So, we are on a new eating plan, which I plan to write about soon. I had said I wouldn't commit to anything new regarding my diet this summer, but my health demands that I do my best to remove all food toxins, including the plant toxins that I know I have issues with but hadn't eliminated completely.
Anyway (because that really is a different post), I needed to make dinner tonight, and while the chicken noodle soup that I had planned for this evening is very healthy, it didn't quite have the nutritional profile I was looking for (not enough fat and vegetables, mostly), so I decided to make a different soup, a chowder, just riffing off recipes I've made in the past and stored in my head. I wrote out a recipe I thought would work and got cooking.
Oh my yumminess! Seriously, this was an amazing soup. Papa ate it up and had a second (half) serving. The boys had homemade chicken noodle soup; I'd made them try a new dish last night and eating something new two nights in a row is pushing it. But T-Guy did try the chowder and declared it very good, although not as thick as he likes it.
Chicken Vegetable Chowder (Serves 6 - 8)
2 T. bacon fat -or- butter -or- coconut oil -or- extra virgin olive oil (I like to give people a choice)
1 medium onion, chopped fine
1 large zucchini, diced
1 medium carrot, diced -or- 10 baby carrots, sliced (in case you want to make it easy)
Salt and Pepper
2. C cooked, shredded (or diced) chicken (I do this in bulk and freeze it)
2 C. potatoes, diced -or- 2. C plain frozen cubed hash brown potatoes (fresh is better in terms of thickening the chowder, but sometimes you have to hurry)
4 C. chicken broth (I use homemade, but I won't judge anyone who doesn't, and you can use water easily)
1 C. heavy cream
Optional: potato starch
Saute onion in fat for 2 minutes, add zucchini and carrots and saute until onion is translucent, approximately 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add chicken, potatoes, and chicken broth, bring to boil, then lower heat and simmer until potatoes are soft. Add cream and simmer until soup is as thick as you want it.
Note: If you want a thicker chowder combine 4 T. of water and 2 T. of potato starch and add to boiling soup. Cook until it reaches desired thickness and then remove from heat.
I did the food analysis and when divided into 6 portions this soup comes in at 350 calories a (generous) serving, with 19g carbohydrate, 21g protein, and 22g fat.
This is my very simple homemade chicken soup, a dish I can make almost any night since I keep the stock and shredded chicken in the freezer, noodles in the pantry, and almost always have carrots in the fridge.
Homemade Chicken Soup (Serves 4 - 6)
6 C. homemade chicken broth
20 baby carrots sliced
2 C. cooked, shredded chicken
4 - 8 oz. rice noodles
Salt to taste (we use Real Salt)
Heat broth to boiling, add carrots and cooked chicken, return to boiling, then turn down heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Add salt to taste, then add noodles and cook another 8 minutes or so until noodles are soft.
Note: To make chicken and rice soup instead I add 1 - 2 cups of cooked rice to the broth instead of noodles.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
A Midnight Gift
There I was again, up and outside with an unsettled dog. The Big Dog is subtle and patient when he wants out during the day, often sitting nearby and looking at me, or perhaps being more affectionate than usual. It took us awhile to learn his cues (luckily he can hold it for a long time).
When the Big Dog came to live with us he was already five years old, if not older. His understanding of the English language was poor; so poor that we looked up commands in German wondering if he'd been trained in that language. (Nein, he hadn't been.) I remember the excitement we all felt the first time he responded to the word potty by running to the door. Over time he learned more English and along with potty he seems to understand Mama, Papa, bone, water, and ball, plus his basic commands of sit, down, stay, heel, come, wait, no, and okay. Unfortunately, he either fails to understand the word quiet or else he chooses to ignore it. His vocabulary is smaller than the Girl Dog's was, but we'd lived with her since she was a puppy and she spent twelve years learning with us. She was practically telepathic.
