Chasing chickens

Good evening y’all. This is perhaps the first time when I’ve sat down and thought… “Hmmm…what is there to say?” I suppose this is a sign that life is becoming very normal for me here. These newly formed intentional routines are guiding us through our days very nicely. Our early morning garden jaunts have led us to the last few strawberries in the patch, to the corn patch to scatter compost, to the clover-filled tepee for weeding, to the shed for story-telling, to the seedling boxes for transplanting, to the clay fort to make walls. Little tiny jobs that used to be written down in a to-do list get done almost as soon as I notice the need. I’m feeling like a real gardener now, well almost.

Matt would never call himself a real builder, although he has built a house and its furniture. It’s nice to hear the buzz of the big saws again. I missed the thrill of observing new walls pop up out of nowhere. This week Matt has framed the cellar walls and made the whole veranda/cellar construction project look real. You can see the shape now, it’ll be great to have more space to store things and just to sit outside on a shady afternoon. Today he dug out another pit beneath the veranda which will provide a space to park our bikes. He used to joke about digging himself an office, but now he’s getting a bit tired of digging. Matt’s website has also been “built” but unlike a house which once built remains as is for awhile, it is undergoing updates each day. For another challenge, Matt thought he’d push both girls into town to the park in the double stroller, up and down the hill. Jacinta is at an age where she is too little to walk all the way into town and back, and VERY heavy to push in the pram. Oh well, I suppose it keeps us fit. Matt’s biggest success this week was perhaps the garage sale that renewed his faith in garage sale-ing. He found recording equipment, books, Ugg boots and a booster seat. Garage sale-ing is part of Matt and Keith’s Saturday morning routine, if there are any good ones advertised.

In my newfound love for routines, I have turned Monday into “town day.” I drive the girls into town after gardening to do whatever we might need or just want to do. We usually hit the library first. We check out new books to keep Matt and I sane. Jacinta usually talks us into reading her at least five books a day. If the librarian wasn’t the absolute coldest woman I’d ever met, I’d probably love our time there. The little children’s section is really nice though, it’s a clean enclosed space for Evie to crawl. Amidst our errands, we have a picnic lunch on the river. We usually read one of our new books while dodging Evie’s grubby, grabby fingers. Lastly, we end up at the public pool for Jacinta’s swimming lesson. She is quite happy to be back in the pool with her teacher. Evie can’t wait to get in, she is actually quite hard to restrain while watching Jacinta’s fifteen minute lesson.

Perhaps that is a good image for Genevieve at this stage. She is struggling to jump in the water, to stand up, to walk, to chase her sister, to follow me out the door, to crawl off of the bed, to get over the terrace wall, to climb over the wall of pillows meant to block her out, to get her teeth out. Her third tooth is coming out, and Matt swears he can see the fourth. She doesn’t seem to be in terrible teething pain, although it surfaces from time to time. She is still smiley, chirpy, and now even chatty. Her conversations usually start after she has been freed from her high chair and go something like this: “guh…guh….mumumumumum.” Genevieve sometimes makes Jacinta laugh. More often, she inspires Jacinta to repeat the same antic that made Evie laugh once. This can go on forever, Jacinta getting louder and more boisterous each time her little sister giggles. I think this is Jess’s way of winning the attention, “Look at me! It is I who made Evie laugh and be cute.”

Jacinta is not constantly worried about her little sister stealing the show, just when she is tired or when Genevieve is doing something for the first time. Tonight at the dinner table Genevieve discovered her tongue, she was winding it in all directions and making us laugh. Jacinta’s response to all of this attention on her cute sister was to repeat the same phrase over and over. “What are you doing?” she asked Genevieve about one hundred and fifty times. The very repetitive nature of the question made Evie laugh, thus Jacinta kept going, progressively growing in volume. Obviously this had to be stopped. She dealt with the blow rather well, compared to instances when she is tired. The other day she had a major fatigue induced tantrum, started off while threading beads on to a bracelet. Genevieve had just fallen asleep, and Jacinta cracked. She bawled about the size of the bracelet, waking up her little sister who then also needed me. What a rough bit of logic for a three year old to figure out. If somehow she could understand that crying at the top of her lungs when in need of cuddles and a rest is only going to wake her little sister whose needs will then trump her own. Oh well, I suppose it’s life. She had dibs on the momma for a few years, now it’s Evie’s turn. In the end Jacinta ended up falling asleep on the fluffy wool rug on her floor and slept for almost two hours. Genevieve went back to sleep and I had an hour of daylight to myself.

