On a walk to pick up the car from the mechanic, we occupied ourselves on the unusual route with finding lots of things to add to the nature tray. We stuffed them all in my purse (including two cicada exoskeletons, both of which got a little smooshed).
Bastian carried one of the exoskeletons for a bit and kept talking about how he was "sleeping." Then he stole a rock from the stone-scaped treelawn in front of someone's house and made that the thing's bed. Unfortunately, it kept falling off, which slowed our journey down considerably (the time and walking with two children and having to get there before the place closed made this an issue), so I eventually convinced him to put both the rock bed and the sleeping dude in my purse (gently, on top). Still, smooshing occurred, though by the time we took everything out again, he'd forgotten entirely about it. We gatered all kinds of berries, seeds, and small flowers, which were all forming since Autumn is here. The colors were gorgeous and the variety on this trip was greater than our usual walks. We found some unfamiliar nuts too. Who knew there were so many varieties of crabapples?
* Pink Flowering: Adams, Indian Magic, Sugar Tyme * White Flowering: David, Donald Wyman, Red Jade, Red Jewel, Sentinel, Spring Snow (fruitless), Snowdrift, White Angel, and Zumi * Red Flowering: Centurion, Indian Summer, Prairiefire, Red Barron, Red Splendor
I don't even know what kinds are here... Interesting seed pods of all shapes and sizes... More bark, different from the other samples we have. Interestingly, when we finally got back home, Papa was there and announced that he had gathered something for the Nature Tray on his walk home. A gorgeous Blue Jay feather! We had seen a Blue Jay in someone's yard on our walk as well. For awhile, we had three circling our house regularly, hanging out in the trees above the compost pile. When the fruit flies started to eat the juiciest berries we'd collected, I decided to dehydrate all of them in the oven. I placed them all on a sheet of wax paper on a cookie tray on 200° (our lowest setting) for several hours while I sewed a quilted Mandala for my friend's upcoming Croning ceremony.
During a completely lazy, yet somehow magically stressed-out day when the house was trashed and I had too many things to do, I took a hint from The Artful Parent to make melted crayon suncatchers as though this would somehow release me (and the children) from the chaos, tension, and emotional nightmare of our day.
So I grated old crayons. And the children arranged the shavings in sheets of folded wax paper. And sort of mixed them altogether in a huge mess where many got smooshed into our floors, where now there are assorted spots of varying shades. At first, I set the wax paper on the stove because the oven was on. I left it too long and black wax melted onto my enameled cooktop. Then we tried the iron (between two sheets of plain white paper) with worse results. Then I lowered the setting on the iron and it didn't melt so well. Then we began to get things right with a slightly elevated temperature on the iron. A little too long in the ironing... And perfection reached at last. I'm not sure that I wouldn't have to feel out the temperature settings all over again if I tried this project in the future. The kids lost interest in arranging after awhile, so any more would likely not happen and doing it again would probably result with a similar pass/fail ratio. They are now taped in two strips in front of the window above the boys' table in the dining room.
The whole experiment made quite the mess (it is a shame we don't have more space here for all of our projects - it would solve so much) and I was all stressed out anyway, so this didn't really help. I also have a tendency to boss too much, which is problematic and likely why the kids lose interest in all my activities so quickly. I am working on my mood.
Saturday morning, we discovered the first of our chrysalids had hatched and a little Painted Lady sat still on the mesh of the Butterfly Bungalow. I think she had just emerged when we noticed because she started dribbling what I am told is meconium on the enclosure. It looks like blood, but is just the first waste, I guess. Much like baby meconium. The boys gathered flowers, which we put in water and dribbled with sugar water to feed her. We were all terribly excited and watched for awhile. The other chrysalids began to darken. At one point, Bastian removed the pin holding up the sheet they were attached to, which caused them to fall and get scared. They shook rapidly back and forth, which is apparently a warning to predators to back the eff off.
