I finally taught myself to knit last week; I don't know why I had such a block, especially since a friend taught me 10 years ago.
I bought wooden needles for myself, oh, two years ago. I knew I needed to learn so I could teach the boys in grade 1. Well, they didn't even get the hang of spool knitting, so I was let off the hook (or needle, as it were). This year I was bound and determined to learn, and after reading The Knitting Circle: A Novel by Ann Hood I decided to learn that very night (last Wednesday).
So I did learn. I can cast on, and I can do the knit stitch. My tension is pretty good. I tried English and Continental and I think I'm a "thrower", although Continental is supposed to be easier for crocheters. Yesterday I went to a new yarn shop in town, and tonight I went to a knitting circle.
The boys are so excited! T-Guy is just positive that knitting with needles will be easier than spool knitting. We sanded dowels yesterday, and hopefully we'll make the ends tomorrow or Friday. Then I'm going to take them to the shop to pick out yarn, and perhaps to have the shop owners help get them started. Of course, we need to read the knitting story first.
This is me, living Enki my way.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
We Interrupt This Block to Bring You...Summer!
Please ignore my last blog post. I'd erase it, however, someone out there might be getting something out of my planning, so for now I'll leave it up.
Earlier in April, I started a blog post that I never finished nor posted. Here is an excerpt:
One thing I've learned is to stop putting dates on my plans. I tend toward perfectionism and I hate when I see dates on the block plan and know we didn't make them. I still want to use the plan, but then have to revise it. So my new rule is no dates.
Obviously, I didn't follow my own rules when I came up with that last plan. I came up with it in good faith; in fact, that draft had these very words written:
I feel as though my own life has been on hold for some time now. We've worked on and off through my health issues, J-Baby's health issues, and now my grandfather's death. It has been a time of observation, and of growth. I've been able to assess and refine priorities. I'm ready to take up Enki again; which isn't exactly how I would like to say it, because I don't think we ever gave up Enki. Once something is part of you it continues with you.
Still, I'm ready to do the work necessary to mesh Enki education with my newest ideas about living and learning. Luckily, I have the grade 2 map in my mind, and all it really takes is moving back into an active mode.
We did try. We had one day that the lessons really clicked, and then the boys realized that Grandma was watching The Price is Right while we were doing lessons. All motivation was lost. We decided to hold off on focused work until Grandma went home. That was nearly two weeks ago, and we're still adrift.
It came to me last night: we are all highly disintegrated, both as individuals and as a family. It has been eight weeks since we've had a weekend spent fully at home. Part of that is because we spent a lot of time traveling back and forth between northern and southern California, part of that is because we had Grandma here, part of it was having things we were interested in doing, and part of it has been birthdays and holidays.
I'm not a quality time person. I believe in quantity time, and quiet days at home. Honestly, I've been running away; making play dates, scheduling fun weekend outings, running errands (oh, the freedom to just go somewhere, something we couldn't do when Grandma was here.) My grief and the accompanying stress has made me cranky, and when I can't find integration within myself I certainly can't integrate with my family. We stopped dancing, and everyone is tiptoeing around me. They want me, they need me, and I haven't been able to give fully. I'm not open. I'm sad and worried, and instead of working through that I seek diversion.
What the heck does this have to do with summer and our current grade 2 block? Well, I opened my eyes last night, and realized that the long days are upon us. The garden chores grow weekly. We cook outside, we eat outside, we play and talk and sing outside. The calendar may say spring, but my heart has been searching for summer, and here she is, knocking at my door.
I'm very tired of the shoulds, and I've decided that I want to focus on three things: working through my grief and worry (by slowing down and allowing myself to feel what I am feeling), rebuilding my relationship with my family (by giving them plenty of my time), and teaching my boys to read well (by giving them plenty of my time, and letting all the other stuff go for now). So that's it. I give myself permission not to read nature stories, not to do word journals, not to teach Spanish, not to plan crafts, and most of all, not to worry that I'm not doing circle, or seasonal crafts, or number verses, or whatever it is that I think I should be doing.
I just want summer. Mornings and evenings on the front porch. Dinner on the back deck. Impromptu ukulele lessons. Singing together. I don't want a busy, crazy summer; I want the slow, lazy summer of my youth. Hours melting into days melting into weeks. Time for us all to grow in the sunshine. Time to live.
