The dramatic novella of a homeschooling mother of four boys

Eegads. I kept a blog once.

Life at our house continues to up the ante.  I am chagrined to look at my previous Booklists, even from as recent as 2016.  I was reading.  And I am still reading, but almost everything is read aloud to my children. (Our school books are not listed.) (Just books for pleasure, though the school books are a pleasure.)

My time is filled up with what . . . ??

• Kitchen work
• School work
• Orchestrating chore times
• Delegating house work

Really, this is the bulk of my work.  Maintaining order fills in the cracks of everything else. If my attention is diverted in any way, on any task, all hell breaks loose at my house.  With four boys in the house, cooped up during the cold and snowy winter, when getting ready to go outside is a chore in and of itself . . . ALL HELL breaks loose regularly throughout the day.

Stampeding. Wrestlemania. Battle play run amok. Screaming. Crying.

I have been looking closely at the reasons why this happens. Most obviously, three of my four children are natural born agitators. There's a major crux of the issue right there. We are together day and night. Crawling the walls. Our neighbor boys are so busy that they aren't usually available to play, added to the fact that we don't have any other neighbors, so outside energy diversion is nil. A major drawback of living so rural. Our oldest is twelve and more than half-grown but he plays and body-slams like he's still eight years old. Another huge factor.

But I also believe that as they get older and louder and able to do more damage, our mode of being is is becoming outmoded. I am no longer allowing indoor battle play. It always ends in screaming and crying. Indoor stampeding is no longer allowed.  Flopping around in a giant wrestling ball is outlawed. They can do that stuff outside.

They are disappointed, naturally . . . but I simply can't handle it any longer. It is driving me over the edge. And if I have learned anything as I have gone through life, it is that crisis and/or feelings of upset and unrest are signs that something needs to change.

***

In other news, homeschooling is going very well. I have upped the ante in this arena as well.

This year I . . .

• Started assigned reading for Diego.
• Keep track of the days on our lovely Etsy-commissioned chalkboard.
• Have assigned weekly chores for each day of the school week.
• Started using clipboards for the boys to keep track of their daily/weekly work. 
• Moved Circle Time to the kitchen table to a better end.
• Assigned Nature Study to a particular day so it actually happened.

Diego is reading at level this year. I am so amazed and encouraged by this fact. Last year, at age 11, I would have classified him as a beginning-middle reader and two years ago, at age 10, absolutely a beginning reader. And now, he is reading with ease and fluency. It is AMAZING.

I followed the advice of so many educators before me . . . don't push it, read to them copiously, allow their development to be your guide, that reading readiness exists on a spectrum . . . not everyone is ready at the same time, especially boys, and that he will be reading with fluency in no time once the developmental requirements click into place.

Yes. Yes! YES.

This is what happened. If any moms happen to cross this post, take heart. Persevere. Slow down and don't force it. Allow him or her to develop naturally. It will happen. Read to that child every day, fill their heart with stories and amazing ideas. It will happen, slowly but surely.

***

I have the boys upstairs in the Lego Room listening to Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets while the youngest brother naps.  Eliah is four years old and in that uncomfortable in-between spot in napping. He can make it through the day, but then dissolves in the evening hours; or when he does nap, might be awake until 11:00 PM.

It's difficult to navigate, but I've settled on reading and snuggling like usual. but moving into Quiet Time if I can tell he doesn't need to sleep. And that is a beast in and of itself: teaching two kids at once the rules and regulations of Quiet Time.

Jamie, age seven, discontinued his afternoon nap this winter as well. But that is another story that could fill an entire blog post. Long story short: The lymph nodes in his neck and groin were swollen for over a year. In November, our natural health practitioner found that his body was loaded down with heavy metals. (I believe it finally surfaced after years of work with our holistic practitioner.) (And the air purifiers we installed in our home.) (Layer after layer of issues, until his body was finally able to release.) We worked with her intensively for a number of weeks and then started giving him Himalayan Pink salt baths to detox.

And it worked. His bath water was brown and cloudy at the end of each bath, especially at the beginning of the process, lighter as we have progressed. His lymph nodes decreased in size with each bath. For the first time in over a year, his lymphs are NOT swollen. His behavior has improved. His ability to cope with stress has improved (such as putting on socks and shoes, wearing underwear, clothing with tags, resolving conflict, etc.). And he no longer needs a daily nap.

I felt the lymph nodes in his neck today; they were slightly puffy, nothing like they were, but another bath is in due order. It seems as if his body is releasing its toxins slowly and it is up to us to provide the channels for its release.

(He swallowed a watch battery when he was a baby.) (That is where we believe it came from.)

Over and out, I'll catch yeh next quarter.

2017 Food Preservation Season

I am in the full-thrust of harvest - fermenting, drying, canning, freezing - and have been going hard for a month or more.  It has been an amazing change this year now that my youngest child is four years old,and I have 3-4 helpers who are actually helpful - picking, shucking, hauling, loading, slicing, snapping, cleaning.