Bastian loved his butterflies and spent lots of time looking at them. When we went to bed that night, two of the chrysalids were growing quite dark, but had yet to emerge. I was sure we'd get to see them in the morning. When I checked at first, they were still in their shells, but after a couple of hours of me shlepping around, drinking coffee, and sitting at the computer, I checked back to see that then there were three. I checked repeatedly the rest of the morning and missed the fourth emergence, but finally got a good look when the last little butterfly started to come out. It happens quicker than I'd expected, which is why this little guy is just trying to pry his little butterfly butt free of the chrysalid shell. They have cute little elvin noses. When I pulled back the lid of the bungalow to get better shots, I had to shoo Aleks and Bastian's hands away. I'm not sure if touching their fragile little wings is such a good idea. I was surprised at the dull browns and grays. With a name like Painted Lady, one expects something a little more dramatic. Still the youngest crawls to freedom, flexing his wings, airing them out. Then he begins to crawl up our yucky, meconium soaked paper. His wings begin really fluffing out. We never got too good a look at them all wet and folded. They seemed pretty dry from the get-go. Reminds me of Silence of the Lambs somehow... Bastian, who still loves everything, loves his butterflies and hugged the cage to prove it. Two afternoons later, Papa took the boys out while I hurriedly ran off to a board meeting to let the butterflies out. The guy at the toy store told us the weather would still be okay for awhile and we confirmed this with other butterfly sightings in the meantime, so we went ahead as planned rather than starting a butterfly farm of our own. I don't feel quite confident enough or mean enough to keep them indoors for their entire life cycle. Bastian tried to pull the two that were mating apart. Jon managed to keep his fat little fingers off their delicate, er... dance. The release:
Who knew that grasshoppers could bite? Or had mouths, for that matter? I suppose they must eat. I did dissect one in Bio 101 back in college, so I suppose I should know this, but I didn't really think of the biting a human potential. They do seem to have mouths. Maybe the paps hurt. At any rate... Aleks found a grasshopper in the front yard. He did this last week too. These are nice big ones. I've never seen such large grasshoppers in Cleveland before. Wonder what we were feeding them this year... He held it there for awhile so I could get a good look. Then it bit him and he yelled, "ow!!!" and I had to help him pry the thing off his finger. Then there was this goo left behind. We're a little wary of grasshoppers now. After the whole toad information I got the other day, I was really keen to wash the brown goo off right away lest it burn a hole in his finger.
Bastian builds a "Stack of Stuff" and loves it. He loves everything lately. Ever since we weaned (3 years, 2 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days), he's been loving on everyone and everything, apparently. He often hugs me for no reason and says, "I love you." He does the same with Aleks and Jon. He touches my face and says sweet things like, "I your boy," and "You my mom." It's kind of difficult when I'm trying to sleep and he's insisting that I kiss him on the lips again and again by holding my head and moving it for me. But it's still the sweetest thing ever.
I invited families from my local Attachment Parenting message board over for a playdate to give the kids other kids to play with and to get the moms out of the house. I did one last month too and might continue them through the winter. It's mostly younger kids now that school is back in session, which is a bit disappointing to Aleks. He always wants Jonas to come over, but Anna watches kids at her home and can't come visit during the day.