At night the Big Dog is a little more insistent when he wants out; it is rather unsettling to have a large dog at the level of my head staring me down intently. Sometimes I will tell him to GO SEE PAPA, and he will trot over to that side of the bed and stare at Papa, but I know that once Papa is in bed I am the one who will most likely get up with a dog. Big Dog knows it too; after a few seconds of directing his gaze at Papa he will trot back over to me and resume the staring, occasionally glancing at the door and willing me to understand. At this point I try to get him to SETTLE DOWN which works sometimes, but not this time.
Out of bed I climbed, on went my sandals and sweater, and together we padded down the hall, Big Dog turning in circles (he is still completely over the moon when I understand Dog). I slipped the leash over his head and we stepped into the cool of midnight.
This story really isn't about a dog needing to go potty and a human taking him out. He actually didn't go, he just sniffed at the grass and air. Then I heard it, a sound I'd been catching in the bedroom but not taking conscious notice of.
Whoo ... whoo ...
(pause)
Whoo ... whoo ...
The owl was nearly on top of me, clearly up in the larger of our Coast Redwood trees. While I have seen an owl up close I have never had one serenade me at such close proximity.
Whoo ... whoo ...
he said, and I was mesmerized. We stood out there, Big Dog and I, listening to the owl in the cool of the evening for at least ten minutes.
We went in. I tried to tell Papa how amazing it was, to get him to come outside, but he was snug and warm and wanted to stay in. Within 30 minutes the owl moved on, but he had already shared his gift with me, one that lingers and still brings a smile to my face.
When the Big Dog came to live with us he was already five years old, if not older. His understanding of the English language was poor; so poor that we looked up commands in German wondering if he'd been trained in that language. (Nein, he hadn't been.) I remember the excitement we all felt the first time he responded to the word potty by running to the door. Over time he learned more English and along with potty he seems to understand Mama, Papa, bone, water, and ball, plus his basic commands of sit, down, stay, heel, come, wait, no, and okay. Unfortunately, he either fails to understand the word quiet or else he chooses to ignore it. His vocabulary is smaller than the Girl Dog's was, but we'd lived with her since she was a puppy and she spent twelve years learning with us. She was practically telepathic.
At night the Big Dog is a little more insistent when he wants out; it is rather unsettling to have a large dog at the level of my head staring me down intently. Sometimes I will tell him to GO SEE PAPA, and he will trot over to that side of the bed and stare at Papa, but I know that once Papa is in bed I am the one who will most likely get up with a dog. Big Dog knows it too; after a few seconds of directing his gaze at Papa he will trot back over to me and resume the staring, occasionally glancing at the door and willing me to understand. At this point I try to get him to SETTLE DOWN which works sometimes, but not this time.
Out of bed I climbed, on went my sandals and sweater, and together we padded down the hall, Big Dog turning in circles (he is still completely over the moon when I understand Dog). I slipped the leash over his head and we stepped into the cool of midnight.
This story really isn't about a dog needing to go potty and a human taking him out. He actually didn't go, he just sniffed at the grass and air. Then I heard it, a sound I'd been catching in the bedroom but not taking conscious notice of.
Whoo ... whoo ...
(pause)
Whoo ... whoo ...
The owl was nearly on top of me, clearly up in the larger of our Coast Redwood trees. While I have seen an owl up close I have never had one serenade me at such close proximity.
Whoo ... whoo ...
he said, and I was mesmerized. We stood out there, Big Dog and I, listening to the owl in the cool of the evening for at least ten minutes.
We went in. I tried to tell Papa how amazing it was, to get him to come outside, but he was snug and warm and wanted to stay in. Within 30 minutes the owl moved on, but he had already shared his gift with me, one that lingers and still brings a smile to my face.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Why Eating Our Main Meal at Noon Didn't Work For Us
Everyone loved eating a full meal at noon. I was happy to get the heavy cooking out of the way early in the day, Papa was happy to come home to a hot meal at lunch time, and the boys liked the novelty of it. We felt full for hours afterwards and didn't need an afternoon snack (or, in the case of the boys, could get by with a snack of fresh fruit or raw vegetables). So why didn't it work?