For me, summer was cantaloupe filled with chocolate ice cream ~ for breakfast! Sleeping in, and then eating breakfast in a comfy chair out front, bowl in my lap, book in my hand. Endless sleepovers. Evening games of kickball with the entire neighborhood. Waiting until dark to do any chores because it was too hot during the day. The year my dad worked the swing shift we'd stay up late, playing cards and other games. We'd eat sandwiches and fruit for dinner so we wouldn't have to heat the kitchen, and to keep the dishes to a minimum. Most of all I read; outside if it was cool, on the couch, in my parents' water bed, snuggled up in the top bunk that was my haven. We rarely went anywhere, even on the weekends. Special times were truly special, not an every weekend occurrence.
There are so many summer sensations that I can recall. Sticky sweet watermelon juice dripping down my face, the scent of a ripe cantaloupe and the feel of it half-frozen against my tongue because of the ice cream. The icy cool air in the city library, so cold that I'd want a sweater in July. The swirl of my tongue around an ice cream cone from Thrifty's, and the crunch of the cone itself. The thud of a ball kicked out of the yard. The shrill call of my best friend's whistle across the fence. The rainbow that the sprinkler made at high noon, the cool of the water against my skin, and the glistening of each drop of water on a blade of grass. Sand between my toes and in my mouth, the taste of salt water, the force of a big wave.
All of these sensations, and so many books. I could get lost in the books all summer long; live in other houses, other countries, other families. Reading was my joy. I don't see that in my boys; they love stories, yes, but they can't access them the way I could. It's time to put aside everything else I want to believe and see if reading is something that can be taught. It may be that I can teach my boys the skills they need, and combined with giving them time to snuggle and practice we can get past Frog and Toad and Great Day For Up. Maybe it won't work at all, but I am reminded that many things must be taught, and many children do learn to read. I think they are ready; we've waited, and now we will immerse ourselves in this new task.
I realize now that everything else will still be there: Stalking Wolf and Benito Juarez and John Muir. It isn't the end of the world if they aren't learning Spanish at ages 7 and 8. I have to stop thinking that mud pies and spontaneous paper collages are somehow less important than carefully selected and planned seasonal crafts. Everything doesn't have to happen right now. There is no Enki fairy, no Waldorf fairy who is going to frown at me and tell me that I missed the boat when I skipped saints, sages, and heroes in grade 2. There are only my children, bright and open, smiling at me, wanting Mama more than anything else in the world. That is who I have to give them, and the rest will happen organically. We'll live, we'll love, and doing that we will learn.
Earlier in April, I started a blog post that I never finished nor posted. Here is an excerpt:
One thing I've learned is to stop putting dates on my plans. I tend toward perfectionism and I hate when I see dates on the block plan and know we didn't make them. I still want to use the plan, but then have to revise it. So my new rule is no dates.
Obviously, I didn't follow my own rules when I came up with that last plan. I came up with it in good faith; in fact, that draft had these very words written:
I feel as though my own life has been on hold for some time now. We've worked on and off through my health issues, J-Baby's health issues, and now my grandfather's death. It has been a time of observation, and of growth. I've been able to assess and refine priorities. I'm ready to take up Enki again; which isn't exactly how I would like to say it, because I don't think we ever gave up Enki. Once something is part of you it continues with you.
Still, I'm ready to do the work necessary to mesh Enki education with my newest ideas about living and learning. Luckily, I have the grade 2 map in my mind, and all it really takes is moving back into an active mode.
We did try. We had one day that the lessons really clicked, and then the boys realized that Grandma was watching The Price is Right while we were doing lessons. All motivation was lost. We decided to hold off on focused work until Grandma went home. That was nearly two weeks ago, and we're still adrift.
It came to me last night: we are all highly disintegrated, both as individuals and as a family. It has been eight weeks since we've had a weekend spent fully at home. Part of that is because we spent a lot of time traveling back and forth between northern and southern California, part of that is because we had Grandma here, part of it was having things we were interested in doing, and part of it has been birthdays and holidays.
