I can’t resist another one
Posted on July 23, 2008 - Filed Under Mindful Parenting
Luc, laying on the floor in a rather formal posture, says, “I’m pretending I’m dead.”
Me: “Oh, interesting. What is it like?”
Luc: “I’m turning into dirt.”
Me: “Huh. What’s that feel like?”
Luc thinks about it. “Dirty.”
sophie’s anatomy class
Posted on July 22, 2008 - Filed Under Mindful Parenting
I love listening to the kids play. They come up with the most amazing stuff. RIght now Sophie is making complex pirate costumes for both of them, all with construction paper and yards and yards of tape.
A lot of the time they play around themes, for example, last week I hurt my knee and so there was a lot of body/injury games as they worked out what had happened to me. Luc runs up to me at one point and says, “Sophie is my doctor and I have a broken leg bone.” Sophie, walking by, rolls her eyes and says in this exasperated tone, “He won’t let me put a cast on.” Luc runs off, but then a minute later he comes up to me, pointing at his throat and says, “Do I have any bones in here?”
That afternoon they got the body book out (this anatomy book we have with lots of huge, color pictures) and poured over it for a surprisingly long time. This is some of what I overheard:
Sophie, pointing to a picture of a skeleton says, “This is what if your body was all apart and just bones.”
Luc: “Why would it be just bones?”
Sophie: “If you were dead.”
“Oh.”
Turn page. Luc: “Why is the brain all those colors?”
Sophie: “Its the different parts of the brain. It’s where you think different thoughts.”
At this point I am madly making notes, trying to be inconspicuous so they won’t notice that I’m spying on them.
Luc points to another picture of skull bones and says, “This is my bones.”
Sophie: “No, Luc, it’s a picture of someone else’s bones.”
“Oh.”
Turn page. “What’s this stuff, Mom?” She’s pointing at some yellow lumps in a cross section of a throat.
I read the caption. “Saliva glands. It’s where your spit comes from.”
Luc looks concerned. “Do I have it?”
Sophie: “You have spit don’t you?”
“Oh.”
It goes on and on. I don’t have the time to transcribe all the cool stuff they say. Maybe I should hire someone.
great guinea massacre III
Posted on July 18, 2008 - Filed Under Honeymilk Farm
Oh, man, today we lost four of our five guineas. Poor things! And the poor single guinea left, traumatized and alone, keeps making her fear-peep out there in her violated guinea pen. Hard to say what it was that got them, but the chickens had scattered–two taking up residence inside the goat yard and two out in the woods (luckily finding their way home eventually). We are all a bit sad around here. Paul has sworn to increase guinea security, but I fear it may be too late.
As you can guess from the post title, this is not the first or even the second time this has happened. For three years running we have gotten guinea chicks, only to lose the lot of them to unknown circumstances. The first time, it was twenty adult guineas (!), while we were away. There were feathers everywhere. The second time, six babies disappeared silently in the night. Today it was four of five, yanked from their wire enclosure without lifting the lid, a Houdini crime for Ocean’s 11. I mean 12. Um, 13.
But, the real question is will the Last Guinea Left Standing make it to adult-hood? She’s about half-way there, but quite demoralized today. I’m hoping the chickens let her join their flock as an honorary chicken. It’s too big and scary a world be a lone guinea.
screen time for fun and profit
Posted on July 17, 2008 - Filed Under Mindful Parenting, Unschooling
Kids and computers are an incredible combination. I remember the old Commodore 64 I had when I was a kid–I was just fascinated by it, and used to type in these pages and pages of number code to get some clunky, worthless game, and I just adored it. Remember those commercials with Bach Invention No. 13? I still feel excited about computers when I play that song.
I am so glad my mom never chose to put stupid limits on when or how much I was on the computer (or watching tv). But what I hear, over and over, in the mommy circles, is parents thinking they need to limit ’screen time,’ by which they mean, reading, writing, making art, communicating with friends, watching stories, listening to music, making music, playing games, looking something up, being entertained, studying something, etc etc…if and when any of these activities includes a monitor. Which strikes me as about as idiotic as lumping all, similar, paper-related activities together and putting limits on ‘page time.’ How condescending to one’s kid is that?