Consistently, evening would come and there would be a collective groan at the idea of eating lunch foods. Papa was tired from working all day and while he had always partnered with me to make lunch prior to our experiment, now he didn't want to. The boys whined that they didn't want salad. Because I hate conflict I would cave easily and either cook another full meal or suggest getting take out if I was tired.
We get into such well-worn ruts. Eating the same thing for lunch everyday (or at least a basic variation of salad/sandwich/soup) seems normal, but eating the same meal each evening doesn't, even if we have variety at the noon meal. We also get idea in our heads about what constitutes dinner and when it should be eaten. I suspect that Papa rarely had breakfast for dinner growing up as he loves pancakes for breakfast but would rather they not show up on the table at 6 p.m.
The salads were the biggest issue. The children that never make a peep when salad is part of their lunch meal ~ because it is part of the routine ~ made a huge fuss in the evening, and that combined with a tired Papa who didn't feel like making the salads (always his job) resulted in far less salad being eaten. We are big on the nutritional benefits of eating salad daily and I was getting upset at the dearth of salad eating.
(Think I'm kidding about salad, or exaggerating when I say my children eat it regularly? Twice in the past month T-Guy has requested a salad as his side dish at a restaurant. Servers don't even know what to do when a child asks for a side salad instead of French fries or white rice. One brought him a regular side salad from the adult menu and admitted that she had never had a child choose salad. More astonishingly to her, when presented with the listing of available salad dressings T Guy asked if she could bring him extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar.)
I am perhaps the most adaptable when it comes to meals, but I also eat lightest of the four of us when it comes to the "lunch" meal. I'm happy with some mashed avocado on toast or a piece of burrata drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar, kosher salt, and capers. If it is very hot I might choose to make a smoothie or just eat some fresh fruit. My salad is always simple, just some greens with a light dressing, whereas Papa loads his with greens, tomatoes, avocado (if we have it), cucumber, raisins, nuts, cheese, and even leftover meat if there is some to be found.
So now I have two options. Go back to how we ate before (which is what we've done for the past week) or make both meals by myself (including the salads) and make sure the evening meal is different every night. Honestly, that sounds like more work than I want in the kitchen.
Consistently, evening would come and there would be a collective groan at the idea of eating lunch foods. Papa was tired from working all day and while he had always partnered with me to make lunch prior to our experiment, now he didn't want to. The boys whined that they didn't want salad. Because I hate conflict I would cave easily and either cook another full meal or suggest getting take out if I was tired.
We get into such well-worn ruts. Eating the same thing for lunch everyday (or at least a basic variation of salad/sandwich/soup) seems normal, but eating the same meal each evening doesn't, even if we have variety at the noon meal. We also get idea in our heads about what constitutes dinner and when it should be eaten. I suspect that Papa rarely had breakfast for dinner growing up as he loves pancakes for breakfast but would rather they not show up on the table at 6 p.m.
The salads were the biggest issue. The children that never make a peep when salad is part of their lunch meal ~ because it is part of the routine ~ made a huge fuss in the evening, and that combined with a tired Papa who didn't feel like making the salads (always his job) resulted in far less salad being eaten. We are big on the nutritional benefits of eating salad daily and I was getting upset at the dearth of salad eating.
(Think I'm kidding about salad, or exaggerating when I say my children eat it regularly? Twice in the past month T-Guy has requested a salad as his side dish at a restaurant. Servers don't even know what to do when a child asks for a side salad instead of French fries or white rice. One brought him a regular side salad from the adult menu and admitted that she had never had a child choose salad. More astonishingly to her, when presented with the listing of available salad dressings T Guy asked if she could bring him extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar.)
I am perhaps the most adaptable when it comes to meals, but I also eat lightest of the four of us when it comes to the "lunch" meal. I'm happy with some mashed avocado on toast or a piece of burrata drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar, kosher salt, and capers. If it is very hot I might choose to make a smoothie or just eat some fresh fruit. My salad is always simple, just some greens with a light dressing, whereas Papa loads his with greens, tomatoes, avocado (if we have it), cucumber, raisins, nuts, cheese, and even leftover meat if there is some to be found.