What did I do with an hour alone? Instead of continuing my normal productive paths through the house, I lay down on the floor, stretched out and read a book. The book was about preserving food, a new interest of mine. I have had large amounts of fruit to use lately, boxes of peaches and nectarines. Typically I either make a fruit sauce or freeze the fruit for later. Matt took both girls out to the park on Saturday, leaving me yet another hour or two on my own. This time I was productive. I made a peach-apple pie, went on a walk and starting making pesto. I have decided that pesto really can be made with any pungent green herbs that are abundant in your garden. This time I used a combination of mint, lemon balm, arugula, oregano, and parsley in addition to the normal oil, garlic, salt and nuts (macadamia). Honestly the basil doesn’t seem to be that important, although it is good. Today’s food success was getting through a huge box of white flesh nectarines, eating quite a few but freezing the rest.

Our food cooperative group met today, this time at the beach. It was a funny place to divvy up large quantities of honey, macadamia nuts and macadamia oil, but it worked. The kids swam first, then we all came back to the shelter to set out our potluck lunch and start pouring oil and weighing nuts. The children stood partly in awe and confusion as their parents turned into shopkeepers exchanging money and weighing out food. Mostly though, they just grabbed bits of food and played at the park. It was a lovely morning, swimming and food sharing. It just so happens that all of our friends are into food. Hmmm…I wonder how that happened.

It has been a good week for getting together with friends. Friday night we had some new friends over for dinner. They have three older children, the ages of children Matt and I used to work with. Having been surrounded by children between the ages of zero and five for the past few years, it was really nice to soak up some of their energy. Last Sunday we went to the Miles’ house for lunch. Jacinta was in heaven playing with her little girlfriend Lilly, as she is going through a phase where girls are it. At one point she, Lilly, Rory and Aidan were all chasing chickens, trying to get them out of the garden and back into their pen. We do this at our house too, but never before has it been such fun. Anything with four children is better than with your mum. She told me later that Rory and Aidan were the ones to carry the chicks back to the pen after they had been caught. The boys are at least a year older than Jess and Lilly. She also happily commented that they let Lilly and Jacinta hold them before they threw them back over the fence.(In the meantime, Matt went checking on the beehives with Craig, and when a bee got into his netted hood, he kinda screamed like a baby and ran away… from “what” is unclear…) A few days later while storytelling in the garden, Jacinta embellished my story about two little girls named Jacinta and Genevieve. “and…..Jacinta chased the chicks, but this time, she caught the chicks herself and put them back.” Sometimes I hear her dreams coming through in stories.

Lately Jacinta has been asking me to “tell” her stories at bedtime, rather than read her stories. It keeps my mind working, but lately she is very specific about what she wants in the story. It’s either two, three, or four little girls out picking berries or some food she likes. The storyline gets old, but I suppose children like repetition. After the stories we usually finish the night with a few lullabies, I have mentioned this before. Well, the other night we thought she was tired enough after the stories, we said goodnight. Genevieve was in her crib sleeping. Out of the room came a loud sound which made us think one of them was crying. It was Jacinta singing herself lullabies because we had forgotten. We could have left her to do it herself, but Matt went back and sang to her.

After all, I had a lot to say, as usual. It takes me two nights now to write my journal. I blame it on Genevieve, as I never get a good night’s sleep and usually fall asleep before I can finish. I could also blame it on busy days, but such is life. We are all busy in our own way. I don’t imagine there are many people on this planet who go to bed thinking, “Oh I have so much energy left, I wish I had more to do!” Even the peacock, who seems to live a life of relative ease, I’m guessing he goes to bed feeling that he’s earned himself a good night’s sleep. Lately, he has been displaying his beautiful tail for us, perhaps as a Thank You for the seed. That could be work to him. Keith found out that he belongs to a lady up the road. Rumor has it that his tail has been run over a few times by cars as he lollygags across the road. It doesn’t look any worse off though, what a magnificent sight.

The peacock and I will sleep well tonight and we hope you do too! I also hope you see something as gorgeous and shocking as a peacock’s tail on display or as sweet and peaceful as a baby snoring after a long day’s work. Good night y’all. Happy Daylight Savings.

Peace,
Shana

Fruit bats and boot bats

Good evening loved ones  A while ago Jacinta asked me “what season is it?” She was talking about fruit, which fruits were in season. This was in the slightly barren stretch between winter citrus and spring fruits. Yesterday on the way to the market out of nowhere she joyously called out from the backseat that, “It’s blueberry season!” It is springtime, the days are hot and the nights cool. Our two blueberry bushes together will probably produce about 20 blueberries. Yes, just 20. Nonetheless, when Jacinta may get to eat one or two every few days as they ripen, this makes them very exciting. It is also mulberry and strawberry season here at our place. Nearby there are peaches in season, so we are eating them every morning for breakfast. We have been waiting for stone fruits to arrive in the fruit shops: peaches, plums and nectarines. These are actually only available when in season. Their scarcity makes them taste even exotic when they finally arrive. Our most hopeful fruit tree, the nectarine has already lost most of its fruit to fruit bats. There are about sixteen remaining nectarines on the branches, counted by Jacinta, and they could be ready in about a month.