I'm not a quality time person. I believe in quantity time, and quiet days at home. Honestly, I've been running away; making play dates, scheduling fun weekend outings, running errands (oh, the freedom to just go somewhere, something we couldn't do when Grandma was here.) My grief and the accompanying stress has made me cranky, and when I can't find integration within myself I certainly can't integrate with my family. We stopped dancing, and everyone is tiptoeing around me. They want me, they need me, and I haven't been able to give fully. I'm not open. I'm sad and worried, and instead of working through that I seek diversion.
What the heck does this have to do with summer and our current grade 2 block? Well, I opened my eyes last night, and realized that the long days are upon us. The garden chores grow weekly. We cook outside, we eat outside, we play and talk and sing outside. The calendar may say spring, but my heart has been searching for summer, and here she is, knocking at my door.
I'm very tired of the shoulds, and I've decided that I want to focus on three things: working through my grief and worry (by slowing down and allowing myself to feel what I am feeling), rebuilding my relationship with my family (by giving them plenty of my time), and teaching my boys to read well (by giving them plenty of my time, and letting all the other stuff go for now). So that's it. I give myself permission not to read nature stories, not to do word journals, not to teach Spanish, not to plan crafts, and most of all, not to worry that I'm not doing circle, or seasonal crafts, or number verses, or whatever it is that I think I should be doing.
I just want summer. Mornings and evenings on the front porch. Dinner on the back deck. Impromptu ukulele lessons. Singing together. I don't want a busy, crazy summer; I want the slow, lazy summer of my youth. Hours melting into days melting into weeks. Time for us all to grow in the sunshine. Time to live.
For me, summer was cantaloupe filled with chocolate ice cream ~ for breakfast! Sleeping in, and then eating breakfast in a comfy chair out front, bowl in my lap, book in my hand. Endless sleepovers. Evening games of kickball with the entire neighborhood. Waiting until dark to do any chores because it was too hot during the day. The year my dad worked the swing shift we'd stay up late, playing cards and other games. We'd eat sandwiches and fruit for dinner so we wouldn't have to heat the kitchen, and to keep the dishes to a minimum. Most of all I read; outside if it was cool, on the couch, in my parents' water bed, snuggled up in the top bunk that was my haven. We rarely went anywhere, even on the weekends. Special times were truly special, not an every weekend occurrence.
There are so many summer sensations that I can recall. Sticky sweet watermelon juice dripping down my face, the scent of a ripe cantaloupe and the feel of it half-frozen against my tongue because of the ice cream. The icy cool air in the city library, so cold that I'd want a sweater in July. The swirl of my tongue around an ice cream cone from Thrifty's, and the crunch of the cone itself. The thud of a ball kicked out of the yard. The shrill call of my best friend's whistle across the fence. The rainbow that the sprinkler made at high noon, the cool of the water against my skin, and the glistening of each drop of water on a blade of grass. Sand between my toes and in my mouth, the taste of salt water, the force of a big wave.
All of these sensations, and so many books. I could get lost in the books all summer long; live in other houses, other countries, other families. Reading was my joy. I don't see that in my boys; they love stories, yes, but they can't access them the way I could. It's time to put aside everything else I want to believe and see if reading is something that can be taught. It may be that I can teach my boys the skills they need, and combined with giving them time to snuggle and practice we can get past Frog and Toad and Great Day For Up. Maybe it won't work at all, but I am reminded that many things must be taught, and many children do learn to read. I think they are ready; we've waited, and now we will immerse ourselves in this new task.
I realize now that everything else will still be there: Stalking Wolf and Benito Juarez and John Muir. It isn't the end of the world if they aren't learning Spanish at ages 7 and 8. I have to stop thinking that mud pies and spontaneous paper collages are somehow less important than carefully selected and planned seasonal crafts. Everything doesn't have to happen right now. There is no Enki fairy, no Waldorf fairy who is going to frown at me and tell me that I missed the boat when I skipped saints, sages, and heroes in grade 2. There are only my children, bright and open, smiling at me, wanting Mama more than anything else in the world. That is who I have to give them, and the rest will happen organically. We'll live, we'll love, and doing that we will learn.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Finding People You Didn't Know You Were Looking For
It's an odd concept I suppose, and I wasn't really sure which blog I should post this on. Then I realized that I am so very open to the idea of reconnecting with old friends precisely because I have simplified my life, cleared the emotional clutter, and become very happy with my life and who I am.