Another huge difference from years' past is that I am working steadily through the entire week, rather than saving the bulk of my work for the weekends.  This is huge.  Instead of blow-out weekends that leave me completely stripped, there have been Saturdays or Sundays where I finish my work in the early evening hours.  It has been amazing.

I am getting more done too . . . with steady progress, instead of fits and starts. I am a machine.  I know what needs to be done and how to do it. My output is massive.

As I have said in recent years, I am a "serious home food preservationist".

 Bread & Butter pickles ready for storage.

Sliced cabbage + salt + caraway seeds = sauerkraut

Cucumbers have been prolific this year, so I have gallons upon gallons of sour pickles, bread & butter pickles, sliced dill pickles.  Our green cabbages came in in conjunction with the cucumbers, which left me in a bit of a pickle (haha) with the amount of produce that needed processing.

Also, with the amount of rain we got this year, the green cabbages (but not the purple thankfully) started cracking at the beginning of August.  It was not a good situation . . . they were in tough shape by the time I was able to get to them. (About half-way into the crisis, I got two 5 liter Pickl-Its that made all the difference.) (Pictured above with the sauerkraut.)

Likewise, with the amount of rain and cool weather we had in August, our tomatoes are in a precarious situation.  They are cracking and extremely vulnerable to bug damage.  We are picking them before they are fully ripe; if left on the vine, they are left to the wiles of slugs and bugs. Completely destroyed.

Now for for a slight detour: a small tour of ketchup-making --

 Pre-ketchup: spices, onion, sugar, vinegar, tomatoes

Culling spices in the food mill.

Ketchup refuse

 The final product sealed in the canner.

I am displeased with the ugly rendering of these pictures with my iphone.  YUCK.  My beauty-loving eye sockets are seared with the sheer displeasure of seeing such refuse.

Alas, it cannot be helped.

I use the A Canadian Foodie recipe: Homemade Ketchup with Fresh Tomatoes.

I've been also been making tomato sauce, salsa, and the most delicious oven-roasted tomato concoction: a panful of halved cherry or plum tomatoes, add salt, several crushed garlic cloves, and a few chunks of beef fat, baked at 350 for most of the day and stirred every-so-often.

It roasts down into an umami-filled, rich, reduced . . . I don't know what.  I've used it as pizza sauce or simply as a visually appealing and palate-pleasing addition to a plate.

I am listening to The Brothers Karamasov in the kitchen while I work, now on speaker via my iphone rather than earbuds through my little hand-me-down ipod.  It is an incredibly long book, but well worth the time invested.  I've been absolutely gripped by the story and the many ideas that Dostoyevsky explores.

Finally . . . my Food Preservation Notes. Or, how I taught myself how to do this all.

Though let's give credit where credit is due: the groundwork was laid in my childhood by watching my mom and aunties in the kitchen.  Thanks Muver. (Emoji heart!)

Over and out.

SKOS

Contemplating....

• Food preservation plans.
• The 2017-2018 school year.
• Going for the gold on that beautiful, very functional Etsy chalkboard.
• The ensuing organizational revolution the said chalkboard will facilitate.
• The gray hairs standing at attention and in proliferation on my head.
• Why a houseful of boys involves so much fighting. (Really.) (Why??)
• (And perhaps the complaint should be expanded simply to "children"...?)
• A workable plan toward gutting clutter.
• Why the "m" key on our keyboard only works some of the ti(m)e.

Hashtag "boymom"

UN. We had another tooth almost knocked out by an elbow during a bout of rough play this afternoon. (Jamie's.) (Front right.) (Hanging by a thread.)

This means we've had a total of 2.5 teeth knocked out in our house over the years . . . and we have so many more loose teeth to go.

Only in a houseful of boys.  For realz.

We spent time with a friend yesterday with an older daughter and a son and a newish baby boy.  The boys were in the basement, making their usual commotion and noise.  While we were talking, I noticed she was starting to feel tense and distracted, and I realized that this, my life, what-feels-like constant noise and commotion, might not be normal in other families.

"It sounds like they are tearing down the walls," she said, as she asked her daughter to go and take a look, then report back on their activities.  And it absolutely did: it sounded like shelves were falling and walls were getting pock-marked.

And I realized that I had barely even noticed.  Yes, I heard the noise, but it was just the usual din: no one was screaming or crying, the usual sign of things run amok.

Her daughter came back upstairs rolling her eyes and said they were battering each other with balloons. They evidently had a pack of balloons and balloon pump, and of course, what else are balloons for, other than smacking each other and exploding them in short order?

Battle play.  Of course.

#boymom

It's real.

What Robin Told | What Mother Saw

I had a moment of homeschooling bliss the other day, a moment of such beauty.

We were in the garden planting onions. (Yes! The fellas planted onions this year.) (All 800-900 of them.)  I hoed the furrow while Diego and Truen placed the pine needle-like seedlings along the row, then covered and tamped with loose dirt.

We heard a woodpecker pecking out a new hole on an old, dead spruce.  We heard a catbird mewing in the trees nearby.  We began to talk about woodpecker nests, which we have never seen, which led us to robins' nests, which we have seen in plenty.