Aleks convinced me to buy this snorkel at the thrift store two evenings previous. At first I was disinclined due to not feeling like it would be used and trying to limit my thrift store purchases to what was really needed, but then I realized it'd be great in the costume box. So far, this assumption has been dead on. Bastian was wearing it before our guests arrive. Remembering that I needed to feed the kids, I chopped up a bunch of finger foods and set them out. Aleks and Bastian made Salad People. Bastian really found this fun. Aleks is quite serious about constructing his monsters. He used the grapes from City Fresh which do taste too sour for actually eating to create three eyes. His monster appears to have claws instead of hands and some extra appendages sprouting out of his arms, though I'm uncertain as to what precisely they were intended to be. Bastian also used these sour grapes and made four eyes to Aleks' two. The faces are made of a plop of yogurt. Bastian's Salad Person's pasta hair appears quite beaky if you look at it right. Perhaps the crackers are wings. One of the older children got a little bored, so I brought out some things for her to draw and paint. All of the children then had to participate, of course and a brief stint of painting took place. The main problem with this was seating them all and their remaining happy despite neighboring elbows. It seemed to mostly work out. After the littlest children left, the older kids wanted to go outside to play. I brought out the rubber animals and dinosaurs and lizards to keep them occupied in the front of the yard as opposed to having to chase them around and around the house. They drew on the sidewalk with chalk and made the animals have lots of battles. I loved the way they all looked in the sunlight and took lots of photos. This lizard was bought for me in Australia by family friends Marty and Dan when they were on their honeymoon 8 years ago. It's a Frilled Dragon and it's name is Leonardo "Jon" DiCaprio. I didn't name it. Marty really wanted to call it Leonardo DiCaprio, I think because she doesn't like Leo DiCaprio (maybe she's changed her mind now that he's the international spokesperson for global warming). We were also reading an article in the local free paper at the time where my step-father was referred to as Jim "Rev Cool" Carter, which is stupid because it should be Rev. Cool aka Jim Carter, no ridiculous quotation marks necessary. Because of that, Marty felt that Leo should have Jon as his middle name, after my dear husband and that the quotation marks must be essential since the pseudo-professional journalist insisted on the dang things. Plus it's just goofy. So whenever I tell people my Frilled Dragon's name, I use my hands to make quotation marks around "Jon." Very important. This is Aleks' twenty dollar T-Rex he bought. He spent forty-six dollars on three dinosaurs. The jaws open on two of them and they really are quite high quality. I suppose now I'm thrilled he has a little less money to obsess about heading to the toy store with. His consumerism seems mostly sated for the time being. I should remember these photos for making cards with later... The day went quite smoothly, though I was exhausted at the end of it. I had to head out for a Mom's Night Out just a couple of hours later too. We accidentally got Anna's mom really drunk. Not that that has anything to do with unschooling...
To Rocky River, as we often go, on an evening hike with Anna, Jonas, and Lavinia. The encroaching darkness gave us an excuse to keep the kids on track, moving forward, and avoid stragglers - we did not want to get stuck in the woods in the dark. The kids were all terribly excited to see each other, running down the path from the parking lot to one another with open arms, laughing and hugging. Lavinia succeeded in getting a little too close to Bastian who had fallen asleep in the car and thus retreated from attention due to grogginess. She does this with everyone. Especially babies.
Anna spied a toad in the path. Aleks immediately set to catching and dropping it and catching it again. He showed it to all the others. He said it peed on him. Anna explained that it's not pee, just sweat. I'm not certain if that's true or not. Google did not yield much beyond this bit of information:
the warty skin contains many glands that produce a poisonous milky fluid, providing these toads with excellent protection from many of their predators. This poison is only harmful if it is swallowed or if it gets in the eyes, but it can make many animals very sick.
So the jury is still out on the toad pee issue. The woods were getting darker very quickly. We once all got lost in Rocky River Reservation during an early autumn evening and it was terribly nerve-wracking and not a little bit scary for Anna and I. This time, we took the trail we know best and didn't veer off the path to insure we'd be just fine. Even still, the darkening sky was a little intimidating. The colors drain from everything in the dim light, our faces and clothing and the dirt and trees and sky become but varying shades of gray. At the top of the cliff, you could still see the bit of sun setting beyond the horizon. Across the Gorge, atop the distant hill, sat two towers topped with bright red lights to warn off landing planes. Against the dusky sky, the lights glowed like the eyes of a monster. The kids all agreed. There was a flock of geese flying and honking, then landing, then flying in a circle and honking some more. We're pretty certain it was the same group again and again, making a bunch of racket as they passed us. Here they appear but a blur due to low light and my (relatively) cheap digital camera. The water glowed, light as the sky, a silvery sheet far beneath us. And again the geese flew past. The land opposite this cliff houses the airport just a little ways in the distance. We often watch planes landing and taking off from our perch. It's an interesting view, with the planes larger than we are accustomed to and an angle that puts us level with them. Here, the plane appears as but a streak of light, ascending into the deepening evening, headed westward to chase the sun. This must be how those UFO photos came to be - bright lights a camera cannot hope to capture. My friend Michelle did a series of these beautiful watercolors that depicted such UFO sightings, with little blips above houses and seascapes and cow pastures. They were so gorgeous and perfectly bizarre I wanted to buy them all.