My 20 year high school reunion is approaching. Several months ago I traded emails with an classmate I've know since I was 9, and I was somewhat excited about attending the upcoming reunion. She and I weren't close in high school, however, and over the months my interest waned. What if the reunion was a lot like Papa's 10 year reunion, where the cliques still gathered and the pretty girls and handsome boys still stole the show?
I'll admit that I didn't do a good job of keeping in touch with the young women with whom I was close my last year of high school. We tried for a year or two after high school, but then life pulled us in different directions. Honestly, I wasn't even a good friend to myself back then. I was completely immersed in my marriage (I married at 19) and in the experiences I was encountering in college. I had a crash course in growing up.
My life hasn't always been easy; in fact, I would say it isn't exactly easy now, just simple. Such is the case of the examined life. However there were years where I really struggled to figure out who I was and what I wanted from life. There are years I wish I could have back. I always had the bedrock foundation of my relationship with Papa, but internally I was lost. The corporate world sucked the life from me, and it took years to rebuild myself, to find out how to create the life I wanted.
Here I am now, and my life seems really together...and for the most part it really is. I'm still human; I get irritable, I get sad, I get scared, I get overwhelmed. Yet my life is full of wonderful things, and because of this I am more open to the world and its possibilities.
So an old friend sends an email from out of the blue, and I'm happy. I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I am in life. I realize that I don't have to be insecure. Again, I am reminded that friendships don't have to be all or nothing. I can ride the wave for awhile, and see where it goes. I find that I am genuinely interested in finding out about these women's lives. I want to know if they are happy, and if the years have been good, and even if they've been difficult has the journey been worth it? Where did they go after we all drifted apart? Where did the adventure that is life take them?
I know that not everyone will want to be found; I know that 10 years ago I would have hidden in my cave and rebuffed any attempts at reconnection. Still, there is possibility. We could catch up and drift apart again, or we could become fast friends, or we might end up somewhere in the middle, sending emails now and then.
I am reminded that my grandmother said that it is worth it to take time to cultivate friendships, and to revive them and reconnect. I see that as we get older we become less self-absorbed, more open, more able to give and more willing to receive.
I am so thankful for the friendships I have in my life right now, the women with whom I form a circle, the women that helped change my world.
My 20 year high school reunion is approaching. Several months ago I traded emails with an classmate I've know since I was 9, and I was somewhat excited about attending the upcoming reunion. She and I weren't close in high school, however, and over the months my interest waned. What if the reunion was a lot like Papa's 10 year reunion, where the cliques still gathered and the pretty girls and handsome boys still stole the show?
I'll admit that I didn't do a good job of keeping in touch with the young women with whom I was close my last year of high school. We tried for a year or two after high school, but then life pulled us in different directions. Honestly, I wasn't even a good friend to myself back then. I was completely immersed in my marriage (I married at 19) and in the experiences I was encountering in college. I had a crash course in growing up.
My life hasn't always been easy; in fact, I would say it isn't exactly easy now, just simple. Such is the case of the examined life. However there were years where I really struggled to figure out who I was and what I wanted from life. There are years I wish I could have back. I always had the bedrock foundation of my relationship with Papa, but internally I was lost. The corporate world sucked the life from me, and it took years to rebuild myself, to find out how to create the life I wanted.
Here I am now, and my life seems really together...and for the most part it really is. I'm still human; I get irritable, I get sad, I get scared, I get overwhelmed. Yet my life is full of wonderful things, and because of this I am more open to the world and its possibilities.
So an old friend sends an email from out of the blue, and I'm happy. I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I am in life. I realize that I don't have to be insecure. Again, I am reminded that friendships don't have to be all or nothing. I can ride the wave for awhile, and see where it goes. I find that I am genuinely interested in finding out about these women's lives. I want to know if they are happy, and if the years have been good, and even if they've been difficult has the journey been worth it? Where did they go after we all drifted apart? Where did the adventure that is life take them?
I know that not everyone will want to be found; I know that 10 years ago I would have hidden in my cave and rebuffed any attempts at reconnection. Still, there is possibility. We could catch up and drift apart again, or we could become fast friends, or we might end up somewhere in the middle, sending emails now and then.