Jamie started reciting a poem recently memorized --

What Robin Told
by George Cooper

How do robins build their nests?
Robin Redbreast told me
First a wisp of yellow hay
In a pretty round they lay;
Then some shreds of downy floss,
Feather, too, and bits of moss,
Woven with a sweet, sweet song,
This way, that way, and across;
   That’s what Robin told me.

Where do robins hide their nests?
Robin Redbreast told me
Up among the leaves so deep,
Where the sunbeams rarely creep,
Long before the winds are cold,
Long before the leaves are gold,
Bright-eyed stars will peep and see
Baby robins–one, two, three;
   That’s what Robin told me.

Eliah was off playing in the grass. Jamie hopped through the dirt as he recited the poem. Diego and Truen were industriously planting onions and thinking about bird life and lore. And my heart was full.

I thought, "This is what I'm doing." My life right now. Planting beautiful thoughts. Cultivating an awareness of life in the world around my children. Teaching them to work. Depositing a bank of poetry and bird lore. Noble stories and ideas.

In essence, giving them a mental landscape to draw from as they get older.

Little glimmers shine through now and then, the elusive and intangible "results" that every homeschooling mother pines to see, and it has nurtured me along the journey.

Down by the Salley Gardens

I sing this to the little guys almost every day as we snuggle down for nap time.  LOVE. 

It is a beautiful song, a beautiful poem.

Down By the Salley Gardens 

By William Butler Yeats

 

Down by the salley gardens

   my love and I did meet;

She passed the salley gardens

   with little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy,

   as the leaves grow on the tree;

But I, being young and foolish,

   with her would not agree.

In a field by the river

   my love and I did stand,

And on my leaning shoulder

   she laid her snow-white hand.

She bid me take life easy,

   as the grass grows on the weirs;

But I was young and foolish,

   and now am full of tears.

Quick pop-in

Unbelievable. It appears that my new habit is posting every two months. I'm like a broken record . . . I don't have time for reflection, blahblahblah . . . but it is such an accurate picture of my life right now.

I have about a half-hour of solitude in the morning before everyone gets up and I use this time for stretching, life organization, and scant reading. Afternoon Quiet Time is a thing of the past, replaced with Afternoon Lessons.

Jamie, six years old, still naps most days. The older boys and I have spent delicious afternoons in recent months reading aloud The Tale of Beatrix Potter and Richard Halliburton's Book of Marvels, then working on math lessons. We use MEP math out of the UK. (Love!)

Jamie still naps! Regularly. Much longer than Diego or Truen ever did. I believe he may need more sleep than the average kid, but more importantly, it is because his body is slow to move toxicity. Extra sleep on the days he is showing signs of stress makes a big difference.

Key signs of bodily stress show in 1) behavior (very low stress tolerance, inflexibility, inability to cope, etc.) and 2) his lymph system. Inflamed lymph nodes in his neck and groin are prime indicators, peppered around like little peas. Totally freaky, right?  Ugh . . . it has been quite the journey.

We have seen our area "witch doctor", a Kinesiology PhD who works on keeping energy flow and balance in the body.  We are using Bioray Kids Calm to assist his body to keep things moving: chemicals, heavy metals, bacteria, virus, etc.  We are using the Kids Dynamic Drink to boost his system. (In addition to whole foods, broth, limited sugar, no food coloring, epsom salt baths, etc.) We bought also bought an Austin Air Purifier, as we believe the indoor air quality of our century-old home is a primary culprit.

We have seen improvement with all of these measures, both in behavior and his lymph nodes.

My time is out . . . but here I am. Living life in my little corner of the world.

See yeh in two.

Quick check-in

It's been more than two month since I've posted . . . oh my.  Since then my grandma has died, our new little nephew Otto was born, I mothered my first mother as a doula, and we took a 3+ week trip to WA.  There's more, but it will have to wait.

Meanwhile...

 Jamie had a birthday: six years old

 We made a quickly-planned January visit to Western WA

 We met a new cousin and celebrated Late Christmas

The fellas looooove their cousins

 LOVE. (....we found them like this)

 And love-love-love their cousins

The fellas love their aunties and uncles too

 

 So many uncles to wrestle with

 This was 4-against-1 and Unky Erik still beat 'em

Uncle Andrew was Eliah's special buddy

We spent a lot of time at the beach

 Playing on driftwood, walking along the beach and pier

 

 (Truen is so engaged, he's hard to catch)

It was a lovely visit

Blaine even came at the end . . . the first time in seven years
It was so good to have him there.

We saw our dear friend Sam & family, the first time in eight years

(He's stationed in Western WA until this summer)
Lovely, just lovely.

The Corries' Loch Lomond

I'm getting a little obsessed with the current folk song for our little homeschool.  It is piquant and haunting; I'm feeling the tug to memorize it and sing it to my children like a bard. I must love epic tragedies.

My goodness, but it is so lovely.

Astounded

Two amazing things happened this morning while reading The Tragedy of Othello, Moor of Venice to the boys out loud during Circle Time this morning.