Although they will someday be the reason that all of our beautiful trees will wear ugly nets for protection, fruit bats are magnificent creatures. Coming from the US, my idea of a bat is a strange looking little creature that sleeps upside down, eats mosquitoes, and might one day get stuck in your attic. Here they are dinner entertainment for our family as we look out the kitchen window. Matt is always the first to spot a bat each evening. You’ll hear a funny screech, and shortly after see two feet of wingspan flap by. Once one flies by, the race is on for the figs. Then it’s easy to catch a glimpse even as the sunlight fades away into blackness. One night I sat out on a bench looking up at the moon watching them flap overhead. I wonder if in five years when my fruit trees mature and these bats are the bane of my existence, if then, I’ll still admire them so.

We have been calling Jacinta a fruit bat for a while now, given her love of all fruits (except papaya). Genevieve has tried a few fruits now: apples, pears, bananas, melons, strawberries, mulberries, pineapple, oranges, and peaches. How could you dislike any of those, really? The littlest Henry is fond of her fruits, but what she loves are shoes. Boots, sandals, slippers: anything you can wear on your feet, she wants them in her mouth. I’ve mentioned before that she pants like a little puppy dog when crawling in pursuit of desired objects or people, shoes are definitely the most coveted item. In our small little house, she has no trouble spotting the lonely shoes that one of us has forgotten to put on the rack. Within seconds she has the dirty shoes in her mouth, again, like a puppy as we lunge to take them away. It must be the rubber, I don’t know. We have taken to calling Evie the “boot bat” and Jacinta the “fruit bat.”

Joking the other day about what kind of bats we all were, I think I was a nut bat. That could have been an insult, maybe? Matt became the chocolate bat. In Matt’s great efforts to eat a little closer to home, he has been pre-making himself burgers to fry up for lunch, rather than running out to buy a sausage roll or a meat pie. He doesn’t buy much junk, he just munches on his mum’s stock of chips and chocolate cookies. Such is life living really close to your mum. Occasionally he must go out for a chocolate fix. In the past few weeks, the thought has crossed my mind that sugar is not the devil. I grew up with sugar, but started slowly weaning myself from overloads by the age of 20. Between 20 and 30, influenced by some big sugar demonizers, I progressively knocked refined sugar out of my diet, leaving fruit sugars, vegetable sugars, and honey. So it is possible to do it and still be very happy and healthy. Now I know. But getting along with the other humans and allowing your children the freedom to do as other children do is also nice.

I have made a serious conscious effort to chill out about food in the past six months. As a part of my “healing” I decided to make real American brownies, following the Betty Crocker recipe to the letter (this was Matt’s urging). Other than using whole wheat flour, I kept my word. They were rich and good, of course. Brownies have more sugar than flour in them, sugar shock could be the only potential problem. Jacinta rose to the occasion, crushing the chocolate, even standing at the stove carefully stirring the butter and chocolate as it melted. This was the first time I allowed her to hold the handle of a pot and stir, “like a momma.” She did the job much better than I could have, given her capacity to stick to one task and my tendency to flutter away and forget. No doubt she enjoyed licking the bowl. The best part was eating the finished product with a glass of milk: connecting with her American self.

Although I may be relaxing about sugar intake, I am still pretty energized to grow a lot of lovely healthy food here at home. We’ll see how many years it takes me to lose this energy. Right now in the garden we are harvesting lettuce, celery, strawberries, carrots, arugula (if I ever get the nerve to eat it), spinach and broad beans (I must figure out what to do with them). We had our first ripe cherry tomato, just one. It is still early. We are anxiously awaiting corn, potatoes, beans, beets, cucumbers, melons, basil, peppers and tomatoes. With our daily morning garden visits, we have been feeding the plants, watering, tying up tomatoes, cutting back overgrowth, hilling potatoes, weeding, and planting little bits here and there. Using the clay from our dam, we have started building a mudbrick fort with Keith. It will serve as a playpen for Evie and a hideout fort for Jacinta. It’s messy work, great fun though. Keith does most of the hard labour. Keeping Evie somewhat safe is rough next to a wet, mucky clay wall, thus we have gone back to simple gardening for a few days now. The gardens actually look well tended during a point in the season when things usually get out of control. Matt helps out with watering, weed whacking both gardens for us and staying with Evie if she ever falls asleep while gardening.

