing more comfortable with her surroundings. Daisy, the goat, went to another farm where she would have more space to roam and trees to eat and less children to butt. Now Jacinta can go outside by herself and play in her cubby house without fear of the goat. I too, can hang the laundry and let Genevieve roll without the anxiety of the goat. It is quite a relief. We had a few friends drop in for visits this week. They didn't need to look out for Daisy's horns either. Nickolas didn't believe Jacinta when she said Daisy had gone, but once Matt confirmed her absence they were off to the cubby house to make muffins out of sand. Now I can send the whiny begging little girl Jacinta turns into before meals outside to make me dinner in the sand, and she does!

In her meal preparation out in the sand, Jacinta always thinks of her little sister. "Mom! Can you bring Evie out here? I've smashed up her muffins for her! They are ready now!" Jess has learned to use the baby food grinder and enjoys smashing up Evie's dinner. This week it was carrots, rice, oats, a little banana, lentils, some pinto beans, and pumpkin. Typically she spits out as much as she eats and it is a messy endeavour. On a lucky night she'll stay in her chair for the entire meal, playing with hard apples and carrots while taking a few spoonfuls. But sometimes she lasts five minutes and we have to quickly remove the messy child and clean her up for a nap. Tonight we were at some friends' house for dinner and she ate pumpkin like it was going out of style. She didn't spit out any, patiently waited for more, ate everything she was given, and stayed clean. What changed? We have no idea, but were thankful. Hopefully her belly full of pumpkin will keep her sleeping longer tonight.

After dinner at the Miles' house, Matt and Craig went out and scooped up two huge sleepy black hens and put them in boxes. They were a gift, so that we might have more eggs to eat. In the empty seat next to the girls, they slid around in their boxes on the curvy, hilly drive home. Once home, we placed them on the roost with the other 15 chickens, putting them on the bottom rung of the roost. It will be interesting when they all wake up tomorrow morning.

Amidst all of this excitement and new life, there is inevitably sadness somewhere in our lives. I'm sure you have noticed that I usually stay pretty positive in this journal, seeming to live an extraordinarily painless life. This is mostly true, I am pretty lucky, but of course I keep some things to myself. I share only what might be interesting and/or fun for one or more of you to read. I tend to focus on the events that teach me something, make me smile or ponder. Although it is not our pain directly, we feel the pain in our family and friends' lives and it changes our lives too.

Our friend Jay, who had his life drastically changed over three years ago by a blood clot in his brain, was one of the impetuses to get us off of our tails and follow our dream to the country in Australia. He was healing and learning to live with decreased capacity. A few weeks ago he had another cyst removed from his brain, which started his progress all over again. A student of mine, a boy I taught French, Algebra, Choir, African Geography and for whom I cooked, well, he turned into an amazing man. I knew him only as a boy, but watched him grow for four years and loved him. His name is Miles and he has just passed away, just as the rest of his old classmates prepare to head off to college. He loved life, loved learning, sharing, caring, and celebrating. I didn't have the chance to spend much time with him as his body slowly deteriorated from cancer. He was loved by many, all of whom were incredibly inspired by him. He wrote a Blog that inspired thousands with his zest for life, and became well known in the media. To me, he was "Massamba," the only boy in French class who wasn't satisfied with a French name but wanted something "more interesting." When I named him after my Senegalese host brother for his persistence and longing to know, he was finally satisfied. No matter how much good he has done and will continue to do through his legacy for the cause of pediatric cancer, it is just sad. It is terribly sad to know that his body is underground and not out celebrating his victory against all odds and inspiring people.

I look at the new little plants popping out of the ground and the little chicks peeping outside Jacinta's window. I try to think of the circle of life and how everything must die. It all makes sense, yes. But it's terrible that Jay lost what he was to what seemed like a massive headache. It's terrible that Miles' body is gone. It's terrible that my Senegalese friend Khady lost her young sister to cancer because she couldn't afford good medical treatment. It's terrible that people die from simple illnesses like fevers in poor countries. Amidst the sadness, their spirits all live on inspiring us to love each other more while we are still here on this earth. They just might inspire us to work for justice, a healthier environment and better medical care worldwide. But they might just make us cry, mourn, and lose hope for a while. And that's okay too, not all tragedy has to have an upside.

For now I suppose I'll just smile at the buds on the trees and cry for the loss of Miles Levin. I'm sure there are a million little sayings about sorrow and joy going hand in hand, but I'm not good at quoting, that's Matt's department.

Wishing you all a good week, filled with more joy than sorrow.

Peace,

Shana