First off, they begged for more.  And more and more. It was a much larger bite of Shakespeare than usual - things were starting to heat up and their interest was engaged.  Be still my beating heart!  The world stopped spinning and everything sparkled and pulsated around us.

(Though Jamie and Diego didn't stop wrestling.) (Circle Time is often ugly, but so, so beautiful.)

Secondly, I was getting so involved in the reading that my heart tightened up and I almost cried.  I felt so much pity for Desdemona and couldn't believe that Othello could be such a fool as to hold fast to such incredibly imbalanced conclusions.  He went crazy and couldn't rein himself back in.  Whatever happened to a loving check-in or even a sound cross-examination?

I felt creeping sadness as I read aloud.  Horrified.  But I am intrigued by the simultaneous awareness of the beginnings of a fuller comprehension of Shakespeare's magnificence.  It is thrilling.  I've always been told that his plays are incredible, but when I was introduced to them cold-turkey in high school, I was more confused than interested.  But now . . . I am seeing the slow dawning of understanding.  This guy.  He is amazing.

I've seen A Midsummer Night's Dream multiple times, listened to Coriolanus on audio, read aloud The Taming of the Shrew and now Othello.  I can't wait to canvas the entire collection.  Bit by bit, play by play.

Emoji hearts everywhere!

Autumnal review

Seriously.  It is the end of October.  Unbelievable.

This fall has been a bit of a whirlwind.  We traveled to the Twin Cities twice in less than a month. (Once to see grandparents and great-grandparents.) (Then for a dear friend's baby shower and visiting my first mama friend and her family.)

Meanwhile, I worked my way through another preservation season.  Tomatillo salsa, sauerkraut, applesauce, tomato paste, tomato puree, ketchup, pickles green tomatoes, dried vegetables, etc.  I am a machine.  I know what to do, how to do it, and the strategies for accomplishing such a massive undertaking are in place and well-girded.

Major improvements this year included:

• Prepping multiple meals the week leading up to my 8-10 hour kitchen days.
• Sprinkling in small jobs throughout the week.
• Having a game plan in dealing with ALL tomatoes.
• Harnessing children to pick, shuck, clean, haul compost, etc.

We also started our FIFTH YEAR of homeschooling at the beginning of October.  I can hardly believe that number. There is so much wonder and beauty involved with all the hard work. I am so pleased. This is the first year that I am able to so clearly see our progress.  It is a structure that has taken many years to create - built bit by bit, year by year, "shoring up the base" as my Grandpa O. likes to say.

Our daily outline involves:

• Circle Time
• Copywork
• Math Lessons
• Reading Practice

Diego is in Year 5, Truen, Year 3, and Jamie, Year 0.  The bulk of the responsibility falls on Diego and Truen, but Jamie is right there in the thick of it, insisting on having his own Math Lessons and Copywork.  And his understanding and abilities are far beyond what Diego and Truen were doing at this age. Osmosis, I swear it. It is proof of Charlotte Mason's maxim "Education is a Life". Yes. When it is the very air you breathe, you cannot help but absorb it.

Together we are reading:

• The Story of the World: Book 4
• Halliburton's Book of Marvels
• Madam How & Lady Why
• The Winter of Red Snow
• Wild Animals I Have Known
• The Story of Inventions
• Biography on Isaac Newton
• Of Courage Undaunted
• Bullfinch's Age of Fable

We are enjoying these books so much.  I read aloud during meal times and snack time in addition to Circle Time.  They enjoy it, but I revel in it. LOVE.

Overall, I have a grip on our days and feel very confident and ready for the behemoth task of home education.  It is so massive, but I am right where I need to be.

But man: getting up early.  I have found myself unable to do it this autumn.  It is hit and miss . . . I would say I'm at about a quarter of the time, maybe a third.  It is abysmal.  I am not pleased.  But for whatever reason, I find myself soooo tired in the morning, sleeping in until 7:00 - 8:00 AM with all the bros.  Sleeping in feels amazing, but it is grating at me.  I feel a burning need for some contemplative solitude again.

Over and out.

September Food Preservation Notes

Preserving:

• Tomato products: salsa, ketchup, paste, puree
• Other canned goals: tomatillo salsa, watermelon rind pickles, apple sauce
• Drying: greens, celery, zucchini, apple slices, apple leather
• Fermenting: pickles (done for the season), sauerkraut 

Tools:

• Food processor (!!!)
• Food mill 
• Chef's knife, bread knife (so perfect for tomatoes), paring knife
• Prepped-ahead meals (beef heart sandwich meat, lentil soup, ratatouille)
• Epsom salts (for recovery) (me!)

 Ketchup

In years past, I have chopped almost everything by hand - but this year I feel like I've Discovered My Food Processor. (The one I've had for a decade.) (Yeah.)  I've used it for big chopping jobs in the past, mostly for salsa, but this year I've been using the slicing attachment with no reserve.

(It is almost like I felt like I was betraying the art of hand-chopping?) (Very strange aversion.) I honestly think it might be because I didn't like cleaning the food processor when I was done.