Uncle Kevin came to visit over the weekend. He ordinarily lives in Nicaragua where he grows coffee and avocados and bananas and tomatoes and other assorted vegetables and bakes in the sweltering humidity while we shiver in our boots. He's basically an ex-pat. We love him dearly despite his propensity to paint the zombie apocalypse in more dire terms and with a sense of immediacy which we tend to disagree on. Otherwise, we're on exactly the same page in terms of building Hobbiton. He will be our partner in crime when the day comes (if we could only agree on the location). Saturday afternoon while I cleaned at the Food Co-op in preparation for the 40th anniversary party on Sunday, Kevin, Jon and the boys walked to Coventry to peruse the book store and Big Fun. Kevin wanted to get lost in the bookshop for hours, staring down all the used spines in search of Don Quixote and fondling the brittle pages of Marxist philosophy and old copies of Mother Earth News. Jon informed him this is not a possibility with two young sons and that he had about 5 minutes if they were lucky.
Aleks and Bastian did quite well and it was 10 minutes before they were really running completely amok, pulling all the science fiction paperbacks out at random on the second floor. Jon ushered them outside to await Kevin's final purchases. Suzanne, co-owner of the shop, recognized that Kevin must be visiting our family from out of town. Kevin confirmed and she told him that she "loves those kids."Apparently they both agree that we're awesome parents and our kids are just phenomenal in their confidence and curiosity.
As someone who's frequently trying to hold onto a three-year-old while finding where the copies of The Apocalypse Door and Not of Woman Born all go, it's hard for me to always recognize this as true. As much as the energy and self-assuredness of my children results in meltdowns and difficulties for all of us, I am always trying to remind myself that these same facts will serve them incredibly well as they grow. Knowing that they are unafraid, completely comfortable in most situations, and speak to adults as they would anyone, I can see that they will most surely become who they are. I can see that they will do what they need to do to accomplish their deepest desires and dream huge, without the same extent of questioning and doubting that the rest of us non-unschooled adults are burdened with. When I see who they are and acknowledge how I am raising them, I recognize the bits of them that are respected and valued as autonomous and wonderful and how this will in all likelihood result in the independent thought and critical thinking I want so badly for them when they are grown. What's more is that it is so extraordinary that these childless neighbors recognize it too.
After the bookstore, Aleks convinced Kevin to buy he and Bastian toys at Big Fun. When I came home that evening, there was a puddle underneath a red bowl on one of our lovely antique side tables in the living room with these eggs inside. The purple-gray-ish thing on the right is an alien, which is Aleks' and the egg on the left, Aleks informed me, has a "crocogator" inside. They both hatched by morning. Aleks tried to dry them out again overnight in front of the fan without success and the boys have both been attached to them ever since, including them in their monster battles, carrying them about, and playing with them in the tub. Their paint is peeling off, which grosses me out a bit and they're unnaturally lumpy, resulting in an odd looking alien and a less odd-looking crocogator.
For Aleks' birthday, I got him a Butterfly garden after having seen them several places about town - the library, the Natural History Museum, the toy store... And also because I promised him we'd get one back when Billy died. After we sent in our coupon for the larvae, I got a bunch of books at the library in case the boys were interested in learning more. It took much longer than expected for the caterpillars to come. Jon was home when they arrived and brought them with him to U.G.O. They didn't really do anything at that time, though except have to remain upright in their jar. Over the next week they grew and grew, getting bigger everyday. They finally reached full size on Friday and began to make their way up to the top of the jar. Friday night, all five of them were in position. Just a few hours later, one had already begun forming the outer chrysalis shell. By morning, all five had entered the chrysalis stage and were ready to be moved into the butterfly bungalow. We took the paper carefully from the jar... ...and pinned it inside the mesh cage. In 7-10 days, they will hatch. I'm so excited!!!!