Genevieve works hard, I have to give her that. Her will to be involved in every part of the day keeps her awake even when her body says, “LET ME REST!” She has just figured out how to push a stool along the wood floor, walking with it as it slides. She’ll use any old thing to pull up on now, no matter how precarious. If it’s a sturdy item, she may hold on with one hand and lean down to pick up a toy. On her way back up, she will sometimes forget how hard the balance is to hold and just let go, wavering in the air with no hands for a few seconds and tumble to the ground. Oops! She concentrates quite intensely at times and at others, just forgets completely. If concentration would help her teeth come out any quicker, she would surely have them all out in a few weeks. For now she has two lovely little crooked bottom teeth, and is mining in her mouth for more. Whining and dining, chewing on different foods as teething toys. She is not so interested in the rubber teething toys. I suppose I wouldn’t go for them either if I could have a cob of corn instead. She’s not whining that much, mostly on the move, looking for a good toy, and ready for a laugh with her sister.

Jacinta likes to play “baby games” with Evie now, slapping their hands together, sometimes getting too rough but often she gets it right. Genevieve loves the attention, and Jacinta enjoys the reward of Evie’s smile and her infectious giggles. “Dancing time” is a new request we hear from Jacinta once in a while. She needs music, mom, and some things to twirl around. Genevieve sits on the floor and watches in awe while we dance. Typically I put on fast Irish or bluegrass music, but this week I put on an amazing classical guitar song and she enjoyed it just as much. We went up on our toes when the music went up high, and danced slowly with the tempo. Although Jacinta will not dance unless I join in, she will not dance “with” me. She moves to her own beat, but needs me there moving to my own beat as well.

Have you ever scoffed at a musical in its silly efforts to put a melody to the most mundane aspects of life? Well, at this point Jacinta’s life seems to be a musical. She sings little sentences she is thinking quietly, gradually getting louder as she realizes she may want to voice the thought. She sings about fruit, toys, dolls, anything. Most often she hums to herself though. This morning I had to stop and just listen to the beautiful buzz of our children in their first few minutes of the new day. It’s as if their voices, having been trapped in sleep for the last twelve hours were finally released, allowed to fly free. The girls were out in the lounge room while Matt and I were groggily, quietly submitting to the day doing little morning tasks. Genevieve was saluting her toys making quiet happy baby sounds while Jacinta sat humming and setting out blocks. This is good music.

Of course our girls hear a lot of music, but watching them process it is just amazing. A few times a week Matt will sit in Jacinta’s room for a half an hour with his guitar or mandolin and play as many songs as it takes to put her to sleep. I laughed the other night from a room away as she excitedly commented after each song, “I like that one daddy!” She must have had a nap that day, it took a few extra songs to do the trick.
In addition to singing the girls to sleep, Matt’s been busy studying and building the new veranda. He now has all of the cement footings in and a the beginning of the frame. Last Sunday he smashed his finger pretty badly between “a rock and a hard place,” but he’s back on track now.

Mostly Matt’s time has been spent on this computer, getting his website ready to launch. He finished yesterday, so my voice has been liberated and I can now open my big mouth. It is www.toomanyphotos.com and it is a service for people who have “too many photos” and no energy to deal with them. He makes short movies put to music, acting as a modern photo album. They are a quick easy way to share your photos with loved ones, or just to keep for your own enjoyment. He is also providing a service to groups of people who want to compile all of their pictures to share with each other. We have a movie for every month of life since Jacinta was born. Rather than a long video of her looking at giraffes in the zoo, it’s a whole bunch photos of everything we did that month put to a song that we liked at that time. It’s really neat to look back at what Jacinta was doing at eight months, and see how similar or different she and Evie look and act at each stage. I’m not meaning to advertise, but I suppose I should. We would like some business, but actually input from friends is what Matt is after right now. If you don’t mind having a look at the website, he had a hard time deciding on prices that would fit in with the current market for this service and wouldn’t mind comments.

There’s the news for this week. Would love to hear the newness in your life or perhaps about how lovely the same old routine feels in your life. I’m starting to enjoy routine these days. Love you all.
Peace,
Shana

mommy wake up

Good evening loved ones, far, far away loved ones. As my sense of normality narrows into a small town consciousness, my other life, where I spent 28 years close to major cities spirals further from me. Not having a trip planned or any idea of when we’ll get to see you all makes America seem so distant. Typically I can’t imagine anything more challenging than calling friends and family in the US because the hours I am able to talk are crazily busy hours with my loud children, morning until lunchtime. But this week, feeling the distance, I actually made a few attempts. I failed to actually catch anyone at home. So instead, I enjoyed listening to the baby rooster learn to crow and to the voices of my growing girls, catching glimpses of the new resident peacock, and chasing calves out of the yard.