Anyway, a month ago or so my 2 and a half year old, Luc, just *poof* started drawing images. It was so cool, like his little brain just flipped a switch. The same hand-eye-connection switch also gave him access to the computer because suddenly, he grokked how to use the mouse. Magic. He couldn’t–and then he could.
RIght now, one of his favorites is Poisson Rouge (french for ‘red fish’) or “Red Fiss,” as Luc calls it. This is about the coolest site, ever, with a bazillion little games, elegantly designed, all accessible and interesting to a very small person, partially because there is no reading involved. Smash glass bottles, light up constellations on a star map, take a submarine around an ocean full of creatures and games, move posable dolls around, play with optical illusions, find bugs in the leaves, it goes on and on.
His other favorite is Tux Paint , an open source, free, drawing program, that is incredibly intuitive. Just sit the kid down in front of it and a few minutes later they are engrossed in creating art. Luc calls it “Penguin” due to the Linux-inspired program mascot. “Mommy, can you set me up with Penguin?” he says. Only it sounds like ‘peen-dwin.’ One cool thing Peen-dwin can do is ’stamps’ where you can choose from hundreds of images and stamp them anywhere in your drawing, in any size, making these cool collage-like pictures. Luc adores this, and has been working, lately on his frogs series, piles and piles of pictures of frogs in of all sizes, and colors, go figure.
The resources, fun, tools, and information available in our yurt, due to the computer/internet combo, is astonishing to me. I would sooner limit library access or ‘yard time’ then limit their time using such an amazing tool. Yesterday, I said, “I wonder what time Paul is coming home,” and Sophie said, “Let’s google it!” What we did, instead, was google-maps his office. And there it was, in satellite image. We waved. “Hi Daddy!”
Here is two year old Sophie playing “Moon Match.” Luc has just figured this game out. We walk around singing the song from it, which, oddly enough, goes, “I’m the maaaaan that you need, I’m the maaaaan that you need.” I think it is a Man in the Moon reference, but I could be wrong.
And, MAN, that old monitor was SO SMALL! How did we ever stand it? I say, don’t limit screen time–get a bigger monitor.
a good weekend was had by all
Posted on July 14, 2008 - Filed Under Alternative Building, Bees, Everything Else
Here is a shot that Sophie got of me going about my Honeymilk Farm chores this morning. I look really sleepy. She said I should put it on the blog, though, so I am. I love how her photos are from such a different perspective (three feet off the ground). Often when she takes pictures of me, they go straight up my nose.
In other news, we went to check the bees yesterday. Here they are, chillin on the front porch, coming and going, shucking and jiving.
They are doing really well, bee business is booming. Unfortunately for us, however, they are booming in a way that makes it impossible to get into their hive without tearing it up. They got off to a rough start with the whole hive-missing-in-the-mail thing. Here is a shot of the inside, completely gummed up with comb.
Those bars are supposed to lift-out-able, but no way, as the bees have stuck them all together. I figure, they’re doing well, so I’ll leave them to it. However, next spring, if they make it through the winter, I’ll have to crack it open and help them start over. Sorry bees! There is a way to cut comb off and kind of sew it to the bars so you get some straight brood comb, but it is hard to do with new comb like this, new comb being so fragile. But next spring, that might be the thing to do. Well, it’s all a learning process.
And here is what Paul has been working on. The Man Shack. Okay, he calls it the ‘tool shed’ but really, its a boy’s fort house that has the sign on the door saying “no wives allowed!’
It’s kind of like a quilt sampler isn’t it? Stone work, cordwood, recycled materials, beams cut from the trees we cleared when we put the yurt in. It’s probably bulletproof, bombproof, those tools will definitely be safe in there, barring direct nuclear strike. I like the lion’s head door knocker. A fitting, masculine touch.