But this year?  I am LOVING it.  The cabbage is shredded into such pretty cuts.  The dehydrator is loaded in no-time flat. The fellas line up to help shove zucchini into the chute and are actually, truly  helpful in the process.  Apples are going to be a breeze. It is totally saving my life right now.  Everything is easier.

 Paste | Watermelon Rind Pickles | Ketchup

Another difference from years' past: I have a honed game plan.  I am not writhing in the attempt to wrap my mind around the tomato table. I have a well-laid plan and know how to accomplish it.

First off, our family eats a lot of salsa and ketchup.  Check.

Secondly, everyone loves tomato soup in the winter. (The puree.)  Check.

Thirdly, tomato paste deepens the flavor of so many dishes.  Check.

I love tomatillo salsa. I love having scads of dried vegetables at my fingertips all winter long. I L-O-V-E sauerkraut and we eat it at almost every meal. Check. Check. Check.

I am so pleased.

 
But of course, this involves a serious time commitment.  I spent three 12-hour days in the kitchen over Labor Day weekend; Blaine took Tuesday off too, which was an 8-hour day.

On Monday morning I woke up so sore - my forearms were fatigued, legs and feet sore, just generally exhausted.  In serious need of recovery after the last two days in the kitchen. (With two more to go.)

I took a time-out for an epsom salt bath: forty minutes with Boards of Canada. (One of Blaine's current faves.)  It felt so good to stare and let the music unlock my thoughts.  And I couldn't believe it, but the epsom salts did the job.  My body felt rejuvenated and I felt ready to tackle the day.

Note to self: keep epsom salts in the house from now on.

 The fellas with our two biggest watermelon this year --

Tom Watson: 26 lbs | Orange Glow: 22 lbs

19.5 years this November | 16 years last month | Love him

Blaine.  Old Leroy.  He ran the household and kept kids under wraps all four days.  He gathered ingredients, picked tomatoes, played badminton, administered baths, worked in the garden, and prepped for my ill-timed Friends of the Library Sanding Party. (Tuesday night!) (New children's shelving for the library.)  What a man.

And finally, I do not want to remiss the fact that my youngest is now three years old.  Such a huge change.  My time in the kitchen is so much more focused and lengthy.  I am noticing the difference in a big way. (But just think of all the sweet baby breaks, nursing, nuzzling, in the past.) (Sigh.)

Where was I...

Oh yes.  It has been summer.

A few words.

• Visited Western WA for most of July
• Drove there and back (would do it again)
• Working toward starting doula work
• Garden feasting
• Dehydrating everything
• Watermelons galore this year
• Smitten with that man of mine
• Planning next school year
• Enjoying cool mornings and warm afternoons
• On the Banks of Plum Creek every night with the fellas 

Miscellanous notes on holistic cat care

Of all the things.  Cat care has been all but ignored in the last 10 years in our household, but there have been several recent bumps in the road that have required urgent and directed care for our aging felines.

I found my way with the help of the book Dr. Pitcairn's Complete Guide to Natural Health for Cats and Dogs.

INTESTINAL PARASITES. Diatomaceous Earth.

Our poor kitty Tootsie (14) almost died from worms 18 months ago.  Her coat was ragged, eyes, dull, she was skeletal-thin, and she did nothing but sleep on a heap on a basement rug.  We just thought she was "getting old", but a friend noticed her and keyed us in: parasites.  We realized how badly she was infested when she puked up a worm just weeks later.

We had already started the conventional route, feeling like we needed to take action ASAP and not knowing what else to do. (It had been YEARS since we'd paid any attention to the health of our cats.)  It helped a little, but as we were warned, getting rid of intestinal worms is very hard.  The same friend pointed us in the direction of diatomaceous earth; and after we started putting a small amount of DE on wet cat food each day, slowly but surely, she regained her health and went back to her normal, glossy self.

MOUTH SORES and OVERALL TOXICITY. Homemade Cat Food.

Our gentle old dame Bay (15) had gotten to the point of stinking so terribly that no one wanted to be around her.  Her eyes were dull, her coat was raggedy and dull, and she hid and slept most of the day.  She had sores around her mouth that would not heal, no matter how they were tended.  They hurt her so badly she stopped cleaning herself and her coat turned lumpy and matted.

I knew without a doubt that it was the food that was causing it.  Dried kibble?  Complete garbage.  Wet cat food is no different, it is just a moist version of the dried stuff.  I have made cat food in the past and had been feeling guilty about it for years, but felt swamped with young children and managing a household.  The cats seemed "okay".  But the time had come.  There was no doubt it was the food causing the problem.

And after I started making it...?  Her sores starting healing within a few days.  She was completely recovered, looking and smelling better in a matter of days and weeks.  Her stench wasn't a not-cleaning-herself smell.  It was a toxic smell.  There is no other way to describe it.  And now..?  She smells like a normal cat. Of course.

CORNEAL ABRASION. Eyebright and Apricot Kernel Oil.