So now I have two options. Go back to how we ate before (which is what we've done for the past week) or make both meals by myself (including the salads) and make sure the evening meal is different every night. Honestly, that sounds like more work than I want in the kitchen.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
When Life Gives You a (Not So Sweet) Watermelon ...
... don't give up!
I started by serving it cubed at lunch (our main meal) anyway. The fact that it wasn't very sweet was remarked upon, but didn't stop anyone from eating it.
Next I blended the cubed watermelon with baker's sugar and Meyer lemon juice (my Vitamix pulverizes any white watermelon seeds), poured some of the mixture into ice pop molds, and poured the rest into my ice cream maker for watermelon sorbet. Experience from the last time I made watermelon sorbet taught me that it isn't a sorbet that you can eat right away (too soft) but that it freezes beautifully and isn't too hard to scoop or eat. I'm pretty sure it's because of the added sugar; when we make pear or peach sorbet from fruit canned in juice it is much firmer after the time in the ice cream maker and it gets very hard in the freezer.
I still had a huge bag of cubed watermelon (it was a big watermelon) so I decided to blend some of it with water, sugar, and lemon juice to make an agua fresca. I put it into a pretty Pyrex juice carafe and will serve it later.
There is still enough cubed watermelon to serve as a snack this afternoon.
Here's hoping that the second watermelon I purchased is sweet sweet sweet. Not that I mind eating watermelon in other forms, but nothing beats perfectly sweet watermelon just as it is.
I started by serving it cubed at lunch (our main meal) anyway. The fact that it wasn't very sweet was remarked upon, but didn't stop anyone from eating it.
Next I blended the cubed watermelon with baker's sugar and Meyer lemon juice (my Vitamix pulverizes any white watermelon seeds), poured some of the mixture into ice pop molds, and poured the rest into my ice cream maker for watermelon sorbet. Experience from the last time I made watermelon sorbet taught me that it isn't a sorbet that you can eat right away (too soft) but that it freezes beautifully and isn't too hard to scoop or eat. I'm pretty sure it's because of the added sugar; when we make pear or peach sorbet from fruit canned in juice it is much firmer after the time in the ice cream maker and it gets very hard in the freezer.
I still had a huge bag of cubed watermelon (it was a big watermelon) so I decided to blend some of it with water, sugar, and lemon juice to make an agua fresca. I put it into a pretty Pyrex juice carafe and will serve it later.
There is still enough cubed watermelon to serve as a snack this afternoon.
Here's hoping that the second watermelon I purchased is sweet sweet sweet. Not that I mind eating watermelon in other forms, but nothing beats perfectly sweet watermelon just as it is.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Too much!
Too many books, too many art supplies, too many pieces of vintage Pyrex, too much dinnerware.
How could there even be such a thing?
Alas, it's true. Our not-so-big home is bursting at the seams again. Add to the above list too much clothing, too many toys, too much yarn and fabric, and too much junk. I know it is too much because Papa has started expressing a discontent with our home and has even taken me out looking at homes a few times.
It's fun to dream, to walk into homes that aren't ours, either empty or carefully purged and staged, and imagine ourselves living there. It's easy to believe that a bigger home would take care of the problem of too much ~ except I know that it won't. It might give us more space for gardening and outdoor play, but I firmly believe that stuff simply expands to fill the space.
And so I ask questions, thoughtfully and carefully. What did you like about that house? What about our house seems insufficient? What do you think we could do to make the home we have now the home that we want?
After all, once upon a time this was the home that we wanted and it is still very much a home that I love. It's true that we couldn't imagine what it would be like to have bigger boys and we didn't know what they would want to do with their outdoor space. Our yard isn't quite big enough for baseball or football, but it isn't tiny either, and big kids can take themselves to a park or schoolyard if they need more space.