And finally, a happy birthday key lime pie for Paul. Happy Birthday, Paul!
ask a stupid question…
Posted on July 11, 2008 - Filed Under Everything Else
Luc, 2 years old, says, “Mom, I want to wash my hands. They are covered in spit.”
Me: “Ewwww. How did that happen?”
“I spit on them.” And he gives me this very patient look, like I am lovable, but regrettably slow. He’s probably right….
why does writing inspire so much more ambition than other hobbies?
Posted on July 11, 2008 - Filed Under Writing
I just love this quote:
What I find interesting is how many people think the only reason to write is to be published, and that publication legitimizes ones efforts somehow. Is there any other endeavor that carries such a load of assumptions?
Most of the people who run marathons know they aren’t going to come anywhere close to winning, but they run anyway. Most people who take up a musical instrument don’t expect to play at the local VFW Hall, let alone Carnegie Hall. Many people are very happy to paint watercolors that will hang on no one’s walls but their own, make beer that will never be served in a bar, or grow tomatoes that will never be for sale at the local supermarket.
No one thinks it odd that people have these hobbies and in fact, people usually speak respectfully of the gardeners, quilters, and other hobbyists in their midst without ever saying, “Well, Bob is just wasting his time restoring that GTO. He’s not a REAL mechanic because no one pays him to work in an auto repair shop.”
I wonder why writing is viewed by so many as something that’s not worth doing unless it results in a gloss-covered product on the shelf of Barnes & Noble?
Good point! This is from a comment made on literary agent Nathan Bransford’s blog, which you can find here.
re-runs for art
Posted on July 10, 2008 - Filed Under Writing
When I was in my twenties, I had this whole thing about ‘life is short, repeat nothing.’ I felt like there was so much to experience, and so little time. Watching a rerun, or re-reading a book, that was the same as flushing that time down the potty. And since I have always had a really good memory for stories (it’s kind of freaky, I can’t tell you what day it is, most times, but I can recall complicated plot lines, including lines of dialogue, from movies I saw a decade ago) it really seemed like there was no point in going over the same ground again. On to the next thing, that was my motto.
My Sophie, 4, has no such judgments. Fearlessly she lets herself love what she loves, in whatever way, for however long, she cares to. It’s part of her play, to repeat stories, over and over, watching, reading, drawing, acting portions of them out, until at some point, she’s done, and on to the next thing. I think this is so cool. She trusts her creative process. Unlike me, who constantly questions my process, wondering if I’m wasting my time, fiddle-faddling, and shouldn’t I get on with some more valuable use of my time?
Right now, she’s into the Pixar movie, Monster’s Inc. She has watched it every night for the past week. Before that it was Ratatouille. Here is a picture she drew, Sully the Scarer is in the middle, Mike the little, green, one-eyed guy, to the right, and the gal with the snakes for hair is on the left. I asked her about the orange creature and she said she would point him out to me next time she watches.
Is creative process the same thing, basically, as play? People say play is fun, but I don’t think it is, exactly, not all the time. Sometimes I see my kids really struggling in their play, trying to get it the way they want it, sometimes going through periods of hard work with intense focus, sometimes getting bored and giving up on something and moving on. Sometimes it flows and they’re having a great time, of course, but sometimes…not so much. Which pretty much perfectly describes what it is like to write a novel.
Following Sophie’s lead, I have been letting myself watch this movie-which-will-remain-unnamed over and over, because I like it, or I’m fascinated by parts of it, or maybe it’s just wanking off, I’m not sure, but watching it, taking notes, thinking about the bits that move me…it feels like I’m trying to metabolize something. So that, perhaps, those elements show up in a new Maya-fied shape in my current novel. I’ve been calling it “my research.” And maybe it is. Or maybe I’m just playing. Or maybe there isn’t a difference. There doesn’t seem to be a difference for Sophie.