Poor Bay.  Just last week she was scratched full across the eye by an outside cat, with a tear in her cornea that went across three-fourths of her eyeball.  It looked terribly painful.

I tried to get at it every day, keeping it clean with a mild saltwater solution and the application of eyebright drops, but it wasn't healing as quickly as we would have wanted.  I finally found the time to apply a just a few drops of apricot kernel oil and within a day it looked so much better.  Of course I was kicking myself. Why didn't I do it sooner?? (Mother of four!) (Weeding season!) (Three gardens!) The suggestion was to use almond oil or cod liver oil, but I opted for the apricot kernel and it worked just as well.

* * * * * *

Hopefully we can keep our cat trouble, chronic or crisis, to a minimum from this point forward, but I know that I will be able to deal with most potential issues at home.

Out of everything, the deep nutrition from their homemade food is going to be the most important to keep them healthy going forward.  I will never, and I mean NEVER, go back to dry cat food.  With a decade of cooking experience under my belt, homemade cat food is a cinch.  I make a double-batch every couple of weeks, freeze it in pint canning jars, and voila - lunch.

As a surprising side-benefit, the cost is same or less than the bagged/wet cat food we were buying.  It is better all around.

More shifting

It has been 90 degrees F for the last two days, which prompted me to finallllly start the seasonal clothing shift and get the boys' summer clothes out.  Until now, they've been making do with a pair of shorts and a few t-shirts.

First I stowed all the clean snowsuits that were waiting for me.  Then I pulled out the 5T for Jamie and the size 7 for Truen.  Easy.

Then I spotted the 18-24 months on the towering clothing storage shelf and thought, "That's it. Taking up space."  Enough.  But when I pulled it out and started sorting?  A river of tears. I couldn't help it. It had to come out.

Both Diego and Truen were very tender and concerned with me when the found me crying. Their sweetness.  I choked out my explanation as I spotted the little maroon 12-18 month sweatpants that Truen wore when he was 2 because it was the only thing that fit his tiny little frame.

Ah. How can it be?

I haven't gone through baby clothes yet, nor the toddler clothes.  But it just doesn't make sense to take up precious storage space.  I've been telling myself that I will sort through them, keeping the precious outfits, but passing the rest to a friend in our homeschool co-op who has a 2yo and newborn baby boys. (Her older kids are girls.)

Honestly, giving them to someone I know has been a big comfort to me in the process of even thinking about it.  I felt that comfort as I started the actual sorting. As I sifted, I found myself making two stacks: one for the friend, one for my SIL.  The second stack contained the pieces that I couldn't bear to part with and/or hold oodles of nostalgia for a particular babe.  Each stack was about the same size.

Then Eliah woke up and needed to snuggle.  I still need to pull down the 3T for Yiya and sort through the miscellaneous Big Stuff for Diego.  He's the ice plow: I have to "break on through to the other side" every year for him; then store it in nice, neat boxes marked "9" or "10" for future reference. I even have it bagged within the boxes marked "5T Summer" or "8 Winter" for my convenience.

I'm so sthmart. (So why does it take me to the middle of June??) (Good question.)

We are lucky - we have many, many hand-me-downs from cousins. So most of Diego's clothes are just a matter of sorting and identifying what fits. The rest are thrifted.  I've found that pants generally last two boys before the knees are totally blasted (sometimes one boy), so I still need to fill in here and there.

But yes: another shift away from the baby years. It hurts. I've thought it will be easier to let go of  clothes as they get bigger, but we shall see.

Rambling pictoral update

 Truen snuggling with this year's goslings.

Sadly, they all vanished one sunny Saturday morning.

We are almost positive it was coyotes.

 Our pigeon, Mr. Squealy.

Diego caught a fledgling pigeon this spring.

This was pre-haircut for Jamie and before Squealy learned how to fly.

He still likes to land on our heads.

Seriously. Pigeons: The best.

 The North Garden. (Three of 'em now.)
It is nestled in our front four acres, currently planted in oats.

Blaine was prepping the onion bed.

We planted, and I'm not kidding, 1,800 onions. 

It was insane. Twenty-four rows, approx. 75 onions in each row.

Garlic is on the right, melons and squash will be to the left of the onion bed.

Qualifications for North Garden admittance: deer will not eat it.

 Our patchwork quilt of a house this spring.

We had to re-roof it last summer due to a leaky roof. (Eegads.)
 We chose tin instead of shingles for a long-lasting investment.

We are very pleased with the end result: cozy, attractive, more cohesive.
(This picture is from the beginning of May.)

Have I talked about the native planting along our driveway?

The old stems and seed heads are so lovely when it rains --

they turn red and have a sweet, floral grassy fragrance.

A prairie planting was perfect for this gravelly weed-infested patch of ground.

It is thriving where lawn grass could not. (And we don't have to mow it!)
In the summer, it is loaded with flowers and the birds and bugs love it. 

Beautiful year-round. And an extremely functional snowfence.

LOVE.

One of our three Prairie Fire crabapples.