The garden routine, ahh, sweet routine. I do not regret the fact that it took me three years to figure out the need for patterns. For now, I feel liberated rather than feeling trapped by the routine. Our first activity each day after breakfast is a romp in the gardens. I go down with no major projects in mind, just pottering, being present and doing little jobs. By 7:30 we are dressed in grubby garden clothes. Just as Evie is getting fussy, Matt straps her onto my back with her sun hat on and rubs some bug lotion on her exposed hands. Usually she’ll fall asleep within five minutes, as Jacinta and I walk down to the garden. If she sees the dirt before she falls asleep, she wiggles until I let her down to romp in the dirt. Otherwise, she’ll nap for twenty minutes or so on my back. On the way down Jacinta asks, “Which garden we are going to today?” The orchard is much more fun for playing, but the terrace garden has more strawberries to eat and fennel plants, her newest garden food. The orchard has good hiding spots and hundreds of borage flowers to eat. It also has the shed, the tools and chairs in which we like to sit and tell stories.

Jacinta’s latest addition to garden play is storytelling, while I’m either feeding Genevieve or sitting down doing something brainless like weeding. “Mommy, can you tell me a story?” I am learning to spin tales, but I like a bit of direction so I ask her who she wants in the story. Yesterday it was a cow and a pig, today it was two little girls and a mommy. Later on it was two dogs and two cats, little ones, of course. I wasn’t so confident at first, but with a little practice and the knowledge that your child loves you no matter what, I’ve gotten better. After reading hundreds of children’s books to her, I have come to an understanding of what makes up a story. Given the characters, I begin making up funny details about each one while I try to come up with a plot. The plot is the hardest part, especially while I’m waffling on about each character. Eventually a butterfly flies by and gives me an idea. My favourite story this week was the butterfly who had tasted all different colored flowers that day, but really wanted some pink flowers. She asked another butterfly, then a bumblebee, then of course, the third passer-by knew where to find pink flowers. So the bird lead her to the pink flowers, she indulged and could finally go to sleep after a long day. Whether I succeed or fail to come up with a plot, Jacinta smiles and giggles gratefully after each one. She never fails to ask for, “another one, please?”

Today she sat on a stool in the middle of the newly grown clover field, under the teepee playing with the chimes while I weeded out hundreds of tomato plants, grass shoots, and bindies (burr-like ground cover). She joins in when she feels the urge, and wanders happily now. One fun task we did together this week was seedling work. While I transplanted green pepper plants and weeded, she tipped out all of my failed seedling plants. First she whacked out the dirt, then took out the popsicle stick which said what seed was planted, wiped the stick off and put it in a pile, then stacked the empty pot into a tall tower. After each pot she’d ask, “How many pots are there now?” After forty pots, she felt very accomplished, as she should have.

We all take pride in our work. This week my pride came from a few different places. First off, my bread dough squeaks now! I began making my own bread about five years ago. It has been a long learning process, but I’ve got the touch now. The key seems to be adding flour based on feel rather than the suggested quantity. I know the feel now, I can feel it rising as I knead. The dough is alive, so warm and responsive. Secondly, French class went really well this week. The children all had fun and no one got hurt or too tired. I take that back, at the beginning Jacinta tripped and fell. As she hugged me loudly sobbing, “I hurt my vagina,” the five other innocent little children silently stared without a snicker. They are so sweet and young. The class went well because we spent half the time inside playing games and singing songs. The other half we ran, flew, jumped, swam and sang up and down the hill, finishing with games in the orchard where it is relatively safe. Teaching my daughter’s friends is a new thing. I’m finding the key is to just play with them, while still exercising authority, and making my ability to speak French out to be a treasure they wish to hold.

Genevieve’s pride is all over her face when she beats me to the dirty shoe and gets it in her mouth. When I quickly snatch it away, she doesn’t cry, just moves on to the next item of desire. The dogs food dishes are another dream, shiny silver, oh yes. She will crawl the same five steps over and over. When I pull her little legs back and she slides on her belly, she is not deterred, nor frustrated. Thirty times, that’s endurance in my book. She loves crawling out of our door into Mary and Keith’s lounge room. When she spots Keith, she pants like a puppy and powers along at full speed. When she gets out to her Pop, there’s pure pride on her face. She pulls at his leg and gets swooped up to play with the dangling spoon wind chimes and the cow that plays a lullaby. She knows how to get what she wants now. I suppose that’s what life is about: figuring out how to get what you want without damaging the earth or its inhabitants along the way. So far Genevieve is doing well in that respect.