I had the sewing machine out for my own super secret surprise that is a'coming, so Aleks and I decided to make him a little animal like I've seen elsewhere in many variations (here with crayons, here with stitching, here for profit, here is my favorite, here where I remembered I wanted to do it). So first, he set to planning out what he wanted in his sketch book. Again, he decided on a dragon. He said it was to have five heads and every one of its arms would have a sword and every one of its heads would breathe fire. The sketch completed. Then he set with permanent marker to re-drawing the dragon onto a bit of canvas. He filled the space more than I anticipated, which changed the shape of the final product a bit into a pillow rather than much of a stuffie. No matter. We chose canvas because I had some, for one thing, and also because I didn't bother to buy any special supplies, so we made do with acrylic paints and sharpie rather than purchasing fabric markers or whatever it is you're supposed to do for this project. Clearly, I didn't read the directions. I'm bad at that. Then we set to painting. Aleks started, but I finished in order to get all the small little spots with my rather large paintbrushes. He wanted the body green and we mutually decided on blue for the limbs, purple for the hands, yellow for the teeth and claws, red for the eyes and fire, and silver and black for the swords and their hilts. The finished painting. While I painted and we let the dragon dry, the boys painted with watercolors in their sketchbooks. It's been awhile since we dragged out art supplies beyond crayons, markers, and paper. Aleks drew robots, aliens, and crocodiles for himself and for Bastian. Bastian clearly painted over Aleks' drawing, however (above). Then they all sat drying in the sun. After the dragon was dry, I cut it out along with a backing from the same canvas. There wasn't much room for a seam at all. I helped Aleks begin sewing, but finished myself as we had trouble guiding it. He stuffed it full of poly-fill though. Then I stitched up the remainder, which took longest as I had to go back and hand sew some places where the seam was too close to the edge. I've found that sewing is quite difficult for me as my right hand is still mostly numb from my hand injury 22 months ago. We nestled the finished dragon in the bean bag & teepee cozy nook. It fit right in with the other monsters.
The boys went digging for bugs again in this brick mess that Aleks made. There were lots of slugs and Roly Polies as always, but today they discovered a "lizard." I told them it was a salamander. The neighbor kids said they turned into tadpoles. I told them tadpoles grew into frogs. we also discussed where salamanders live and that we couldn't have this one out too long as it was such a hot day he might shrivel. We did take him inside to show Papa though. Then we took him back out and put him under one of the bricks. The boys spent a little extra time saying goodbye before coming in for dinner, however. When Aleksander was a baby, my mother sang a song to the tune of Thumbelina, bestowing Aleks with the nickname Salamander:
Aleksander Salamander tiny little thing Aleksander dance, Salamander sing Aleksander what’s the difference if you’re very small? When your heart is full of love you’re nine feet tall
The whole time he was in the hospital after his first surgery (several days), we sang that to him as well as lots of the songs from theOh Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack and my favorite lullabies, Hush Little Baby, You Are My Sunshine, and Hush-a-Bye. I can never remember most of the lyrics to many of these songs, unfortunately. My mother seems to catalog them all somehow.
Our first Unschooling conference... A late evening trip to Target the evening previous for clearanced water shoes and an additional set of swim floaties and life jacket was interrupted by a phone call from my father informing me that my grandmother had passed that evening. As she lived in Texas and I don't have any money, I was unable to make the trip for the funeral. Jon and I committed to taking the kids down to meet the rest of the family later this fall or winter instead. None of my family there has ever met my children as we're all very lacking in the spare funds department and making the 24-hour car trip with two small children seemed impossible until recently. The funeral was held Saturday. She was buried on the family land next to my grandfather, Manuel, who passed away in the early weeks of my pregnancy with Aleks. Aleks now has his name: Aleksander Manuel. We never had a girl to consider using my grandmother's name, which was Rebecca.