I am reminded that my grandmother said that it is worth it to take time to cultivate friendships, and to revive them and reconnect. I see that as we get older we become less self-absorbed, more open, more able to give and more willing to receive.
I am so thankful for the friendships I have in my life right now, the women with whom I form a circle, the women that helped change my world.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Simple Satisfaction 5/8/07
Eating spinach from the garden.
Fixing 3 clothespins.
Sitting with friends at the park.
Realizing that last year's capris are really too big.
Bare feet on clean floors.
Eating out on the deck.
Walking to the library.
Making it in time for story telling, and sitting quietly while the boys listened.
Listening to Papa play the guitar.
Starting a new book.
Fixing 3 clothespins.
Sitting with friends at the park.
Realizing that last year's capris are really too big.
Bare feet on clean floors.
Eating out on the deck.
Walking to the library.
Making it in time for story telling, and sitting quietly while the boys listened.
Listening to Papa play the guitar.
Starting a new book.
Little Things
Do you realize that little things really can make a difference? Sometimes we get so caught up in all of the big things that we can't do that we forget the little things that we can do. Here is a small list for inspiration.
1) If you have a hot water heater tank, and it takes a long time for your hot water to reach the tap, and you really end up washing your hands in cold water anyway, then don't turn on the hot water tap. All you do is drain hot water from your hot water heater, bring it into the pipes (where it cools), and bring cold water into the hot water heater tank, where it has to work to heat it.
2) In addition, find something to do with the cold water that comes out of the hot water tap instead of just letting it run down the drain. Save it in a bucket to water plants or flush the toilet. Use it to fill the dog's water bowl, or to wash it. If you're filling a bath for little ones, put the stopper in, turn the hot on by itself, let it run until the water in the tub is warm, and then adjust the taps to the desired temperature.
3) Don't flush every time you pee. Really. It isn't gross, and if you use cloth toilet wipes you don't have to worry about too much toilet paper going down at once. Think about it; here in America we pee into clean drinking water. Millions across the globe don't even have clean drinking water for drinking.
4) Share the bath. Bring your infant or toddler into the bath with you when you bathe. Have small children bathe together. Heck, around here I'll leave my water in the tub and Papa will bathe the boys in it once I'm done, and then give them a quick rinse off.
(Yes, I usually take a bath. My compromise it to take one every other day, and to only take a nice full bath once a week.)
5) Take your own bags to the store. Once you put your items away at home, put the bags back in the car so they'll be there for the next time. Bags are easy to come by at thrift stores, yard sales, and as give-aways. These days most of the grocery stores by me offer some sort of reusable grocery bag for only 99 cents, so for $5- $6 you can have bags even if you have to pay full price. And yes, you can take your own bags into stores other than grocery stores. They may look at you funny, but you can still do it.
6) Eat your leftovers.
7) Take advantage of natural light. I used to go back on forth on whether I preferred to bathe at night or in the morning. Once I figured out that I could bathe in the morning without turning on a light the decision was firmly made. I've learned that there are a lot of things I can do without flipping on a light, just by readjusting my expectations and habits.
8) Walk short errands. It isn't hard to do; we just happen to be a generation that thinks nothing of getting in the car to go 1/2 mile. 1/2 mile is a 10 minute walk at a moderate pace (3 m.p.h., which even a preschooler can manage). It astounds me that people will drive a couple of miles to a gym to walk on a treadmill. Walk when the weather is good, walk when it's a little rainy, walk when it's a little hot.
9) Don't buy mechanical pencils. They may be more convenient, but why buy something plastic when you don't have to?
10) Ditch plastic trash bags. Either use your plastic or metal bin without a bag and wash it out regularly, or change it completely. I use a wine box with a paper bag in it. We take out the paper bag full of garbage once or twice a week, and the box lasts for months. In the end it is all compostable/degradable. How do I end up with paper bags? We forget the cloth bags every now and then, and always ask for paper instead of plastic.
Okay, there are 10 little things. They're easy, and they will make a difference if enough people make the choice.