Always it comes back to liking the clean, uncluttered spaces in these homes as well as the carefully curated decor. Those are things I like too, and I do try to make our home warm, simple, clean, and decluttered. But lately, well, I've brought home a lot of children's books, vintage Pyrex, and other kitchen items. I've also been going through my grandmother's things and my dining room table is simply overflowing. It isn't what I like to see either; it simply is what it is for now.
I remember when we bought this house and as part of our loan agreement we had to secure a tenant for our condominium. For two weeks we scrubbed, cleaned, decluttered, and did all of the little repairs that needed to be done. When we finished the Saltillo tile floors were gleaming, the doors were fixed on the laundry alcove, the faucets didn't drip, the patio was clean, the roses were well-tended, and honestly, if I hadn't wanted yard with grass for my children I would have been tempted to stay in the condo.
What is it that makes us put off repairs in our own homes, thinking they are too expensive? Or stops us from purchasing furniture and artwork that we love (not necessarily new). Why do we put off the projects that we dreamed about in the beginning, redoing the back yard or tearing the carpet out of the family room? Why do those things seem so expensive, and yet we contemplate taking on a larger mortgage to by a home where these things have already been done?
And so, I suggested a few things to Papa. One, that we should do a real, deep decluttering. A ruthless decluttering. A peeling back so far that maybe it hurts a little decluttering. Two, that we should once again reconsider how we use the rooms in this house and decide if we should move things around. Three, that we visit some antique stores and find a few pieces to replace those that we really don't like.
Just as importantly, I think we should go ahead and spend the money on the projects that mean the most to us, like redoing the backyard, putting in new flooring in a couple of rooms, replacing the doors that the Girl Dog destroyed, sanding and refinishing the trim in the dining room, repairing the damaged wainscoting in the front bathroom, putting up window coverings, having the outside trim painted, and hiring a handyman service to fix all the little plumbing issues that bug us. The list seems endless, but each thing that we accomplish will add to our contentment here in our little suburban home.
How could there even be such a thing?
Alas, it's true. Our not-so-big home is bursting at the seams again. Add to the above list too much clothing, too many toys, too much yarn and fabric, and too much junk. I know it is too much because Papa has started expressing a discontent with our home and has even taken me out looking at homes a few times.
It's fun to dream, to walk into homes that aren't ours, either empty or carefully purged and staged, and imagine ourselves living there. It's easy to believe that a bigger home would take care of the problem of too much ~ except I know that it won't. It might give us more space for gardening and outdoor play, but I firmly believe that stuff simply expands to fill the space.
And so I ask questions, thoughtfully and carefully. What did you like about that house? What about our house seems insufficient? What do you think we could do to make the home we have now the home that we want?
After all, once upon a time this was the home that we wanted and it is still very much a home that I love. It's true that we couldn't imagine what it would be like to have bigger boys and we didn't know what they would want to do with their outdoor space. Our yard isn't quite big enough for baseball or football, but it isn't tiny either, and big kids can take themselves to a park or schoolyard if they need more space.
Always it comes back to liking the clean, uncluttered spaces in these homes as well as the carefully curated decor. Those are things I like too, and I do try to make our home warm, simple, clean, and decluttered. But lately, well, I've brought home a lot of children's books, vintage Pyrex, and other kitchen items. I've also been going through my grandmother's things and my dining room table is simply overflowing. It isn't what I like to see either; it simply is what it is for now.
I remember when we bought this house and as part of our loan agreement we had to secure a tenant for our condominium. For two weeks we scrubbed, cleaned, decluttered, and did all of the little repairs that needed to be done. When we finished the Saltillo tile floors were gleaming, the doors were fixed on the laundry alcove, the faucets didn't drip, the patio was clean, the roses were well-tended, and honestly, if I hadn't wanted yard with grass for my children I would have been tempted to stay in the condo.
What is it that makes us put off repairs in our own homes, thinking they are too expensive? Or stops us from purchasing furniture and artwork that we love (not necessarily new). Why do we put off the projects that we dreamed about in the beginning, redoing the back yard or tearing the carpet out of the family room? Why do those things seem so expensive, and yet we contemplate taking on a larger mortgage to by a home where these things have already been done?