My twenty-something year old self wouldn’t approve. But some people’s creative process involves a bottle of alcohol every night, you know? I’ve just got all this angst, and right now, this movie watching thing. So maybe I’m just going to go with it and see where it takes me. I wish I could be as fearless as my four year old.
how to build a yurt (9 of 10)
Posted on July 9, 2008 - Filed Under Alternative Building
The top photos show the roof going on. This huge, cone-shaped piece of heavy-duty vinyl stuff weighed a ton. The first pic on the top left shows the crew raising it up, one grueling inch at a time, to get it through the skylight. The picture on the middle right shows three strong guys popping their muscles to pull half of it into place. Aside from following the scant instruction manual, getting the roof fabric on was probably the hardest part.
The lower left pictures show Paul installing the five foot wide acrylic dome. We were getting on the afternoon by now and people were getting tired. But only the walls were left at this point….
in which we make another batch of cheese
Posted on July 7, 2008 - Filed Under Goats, Honeymilk Farm
Making cheese is always about separating the curd from the whey. –The Cheese Nun
Chevre is a white, creamy cheese made from goat milk. It can be sharp, perfect with herbs on a cracker, or it can be mild, with less salt, like a bright cream cheese, or a dessert cheese. The steps are extremely similar to making queso blanco: get the milk at the right temp, add some stuff that makes the milk separate into curds and whey, then pour through cheese cloth and hang up to drain. As the Cheese Nun says, the steps in making soft cheeses are always basically the same. Getting a different cheese is all in the details. (Did you know they have man-made cheese aging caves in France that have been in continuous use for a thousand years??? The Cheese Nun has the scoop.)
Here’s what you need:
Half a gallon of goat milk (whole and raw is what we used), 1/8 teaspoon chevre direct set culture, and 1/5 of one drop of rennet. Maybe some salt, unless you want it as a dessert cheese. You also need a stainless steel pot with a lid, a thermometer, and a stainless steel skimmer or slotted spoon.
If the milk is from the fridge, you will want to warm it up to 72 degrees. If the milk is from the goat, you can just pour it into your pot. Unless you’re worried about pasteurization, which some people are. So far, I’m all about raw milk. If I get rushed to the emergency room, you’ll know why.
Okay, so once you get the milk to 72 degrees, you add your chevre culture. Basically, there are all these complicated steps to making a mother culture in ice cube trays, warming this and freezing that–or you can just pay a little more and get the direct set kind which you add directly to the milk. Which do you think I did? Right.
Okay, you dump that stuff in and then you dump in your 1/5 drop of rennet–
–wait a minute, you say, how the heck do you get one fifth of a drop? Well, it’s easy. You put five tablespoons of water in a cup, add one drop of rennet, mix well, and then get one tablespoon of the water and mix it into the milk.
You stir the rennet in through your skimmer, which Sophie tried to get a picture of here. You want the rennet as evenly distributed as possible, and you want to use the absolute minimum amount, lest one’s cheese get rubbery. So if you get rubbery cheese, use less next time.
And that’s it for a while. Put the lid on your pot, put it somewhere warmish, around 75 degrees, and ignore it for sixteen hours or so. Live life. Have a party. Whatever. Just don’t disturb your cheese. Here is what that part looks like:
Okay. You come back and peek in the pot and yuck, what a mess of coagulated milk you have, floating in a mass of greenish liquid. Gross. Still, you ladle that stuff (or pour it, if it isn’t too thick) into your cheese cloth lined colander.
Tie it up like so, hang it from somewhere, and wait five hours more while it drains.
We used the kitchen sink again, which I don’t really recommend because it meant we couldn’t really use the sink all afternoon, so the dishes kept piling up and by the time it was time to eat the cheese, our microscopically small kitchen had disappeared under the weight of them. I had to do some major cropping in the final product photo which is here:
Poof! Chevre! Doesn’t that sound cosmopolitan and rustic all at the same time? What kind of goaty magic is it that performs this slight of hand? Well, anyway, it’s really, really good. We salted it and ate it for breakfast with peach jam on toast. Yum! Thank you Fancy (that would be our currently lactating goat) for the milk!
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