The wind affects everything on the rolling prairies --

See how it is growing bending toward the north? 

The south wind blows hard.

Diego is in braces now . . .

Or more specifically, "utility arches".

Phase two of widening his palate.

All our boys will need a palate expander.

(A legacy of the generations.)

Jamie has the most severe crossbite of the four.

See how his top teeth are inside his bottom teeth...? Not good.
And isn't he just the sweetest?  I am really enjoying his little 5yo self.

I gave him his summer buzz a few weeks ago.

 But this fella?  We just can't cut the curls.

I've been putting it in a top-pony in recent weeks.

In this pic he wanted to "climb the tree" by our chicken coop,

but was very concerned once he got up there.

He's a honey man

This is what Jamie said this morning as he was scraping out the bottom of an almost-empty honey jar that he had pulled off the counter.  I told him it was fine, but that I'd like him to ask me next time.

His response: "I'm a honey man. I just love honey!"

He's five years old and as cute as ever.

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I have a hard time comprehending where I am at in life.

Done having babies.
Four boys.
Youngest almost three years old.
Aging.
On the brink of adolescence.
No more babies.

It's confusing.  I don't know how to feel about it.  Most of the time I feel settled, not feeling the mournful sense of "being done"; but it is a roller coaster.  It is almost a sense of loss, to know that I will never mother a newborn again, that my own babies are growing and moving quickly toward leaving fat bellies and sweet morning breath far behind.

But I can hold babies without feeling desperate.  I can hold them and hand them back and it feels right.  It is just such a strange place to be.

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Our vacuum finally bit the dust this spring after the plastic turning mechanism broke.  We bought it the year we were married with absolutely no research and lucked out.  We just got the replacement last week.  It's good, a definite improvement: lighter, better suction, more convenient.  This morning while we snuggled, Diego wondered when the new vacuum would need to be replaced. 

"Well," I said, "I don't think you'll have to worry about it. The last one lasted sixteen years."  Sixteen years!  I am old enough to have had a vacuum for sixteen years.  It boggled my mind for a brief moment.

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Diego found a baby pigeon last month.  He knocked down what he thought was an "old nest" (or so he said) and caught it easily.  It was fully feathered, but wasn't yet able to fly and still had a bit of baby fluff poking through.

Blaine, who evidently harbors a secret affection and fascination for birds, forgot himself and bought a bird cage immediately. (Ha!) (It totally cracks me up.) And now we have a pet pigeon.  Mr. Squealy. Within a half-hour of having him, he was hopping back up on Diego's lap when he set him down.  He went unnamed for a couple of weeks, but finally developed the name Mr. Squealy for the gentle baby-squeals and flapping he does when you feed him or go to pull him out of the cage.  We've read that baby pigeons are sometimes called "squeakers" for this very behavior trait.  Think baby birds' excitement when mama bird comes back to the nest with a fat worm.

Who knew pigeons were so wonderful?!  Seriously, he is the best.  Gentle, quiet, tame, so pleasant to have around.  He rides around on Diego's shoulder, indoors or outdoors.  He hangs out with us outside and has flown off short distances, but always returns.  His poop is usually dry enough that it just rolls off your back. (Though we've had plenty of turd-shirts too.)

He may yet fly away and that's okay.  But for now, we are all enjoying our pigeon interlude.

Catch-up

Have I really not posted in almost three weeks?  Good grief.  This calls for a good old fashioned list post.

• My daily wake-up time hovers around 5:00 AM.  I don't use an alarm clock, I simply tell myself that I want to wake up at that time.  If/when I wake in the night, I look at the clock and tell myself, "three more hours", "one more hour" and so on.  I get myself out of bed by remembering it is the only time for quiet contemplation that I have.
• Bedtime is fairly consistent: in bed by 9:30 PM, drifting by 10:00 PM.
• We still all go to bed at the same time and sleep in the same room.  It is a double-edged sword in some ways, but more weighted on the side of Good.  It definitely keeps me accountable to be in bed earlier, and I love the lights-out conversations with the boys.  I sing to them every night.  When we're in bed early enough, I read to them. Any kind of night-time troubles are handled by boys whispering, "Mama...?" and I'm not bringing anyone back to bed all night long.
• The downsides: no evening solitude, the only quiet evening conversation between Blaine and I occurs if/when the television is on.  Ah well.  It is the path we have chosen.

 Grackle Patrol

• Spring! It has been such a relief to send the boys OUTSIDE to play for more than 30 minutes.  I am so, so thankful for spring.  Things were starting to get a bit stir-crazy in these parts.
• The fellas spent a couple of days in the trees on bird patrol, pounding plastic buckets to bits and denting metal containers with Great-Grandma S.'s old croquet mallets, making a wonderfully booming racket.  The grackles had just arrived back for the season and congregate in great numbers in the grove around our house.  It would go from loud, raucous chattering to silence and the sweeping flap of hundreds of wings as the buckets were pounded.
• The last couple of days have been misty, moisty mornings, when cloudy was the weather, and just delightful.  I made sure we were done with our schoolwork in record time this morning just to get outside and enjoy the dampness.