And so, I suggested a few things to Papa. One, that we should do a real, deep decluttering. A ruthless decluttering. A peeling back so far that maybe it hurts a little decluttering. Two, that we should once again reconsider how we use the rooms in this house and decide if we should move things around. Three, that we visit some antique stores and find a few pieces to replace those that we really don't like.
Just as importantly, I think we should go ahead and spend the money on the projects that mean the most to us, like redoing the backyard, putting in new flooring in a couple of rooms, replacing the doors that the Girl Dog destroyed, sanding and refinishing the trim in the dining room, repairing the damaged wainscoting in the front bathroom, putting up window coverings, having the outside trim painted, and hiring a handyman service to fix all the little plumbing issues that bug us. The list seems endless, but each thing that we accomplish will add to our contentment here in our little suburban home.
The Most Extraordinary of Ordinary Days
Do you ever have days that are amazing despite the fact that they really are hum ho ordinary days?
Yesterday was like that for me. It was Sunday, so we slept in some (Papa even took care of the dogs when they woke early rather than putting T-Guy to the task as Papa can get back to sleep and T-Guy can't). Breakfast was zucchini bread (baked ahead and pulled from the freezer to defrost overnight), plus bacon and sausage. I guess maybe that was our clue that it would be a great day; I mean really, how decadent is it to have bacon and sausage for breakfast at home?
We read the paper a bit and then started cleaning house. We usually clean house on Saturdays, but this weekend we'd spent Saturday morning hard at work preparing the swim club pool and grounds for the season opening, done our errands that afternoon, and had date night.
The guys all went for a bike ride while I did a bit more house cleaning (and laundry all day). Papa and I went looking at open houses while the boys had their video game time. That was enjoyable and while we aren't actually looking for a house it's nice to see what is out there now and again. Honestly, there was one house that I am interested in; the house is okay (if stuck in the late 80s/early 90s) but the yard is amazing, over an acre with lots of fruit trees and room for raised beds. Seriously, there were Valencia orange trees, Navel orange trees, "juice" orange trees (I thought that's what Valencias are), lemon trees, fig trees, a tangelo tree, an Oro Blanco grapefruit tree, a kumquat tree, peach trees, avocado trees, blackberry bushes, and more. Oh, and a full, heated green house!
We came home again, I took out the lamb to sit at room temperature for an hour, made the boys a big bowl of popcorn, and got to work amending the soil in our wading pool beds. Last year we got started with these garden beds but bought an "all-in-one"type compost that ended up being nothing like the mix recommended in Square Foot Gardening. It couldn't hold moisture and hardened up, and we had a heck of a time growing anything. This year will still be an experiment; our local garden center didn't have vermiculite, just perlite, so I added that instead (not wanting to spend the gas to get to the garden center with vermiculite). Now researching online some people who do SFG don't care for perlite, some do. We'll have to see how it works.
We grilled rack of lamb for dinner and ate outside, although it had gotten a little chilly and I needed a light sweater. This was our first real meal outside this year and it was so much more pleasant than last year. Last year we'd created the wading pool beds with compost and brought home tons of flies with the compost, something that hadn't happened in 2007 when we built our first garden beds.
Papa and I set off for our evening walk a little later than usual and it ended up being like the walks we used to take before we had children; we didn't walk a set route and walked for a long time. Then it was home for a bit of TV (The Borgias) and then flipped our mattress, put on clean sheets, and got ready for bed.
Such an ordinary day, and yet such a feeling of satisfaction and happiness. It wasn't a day at the beach or Disneyland and it wasn't free of the typical tasks of daily life such as cooking, cleaning, and laundry, but it was absolutely wonderful. We connected, we worked hard together, we shared meals, and we dreamed out loud together. Really, what could be more wonderful than that?
Yesterday was like that for me. It was Sunday, so we slept in some (Papa even took care of the dogs when they woke early rather than putting T-Guy to the task as Papa can get back to sleep and T-Guy can't). Breakfast was zucchini bread (baked ahead and pulled from the freezer to defrost overnight), plus bacon and sausage. I guess maybe that was our clue that it would be a great day; I mean really, how decadent is it to have bacon and sausage for breakfast at home?