Although he sarcastically comes off full of pride, Matt will not often openly admit feeling proud of his work. He may enjoy doing many things, but never thinks any of it is all that good. As you probably know, we are very different species. I think most things that I do are better than they really are, whereas he thinks the products of his creativity are shabbier than they really are. It could be that he is just more realistic. In any case, this week Matt’s creativity has led to a product that even he deems good. He is starting up a web-based business and has been working very hard to launch the web site. When he launches it next week, I’ll tell you more. Besides slaving over the computer, Matt spent some time digging in the dirt, studying, and playing with the girls. He took Genevieve out for the first time, leaving me at home without her, for the first time. They went to town for a few things and then driving, so she would nap. They ended up at the beach, playing around a little bit before coming home.

I made it to the beach with the girls again this week. It’s a nice time of year for the beach, not cold and not too hot yet. I met two friends and their sons at the park we love, where you can swim in the river while looking at the ocean. Jacinta played with Nickolas and Jack as if she were two, before she started thinking that being a girl means playing with girls only, if there is a choice. They ran back and forth in the water, dug holes, swam their rubber fish around and just played, free and happy to be in the fresh, salty air. Genevieve romped in the sand, crawled in the shallow water, swung her arms around happily and even had a nap. My friends and I had a chance to chat and revel in the bliss surrounding us. Typically in such bliss, I feel a tinge of guilt that Matt is at home working. But that day, I felt as if my job was equal, as if taking Jacinta to the beach showed her that boys too are great playmates, and that lesson was one she needed.

Gender roles are falling upon Jacinta naturally, in addition to what she observes in the males and females around her. For the past few months, Jacinta only recounts events that take place with girlfriends. When you ask Jess about playgroup, she only mentions the girls present, although she played with boys. During French class, without a word she will break through one side of the circle to stand in the middle of the other two girls, rather than remain next to the boys. When doing art projects at home, she will make cards for her girlfriends although her male playmates come to visit more often. Josephine is an older playmate who lives up the road and is such a big girl that she goes to school. Jacinta got to play at her house this week, leaving her to talk about Josephine reading her stories for the rest of the week. Jess wears three bracelets and a necklace at all times and regularly asks if she looks cute. She has even learned to string her own jewellery, and made a necklace all by herself the other day. What a girl, our sweet dolled up girl who wants to wear pink dresses, pink socks and pink shoes after we change out of our grubby garden attire.

Last week I mentioned Jacinta beginning to feel jealous of her little sister. Since we have recognized the reason for her attitude, we have been more able to avoid the outbursts. Matt and I are taking time once in a while to be with our big girl alone, to give her full attention. With more routine in our days, she is more peaceful and content. She even commented a few times that “Genevieve is the funnest little baby in to play with in the world!” They often play together on the rug. Jacinta is learning that if she wants to build a tower for herself, that she must give Evie some interesting toys to keep her occupied. Other times, Jacinta will create a massive cushy pillow land for she and her sister to play inside and laugh together. Often, the girls and I cuddle up on the pillows and read stories after lunch. It is the natural point in the day when one may desire a nap. As we read my eyelids always begin to fall. Jacinta eventually convinces me to finish the story, and we get up to keep going with no break in the day. But today, she left Genevieve and I to sleep. This was a first. After perhaps an hour of building with blocks, rolling trains around the house on her own, she came to the bedroom and kindly requested, “Mommy…wake up.” In deep sleep, I rolled over and asked, “Why?” She replied, “I want to play.” I then realized the gift she had just given me and I jumped up to celebrate the rejuvenation.

Wishing you whatever type of rejuvenation you need this week. All I needed was a nap, and it finally came. Take care.

Peace,
Shana

Envy and Abundance

Good evening y’all. Another week of life and growth has come and gone. The plants are taller, the girls are bigger, and we have all learned a few new things. The lessons that Matt and I have learned aren’t as clear as the girls’ newly acquired skills and knowledge, but you can’t go a week in life without learning something. One new fact I will retain is what a huntsmen spider looks like, and that it is harmless. It hunts insects and its leg span is larger than the palm of my hand. I have seen them and been told this before, but somehow resting on the ceiling above my sleeping baby’s crib this reassurance from Matt stuck more this time. The rustling of leaves outside my bedroom window as I write is a curiosity. You never know what creature will turn up on this land. Today a peacock wandered over!!??? He must have heard about the good food Keith offers all refugee animals at our place. Then there was the deer swimming across our dam the other day. Deer are rare non-native animals who were brought over for a venison industry that failed, leaving a bunch of lost wild deer. Farmers shoot them to prevent major crop loss. This would explain why the swimming deer never stopped for lunch, despite the good food it may have found.