 Yessir Grok and Spiderman

 Eliah looking out the mouth-hole of the Spidey Costume

• The boys went through quite a spell of dress-up this winter.  Jamie mostly, wearing his crocodile suit most days for what felt like weeks.  It was the cutest thing.  He cycled through other costumes as well - dragon, Spiderman, frog, cow, etc. - but always came back to the "croc-a-aisle" as Eliah calls it.
• In recent days, Jamie has been very interested in hauling around his bunny family - my big, white bunny from childhood, everyone's favorite Bunny Rabbit Smudge, and the little brown bunny in green overalls.
• This has inspired Eliah, who has been tending his menagerie of teddy bear, ant-eater, snail, croc-a-aisle, and bat.  He sleeps with them every night and when he wakes up in the morning, his hands are full of stuffed animals plus his water bottle.  Every morning.
• Yiya calls soldiers "Yessirs".

 

Freaky Friday

• And this is what romped down the stairs one morning before lunch after things had been a leeeeetle quiet for a while.  The Pig Bros. in two of my reserved vintage dresses.
• I finally cleared out my vintage dress collection last spring, after realizing that I had had enough.  I just can't keep all this stuff.  Blaine might as well have hooted and hollered and said, "'bout time!" 
• I've been reading more and more poetry of late.  It really, really hits the spot.  It spurs so much thought and emotion.  I loved the atmosphere it creates.  The literary power it holds.  I am amazed by it.  
• I am almost done with Dakota by Kathleen Norris (I've been reading it since June) (ala Mother Culture) and at one point in the book I thought to myself, "She could have said this so much more succinctly in a poem...."

 The most amazing carrot ever

• We are almost finished with our second term in school.  Huge successes have been the establishment of Circle Time, regular Picture Study, Folk Songs, our first foray into formal Math Lessons, Habit Training, weekly pencil drawings, establishing Reading Practice, afternoon athletic practices, and a more established routine.  This is a real homeschool, where in past years it felt more like practice.  We are catching our groove.  It feels great.
•  In the Room for Improvement category: keeping Littles under wraps and maintaining the self-discipline to keep a steady routine day in and day out (me).  I feel like I've made strides in both areas.
• So we have had A LOT of wins this year.  I am so pleased.
• A funny related side-story: I keep crying while reading Abigail Adams: Witness to a Revolution by Natalie Bober.  The difficulties that the Adams family endured, the intensity of the build-up to revolution, the political unrest, the strain . . . all I can say is "Wow . . . I just never knew".  There is something about a narrative account of history that leaves text books in the dust.  Dead and dry and parched.  
• The boys are quite concerned as I choke up, working on either regaining my composure or squeaking out the words, and pat my back or give me hugs.  Diego tries unsuccessfully to comfort me by saying, "It's just a book". (Riiight.) The tender-hearted things. I told them this morning that I don't mind crying about it at all - it is helpful to understand people and life better.  
• If anything, I've come to a much greater understanding of the origins of our nation.  How young we truly are, what amazing principles it was founded on, the irony of the birth of a nation combined with the demise of many other nations, the fact the war and squabbles are the neverending story of humanity.  And so on.  I am amazed.
• Truen is reminding me that my "five minutes" are up.  
• Time for a popcorn snack.

I have to write it down ASAP

 The little dinosaur on the left

Eliah has been saying the most hilarious things recently.  He has moved into longer sentences that allow for greater complexity in communication.  It has been delightful to hear what is going on in his little mind.

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"Why you call me Doll?"

:: To Blaine, whose nickname for him is, you guessed it, "Doll".

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Mama (calling from the kitchen): "I'm ready for boys to get the table ready to eat....!"
Eliah (from the other room): "Be patient, Mama."

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"I naughty and you dumb."

:: What he said as I walked into the bathroom after his two-minute time-out.  I laughed at this one for quite a while. 

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"I catched this restapede."

:: Proudly showing Diego the millipede he caught. 

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"I do it myself!"

:: Like a broken record.  Last month it was "Me do it by myself!"

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"What's a-daaaaaat?"

:: The question of the day, every day, all day.  Answers simply result with another question.

Booklist for boys

 Books my boys have loved:

• Hatchet (et al) - Gary Paulsen
• Woodsong - Gary Paulsen
• My Side of the Mountain - Jean Craighead George
• Old Yeller - Frank Gipson
• Rascal - Sterling North
• Where the Red Fern Grows - Wilson Rawls
• Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH - Robert C. O'Brien 
• Black Beauty - Anna Sewell
• The Hobbit - J.R.R. Tolkien
• The Jungle Book and The Second Jungle Book - Rudyard Kipling
• Robinson Crusoe - Daniel Defoe
• Little House Books 1-4 - Laura Ingalls Wilder

Future Reference:

• Little Britches - Ralph Moody
• Stone Fox - John Reynolds Gardiner
• Penrod - Booth Tarkington

My older boys are currently 10 and 8 years old. 
All books were absorbed either via audiobook or read aloud.