She was my favorite grandmother of all my many grandparents. She taught me to make tortillas and bought a piano when I suggested she should have one. The Monday before her death, she was talking to my Aunt Anita about having had so many of the grandchildren at the house that weekend. She told her she wanted to call me to tell me that she regretted my not being there and to catch up. We spoke on the phone regularly in the last few years and wrote letters to one another. I don't know anyone who still writes to their grandmother, but I did. I would tell her all about what the children were doing and how my life was. I wrote long-winded letters, just as I write long-winded blog posts and everything else. They were hand-written on small pieces of decorative stationary in slanty cursive that never stayed in straight-lines and went on back and front for sometimes a dozen pages.
My grandmother's letters to me were usually just a couple of pages, often on greeting cards for holidays that people don't usually send greeting cards for, like Independence Day. Her handwriting, which was lovely and spiked, was cramped and sometimes difficult to read, especially as they were written almost in dialect. She always had to continue onto the back of the card above where it said Hallmark or Carlton. She told me about the cousins and the dogs and the health problems of all my relatives. She would send me article clippings and once a photo of her rose bush blooming in February - or was it April?
Jon's favorite story of us is about an argument we had. Last year in a phone conversation, we were talking about raising kids and she made some mention of listening to Dr. Dobson on the radio. She asked if I knew who he was. I groaned and started going on and on about how horrible he is because he wrote about how mothers make their sons gay by coddling them. I talked about how homophobic and hateful and awful that was. She said that lots of gay people, including some of our family members, are very nice and all, but that they were still going to Hell. I lectured her about going to that church of my Uncle Tommy's too much and how it was filling her mind with hate and that they were preaching hate and she should just be done with the lot of 'em. I laughed the whole time too. It was so nice to have this grandmother that I could argue with about incredibly controversial moral issues and still be laughing and fine with her. I outright yelled at the poor arthritic woman on the phone, though never with anger. It makes me giggle a little just thinking of it.
It's funny too, because when I was a kid, I remember we'd always let Tommy's kids watch things they weren't supposed to on TV when he wasn't around. They weren't even supposed to watch TV. They're Pentecostal and only ever listened to Christian radio or classical music. I have to think that Mozart would have been off-limits if they'd been around 300 years earlier. Grandma didn't seem to mind the crazy heathen world when I was little. I don't think she minded too much in recent years either. Maybe she just pretended otherwise at those tent revivals where she spoke in tongues and ate live chickens or whatever else it was that they did.
My mother said she was a really cool lady and I have to agree. My mother still makes her recipes even though she and my dad haven't been together for 28 years. The first time we went to bee school (my parents keep bees), my mom entered my grandmother's Mill Hollow bread recipe in the honey cooking contest under my name and I won a strand of Christmas lights with plastic bees over them. She also makes her Sour Milk Cake for every birthday and any holiday when she can find an excuse for it (you can find her recipes at the bottom of this post). I'd like to think that when I die, I'll be remembered by my grandchildren as a really cool lady. We went to camp on Thursday as planned, thinking there was a possibility the funeral might be delayed and I could leave early and work something out. Thinking back, I don't think there was a way I could have made it. There wasn't enough time to get things in order. I say this because I have to rationalize my absence as I deeply regret missing it. On the other hand, it's good the funeral was early because by Tuesday, the family was boarding up the three houses on the land in Goliad and evacuating to Austin due to Hurricane Ike.