Perhaps if the deer knew I was preparing a huge batch of granola to sell at the market, it might have come for a visit. This weekend I packed the girls up in the truck full of tables, chairs, homemade Macadamia Bread, Nutty Granola, seedlings, pitchers of Iced Herbal Tea, toys and food. I spent a few days preparing: gathering ingredients, packaging, making labels, testing different herbal tea combinations, baking, potting up lettuce, celery, tomatoes, and a few abundant herbs from the garden to sell as seedlings. I had no expectations of actually making a profit, it was just for the fun of spending a day in the midst of the market. I tried not to put too much energy into preparation, saving a lot of work to be done at the market with the girls. With a little help from Matt, Keith and Mary, Genevieve, Jacinta and I made it to the market before 8am to set up and sell our goods alongside my friend Trish who was selling lemon butter and lemon cordial. We had a nice time, consumed a lot of each others’ goods, made it through the heat, took turns working the stall, and even sold a few items.

Markets, as I have mentioned before, are like big garage sales here. People come to sell their own junk and others come to buy it. Much to my chagrin, they do not come to buy food. I thought perhaps that it was the lack of food that left nothing but junk to buy. But it’s just a big rummage sale and that’s the way most people like it. The ambiance was great: good music, good people watching, a nice location under massive pine trees, and interesting people to meet. Perhaps one of the lessons learned this week is that the old idea of meeting weekly at a market to buy and sell fresh local produce just isn’t going to happen here. I was very lucky to live in Detroit where there were plenty of local weekly farmer’s markets. American efforts on this front are fairing rather well compared to our area here in Australia. It seems strange that out in the country where farms are abundant, the demand for farmer’s markets is so small. Most people are happy to buy whatever they put in the fruit shop or supermarket and don’t worry about its origin, as long as it is the right price. This seems to be the case in America also. There are always a few local items at the fruit shops here, and this is a selling point. I think farmers either sell to the shops or ship the produce to Sydney because city people will pay more for it. It could be that “wasting” a day at the market to sell very little is less enticing than selling to the local fruit shop.

Having spent the wee hours of the morning baking bread and granola, then watching it go relatively unappreciated at the market, I can now understand why my friends gave up selling their organic produce at the markets. Selling directly sounds great, but it gets too personal. Justin used to sit at the market all day, watching his beautiful produce wilt from the heat, trying not to think about the time and energy he had spent the day before harvesting it all. I had a lovely time with Trish and my girls, luckily coming with no grand expectations of raking in the money. We’ll see if I try again. It’s Monday now and I am still catching up on sleep.

It’s hard to catch up on sleep when one child never naps, the other one rises early, catnaps and goes to bed late. I do make the most of my long days though, no longer begrudging Jacinta for her lack of a nap. I do get a little annoyed when Evie stays up past 8pm, and in my fatigue, begrudge this sweet, innocent little child for her sleeplessness. This is the reason it has taken me three nights to write this one journal entry. Even coffee fails to keep me awake. Earlier I chuckled to myself as Evie continually pursued the music book as I tried to play the guitar thinking that someone must be slipping her some caffeine as a cruel joke on us. She is always pleasant company, good thing because she is the kind of company that doesn’t take the hint when the party is over. Jacinta is usually good company, but can be quite moody these days. I have realized that part of her moods can be explained by our lack of routine. So this week I tried to establish some routines, to eliminate her efforts to choose if and when we do things. She likes to spend time out in the garden, but often thinks to herself that staying inside, to do something like play kangaroos with Pop sounds more enticing than going outside. I used to give in and allow her to stay in if someone else would play with her, fearing her negative energy throughout our stay in the garden.

This week we started the new regime: gardening every morning first thing after breakfast before it gets hot. Breakfast, garden until it gets hot or we get tired, morning tea, bath then whatever else may be. Of course children need routine, that much choice in the day is overwhelming. Left to my own devices, I am usually not a routine kind of person. I leave my options open and see which way the wind is blowing each day. Jacinta has been left to my daily whims for a while, and has done her best to enjoy it all. Evie is still a baby, and for now, she is just as whimsical as me. Perhaps if I allow her a bit of routine she may learn to nap, we shall see.

Gardening has been a great joy this week. Genevieve just loves the mud, her favourite toys are sticks and leaves. I have finally given up bringing down toys and a picnic blanket. She instantly escapes into the dirt anyway and finds some “nature” to chew. Jacinta has enjoyed digging up lettuce seedlings to transplant, eating borage flowers, watering plants, planting corn, transplanting basil seedlings, digging up compost, going for wagon rides, sprinkling compost over the plants she really wants to grow (strawberries and blueberries) and of course, harvesting strawberries. Sometimes she’ll just zone out and sing to herself, draw on her chalk board, make cakes for animals out of green fallen fruit and leaves, or munch on carrots, celery, or baby spinach. No doubt though, she never disagrees when I suggest going back up to the house. We accomplished quite a bit and had a lovely time. Genevieve had a few naps on my back, but also had a lot of play time in the dirt. Best of all, there were a lot of strawberries to be eaten, and even Genevieve joined in.