1) If you have a hot water heater tank, and it takes a long time for your hot water to reach the tap, and you really end up washing your hands in cold water anyway, then don't turn on the hot water tap. All you do is drain hot water from your hot water heater, bring it into the pipes (where it cools), and bring cold water into the hot water heater tank, where it has to work to heat it.
2) In addition, find something to do with the cold water that comes out of the hot water tap instead of just letting it run down the drain. Save it in a bucket to water plants or flush the toilet. Use it to fill the dog's water bowl, or to wash it. If you're filling a bath for little ones, put the stopper in, turn the hot on by itself, let it run until the water in the tub is warm, and then adjust the taps to the desired temperature.
3) Don't flush every time you pee. Really. It isn't gross, and if you use cloth toilet wipes you don't have to worry about too much toilet paper going down at once. Think about it; here in America we pee into clean drinking water. Millions across the globe don't even have clean drinking water for drinking.
4) Share the bath. Bring your infant or toddler into the bath with you when you bathe. Have small children bathe together. Heck, around here I'll leave my water in the tub and Papa will bathe the boys in it once I'm done, and then give them a quick rinse off.
(Yes, I usually take a bath. My compromise it to take one every other day, and to only take a nice full bath once a week.)
5) Take your own bags to the store. Once you put your items away at home, put the bags back in the car so they'll be there for the next time. Bags are easy to come by at thrift stores, yard sales, and as give-aways. These days most of the grocery stores by me offer some sort of reusable grocery bag for only 99 cents, so for $5- $6 you can have bags even if you have to pay full price. And yes, you can take your own bags into stores other than grocery stores. They may look at you funny, but you can still do it.
6) Eat your leftovers.
7) Take advantage of natural light. I used to go back on forth on whether I preferred to bathe at night or in the morning. Once I figured out that I could bathe in the morning without turning on a light the decision was firmly made. I've learned that there are a lot of things I can do without flipping on a light, just by readjusting my expectations and habits.
8) Walk short errands. It isn't hard to do; we just happen to be a generation that thinks nothing of getting in the car to go 1/2 mile. 1/2 mile is a 10 minute walk at a moderate pace (3 m.p.h., which even a preschooler can manage). It astounds me that people will drive a couple of miles to a gym to walk on a treadmill. Walk when the weather is good, walk when it's a little rainy, walk when it's a little hot.
9) Don't buy mechanical pencils. They may be more convenient, but why buy something plastic when you don't have to?
10) Ditch plastic trash bags. Either use your plastic or metal bin without a bag and wash it out regularly, or change it completely. I use a wine box with a paper bag in it. We take out the paper bag full of garbage once or twice a week, and the box lasts for months. In the end it is all compostable/degradable. How do I end up with paper bags? We forget the cloth bags every now and then, and always ask for paper instead of plastic.
Okay, there are 10 little things. They're easy, and they will make a difference if enough people make the choice.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Contest Winners!
Okay, NatchraLeigh and Summer are the only two who left comments, so I am going to send them both a prize! Please email me with your names and addresses, and we'll mail out on Friday!
Photos! (and Don't Forget the Contest!)
I think I have finally figured out how to add photos pretty easily, although I can't promise that I will always remember to take photos. How's that for committed?
Don't forget the weekly contest. Monday is drawing to a close, and there are only two comments on the contest post for tonight's drawing. Also, I've added new posts today, a comment to any of which will get you added to next Monday's drawing. As a recap, the prizes for next Monday's drawing are:
1) A copy of the premiere issue of Somerset Studio magazine (paper crafts) ~or~
2) An unopened packet of Ferry-Morse Alyssum (Royal Carpet) seeds ~or~
3) A loom knit baby cap, 100% wool ~or~
4) Decorating For Christmas, a hardbound book put out by The Home Decorating Institute
Don't forget the weekly contest. Monday is drawing to a close, and there are only two comments on the contest post for tonight's drawing. Also, I've added new posts today, a comment to any of which will get you added to next Monday's drawing. As a recap, the prizes for next Monday's drawing are:
1) A copy of the premiere issue of Somerset Studio magazine (paper crafts) ~or~
2) An unopened packet of Ferry-Morse Alyssum (Royal Carpet) seeds ~or~
3) A loom knit baby cap, 100% wool ~or~
4) Decorating For Christmas, a hardbound book put out by The Home Decorating Institute
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