We read the paper a bit and then started cleaning house. We usually clean house on Saturdays, but this weekend we'd spent Saturday morning hard at work preparing the swim club pool and grounds for the season opening, done our errands that afternoon, and had date night.
The guys all went for a bike ride while I did a bit more house cleaning (and laundry all day). Papa and I went looking at open houses while the boys had their video game time. That was enjoyable and while we aren't actually looking for a house it's nice to see what is out there now and again. Honestly, there was one house that I am interested in; the house is okay (if stuck in the late 80s/early 90s) but the yard is amazing, over an acre with lots of fruit trees and room for raised beds. Seriously, there were Valencia orange trees, Navel orange trees, "juice" orange trees (I thought that's what Valencias are), lemon trees, fig trees, a tangelo tree, an Oro Blanco grapefruit tree, a kumquat tree, peach trees, avocado trees, blackberry bushes, and more. Oh, and a full, heated green house!
We came home again, I took out the lamb to sit at room temperature for an hour, made the boys a big bowl of popcorn, and got to work amending the soil in our wading pool beds. Last year we got started with these garden beds but bought an "all-in-one"type compost that ended up being nothing like the mix recommended in Square Foot Gardening. It couldn't hold moisture and hardened up, and we had a heck of a time growing anything. This year will still be an experiment; our local garden center didn't have vermiculite, just perlite, so I added that instead (not wanting to spend the gas to get to the garden center with vermiculite). Now researching online some people who do SFG don't care for perlite, some do. We'll have to see how it works.
We grilled rack of lamb for dinner and ate outside, although it had gotten a little chilly and I needed a light sweater. This was our first real meal outside this year and it was so much more pleasant than last year. Last year we'd created the wading pool beds with compost and brought home tons of flies with the compost, something that hadn't happened in 2007 when we built our first garden beds.
Papa and I set off for our evening walk a little later than usual and it ended up being like the walks we used to take before we had children; we didn't walk a set route and walked for a long time. Then it was home for a bit of TV (The Borgias) and then flipped our mattress, put on clean sheets, and got ready for bed.
Such an ordinary day, and yet such a feeling of satisfaction and happiness. It wasn't a day at the beach or Disneyland and it wasn't free of the typical tasks of daily life such as cooking, cleaning, and laundry, but it was absolutely wonderful. We connected, we worked hard together, we shared meals, and we dreamed out loud together. Really, what could be more wonderful than that?
Friday, May 20, 2011
Summer ~ Learning Without Schooling
Ah, the lazy days of summer are nearly upon us. Now that I am a homeschooling parent I look forward to summer just as much as I did as a child. It's not because homeschooling is hard or because we don't like what we're doing; we love homeschooling! Rather, it's the opportunity to spend a few months with a slowed-down rhythm (even slower than during the homeschooling year) seeking deep relaxation and connection.
For three months or so I am their mama and not also their teacher; they are my boys and not also my students. I can fully put aside all the worry that I try not to have during the academic year (but fail at erasing completely). We fall into a different rhythm, one based around going to the pool daily, the weekly kids' movie, play dates, beach trips, and more.
Of course, I don't believe that children are ever not learning. I don't think my summers off from school were wasted nor that I experienced any kind of brain drain.
My hunch is that kids who have grown up loving to learn and doing it in a natural and holistic manner can't help but learn over the summer; learning is that humans do!
For three months or so I am their mama and not also their teacher; they are my boys and not also my students. I can fully put aside all the worry that I try not to have during the academic year (but fail at erasing completely). We fall into a different rhythm, one based around going to the pool daily, the weekly kids' movie, play dates, beach trips, and more.
Of course, I don't believe that children are ever not learning. I don't think my summers off from school were wasted nor that I experienced any kind of brain drain.
My hunch is that kids who have grown up loving to learn and doing it in a natural and holistic manner can't help but learn over the summer; learning is that humans do!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)