Routine has helped Jacinta, but another major issue is that jealousy has entered her little world. She does not know the word itself, but the feeling is very real right now.
No longer is Evie welcome to knock down her the towers she has built, she is gated off with pillows and blankets. Sometimes you can hear Jess’s frustrated yell, “NOOOO!” from the other room. Rightly so, her inventions are becoming more complicated by the day, as Evie becomes more mobile and destructive. Jacinta now has to either join in while I feed Evie by climbing on my back, cuddling in close and grabbing Evie’s hands or distracting her or she leaves in search of some other human to love. When Genevieve is on the other side of the room and Jacinta is feeling particularly threatened, she will lay claim to the “mama” and make sure she gets her turn. Luckily, she is not always feeling vulnerable, and still happily plays with her little sister. They sat together in a cardboard box (boat) and played for quite a while the other day, giggling and smiling all the while. If Genevieve has a good nap, I am sure to spend some alone time with my big girl. It sounds silly though, I always spend good time with her, it’s just shared time. Genevieve is so easily entertained that half the time she is awake she plays happily on her own with toys. I suppose it is the other half that kills Jacinta, when she is not the center of the world. Preschool may do wonders for the girl. Learning that she’s one of many will be hard at first but a relief in the end.

Genevieve is a determined little girl, she knows exactly where she wants to go and can now get there. She may bonk her head on a chair, a corner, a door, or the floor on the way, but her little crawl is quite deliberate. Each little step is full of purpose. Most often, the steps are accompanied by excited panting and lead to the dog who doesn’t appreciate the attention, a dirty pair of shoes or a brightly colored toy. She is already trying to stand up and can do it successfully on the hefty basket filled with musical instruments. We wish she’d slow down; crawling, sitting up and getting a tooth in just a few weeks is a bit much already.

Mainly I am mothering, but besides that I was able to teach my little French class this week and try a few new recipes. My favourite things to cook are new things, especially making things that I may have eaten a million times but never created myself. In this category so far I learned to make mayonnaise, salsa, jam, yogurt, and bread. I have just added to the list: ketchup. I made six bottles and had fun doing it. It turned out pretty good, and has encouraged us to eat more French fries this week. This didn’t bother Matt  Matt has kept busy fathering, working on websites, studying counselling, reading, music publishing, mowing the lawn, and digging the big hole which will soon be our root cellar. He made a footing for the wall of the cellar with some cement which will also serve as a footing for the veranda-to-be. It’s hard to imagine a cellar beneath us, pondering how much I’ll need to grow to fill it.

There is hope though, things are growing beautifully. Life is abundant in my garden, in my family, and in so many places. My sister is pregnant for the second time. Growing, growing, we are all growing. Yesterday I had over an hour on my own in the garden, what a rare and beautifully contemplative hour. I hilled potatoes, and while digging up dirt to throw on the potatoes I found little spinach plants which had blown over from last years spinach gone to seed. I gave them a new home in the hopes of future spinach salads. I staked tomato plants which were also volunteers, I fed celery plants which had self sowed also. I thinned out lettuce plants and gave them new homes among the garlic stalks. Everywhere I weeded, I discovered more volunteer plants that I would soon be able to eat: celery, fennel, anise hyssop, strawberries, watermelons, pumpkins. I planted many seeds a month ago that failed because the chickens dug them up, but right here among the weeds were cucumber plants already growing with no help from me.

This is permaculture, the garden grows itself and chooses what will thrive. This is pure evidence that life is GOOD and abundant. In my beautiful hour alone, I thought back to a visit in Seattle to an organic farm that had regular female prisoners working on the farm. These women got to see what I see, that life is full of goodness. They left with hope and dreamt of a better life. So much crime and societal illness comes from the failure to see that life, creation left to its own devices is innately good. So my blind optimism has changed its goal of weekly markets and everyone eating in season to getting murderers, rapists, and thieves to live a few years on the land and watch goodness growing up out of the dirt. The only hitch is…who will take the risk of farming next door to the criminals? That’s a big hitch, yes. Don’t worry, I am laughing at myself here. The English sent their criminals away to do this very thing. They decided to send them all to Australia, this was their answer to the neighbour question.

Enough of my ponderings, I bid you good night. Genevieve has woken three times
since I began writing, what a hopeless sleeper. Here’s wishing you a week with endless reminders that life is good, and a lot of good sleep.

Peace,
Shana