UGO was held at Camp Akita, which was actually a Christian summer camp (the Christian part was weird for us - there were Jesus fish on the corn hole set???). They rent it out to groups. The land is really beautiful. My sister Natalie came with the kids and I on Thursday and Jon joined us on Friday after classes for the rest of the weekend. As soon as Jon arrived, he noted how stupid it was to cut down all the trees on this hill above the pond as all the buildings will eventually slide into the murky depths due to the lack of roots to prevent erosion of the landscape. Ever the environmental historian and decidedly grumpy, Jon brings such joy to all our excursions. I mocked him for being such a downer. After dragging all our crap down the hill in 85-degree weather, we all stripped of our soggy clothing and put on swimsuits for a dip in the pond. Aleks claimed the new life jacket and purple swim floaties. Bastian used our old set. I find that the boys have the most autonomy in the water with the combination of both flotation devices. Since I make skinny kids, the jackets tend to float up around their necks, but in conjunction with the water wings, they're able to swim quite freely. The pond was quite large and had a diving board, a floating dock, canoes, paddle boats, a row boat, and fishing rods. I jumped off the high dive for the first time in my life. In the past, I'd mostly stood at the edge staring down for half an hour before turning around while all those in line behind me groaned and made fun of me. We were told to bring a flashlight for each member of our family, but we seemed to have completely lost the boys' headlamps. Where they've gone, I have no idea. If anyone is psychic and can locate them as well as a AT-AT/Storm Trooper transformer, and a rubber Cerberus, please let me know. The kids had fun with our normal flashlights, nonetheless. Anna, Jonas, and Lavinia were in the cabin next to us, so there was much running back and forth and playing in all the bunks and shining light in each others' eyes. Walking up to breakfast one morning (or was it lunch? Oh how things get so confused), Jonas and Aleks found a giant reed that had broken free of the others, or perhaps he pulled it off, but they broke it in bits and had lots of fun using it as a weapon. Of course, a little while later, Jonas came into the kitchen crying terribly as he was punctured badly in the hand. What we learned from the borrowed first aid kit is that iodine hurts much worse than initial injuries. Next time, we will run all the way down the hill and all the way back up to retrieve my own first aid kit with the much preferred hydrogen peroxide and triple antibiotic ointment (which I need to replace with A&D when it runs out). Aleks got hurt too. He called it his "door cut" as it was from the door hitting his foot when he opened it. He was sure to tell me all about it too. No iodine necessary. Aleks was really into starting fires. Friday afternoon, he tried to rekindle the previous evening's campfire by rubbing sticks together. Natalie showed him that it's better to spin it than to simply rub as you conserve energy. We urged him away from the wood and out of the charcoal. He did help another dad start the campfire that evening, which was good fun for him (less fun for me when I couldn't find him after). Friday was also my scheduled "funshop" (so called because as unschoolers, it's preferable to "workshop" even as a contrived attempt at organized community - which, while contrived remains optional and functional, yet enjoyable to mock, as are most things). I did a noise/music-making funshop for the littles. The schedule ended up being perfect as it was during the challenge course for the 10 & ups, so they were all off somewhere deep in the woods scaling giant pieces of timber erected upright. Meanwhile, the littler ones all shook their groove thangs and had a noise parade through the lodge. Aleks was off somewhere playing his mixed up version of Monopoly and Bastian was incredibly tired and clinging to me for dear life while all these rascally kids got down with endless noise. I eventually took Bastian and Lavinia back to the cabin since they were so so so tired while Anna waited for the kids to finish with the basket of instruments I brought. We didn't think they'd just keep going for so long. There were three girls hanging on for something nearing an hour, slowly and steadily, as if mesmerized, clanging their symbols over and over like some mechanical rabbit... The communal restrooms were something of an event whenever we had to take all the kids in. Bastian and Aleks liked to crawl under the stalls (ew) and lock all the doors, which we then had to coerce (ack! bad unschooler word! ha!) them into unlocking them again as their lithe little bodies were much more adept at getting beneath than us. Bastian enjoyed the mirrors a bit as a distraction while others pooed and peed and brushed their teeth in unison. Papa arrived on Friday evening during a communal dinner of tacos and endless arrays of corn-syrupy desserts. Saturday he took the boys fishing, which another father had been so kind as to instruct Aleks in the ways of early Friday. Aleks has wanted to fish for ages and would often try to catch the minnows in local creeks with bits of grass or sticks. It was quite exciting for him to learn to cast, but I think he got bored after awhile of not catching anything. He asked me if people really caught boots or if that was just in cartoons.
During one of our several boat rides, we spotted little fish and a giant bullfrog. When Papa took the boys out to fish, I stood on the high dive and jumped (again - five times total!). Aleks asked Jon why I was naked because I'm super super pale and my bikini was white, so I looked naked. We spent most of Saturday during the day in the pond, fishing, swimming, and getting sun-burnt. My scalp got burned and it started finally flaking off all the dead skin today.
Saturday in the late afternoon there were a series of discussions - one about real food by a naturopath/chiropractor, which was a welcome interruption to the steady supply of Flavor-Ice available free in the cooler (somehow I managed to keep my kids to only two each - that I know of). The discussion ultimately lead to a group of families (us included) skipping on dinner and joining their collective foods to make what someone termed the Renegade Potluck. It was a great Potluck - we had ratatouille, corn on the cob, pesto, tons of fruits, veggies, cheese, & crackers, smuggled Chardonnay, and some phenomenal grass-fed, free-range meats cooked over a fire with a grill-top Neil constructed.
The second discussion was about Unschooling the Special/High Needs Child. We discussed Aleks' taking off some more, which I think I've discussed in every parenting discussion I've come across lately. I did feel a little like I didn't belong just because I know the real aim of the discussion was for children with SPD or on the Autism/Asperger's spectrum and I feel like a gate-crasher with my neuro-typical children. At least I think they're neuro-typical. I did talk about them being feral, however. That I think made me fit in a bit.
Ian took this photo of me while we discussed plans for our Renegade Potluck. Sitting here helped me get more sun-burnt. And I took one of Anna who was parked on the balcony waiting to see when the Real Foods discussion would end so she could talk about having crazy children. While we lazed about before the discussions, Bastian's sandwich was eaten by one of Barbara's dogs. And Jon harassed Anna, which he does really quite well...
After our renegade potluck, we made s'mores around the campfire for the third night in a row (the kids had never had them before because Jon was vegan for so long and we wouldn't allow marshmallows). They were delicious, as always. Bonnie had a big stick with lots of branches that she put all sorts of marshmallows on to roast 10-15 at once. I prefer my marshmallows burnt and taught my boys to catch them on fire for me.
After s'mores, it was to bed for the children. Then some of us adults drank a ton more of our smuggled Chardonnay around the campfire yelling about Japanese anime and the Holocaust (specifically drunken conversations about how Barbara's people killed Jon's people - all in good fun, of course) until the wee hours of the morning. Anna and I demonstrated our singing skills, as we always tend to do after many glasses of wine. We all got about four hours of sleep before packing it up the next day, sweeping out the cabins and driving back home.
Recipes
Grandma Martinez's Tortillas (as given to her by her sister-in-law, Esther, so she could properly feed Manuel)
4 cups flour 1 tsp salt 1 tsp baking powder 6 tablespoons shortening (1/3 rounded cup) *we use spectrum naturals non-hydrogenated About 1 cup very hot water
Mix shortening in with dry ingredients with hands. Add hot water all at once & mix with spoon. Kneed with hands until smooth & not sticky. If you put too much water, add more flour. Bake on hot grill or skillet. Very good fried in hot fat with cinnamon & sugar or syrup.
Mill Hollow Bread
2 cups milk 3 Tbs. butter 1 Tbs. salt 1/2 tsp. honey or sugar 4 cups unbleached flour 4 cups whole wheat flour 1/4 cup wheat germ 2/3 cup honey 2 Tbs. unsulphered or blackstrap molasses 2 Tbs. melted butter 1/2 cup very warm water 2 envelopes active dry yeast
1. Heat milk, 3 Tbs. butter, salt, molasses, and 2/3 cup honey. Cool. 2. Pour water in mixing bowl with yeast and 1/2 tsp. honey. Let stand 10 mins. 3. Add milk mix to white flour. Beat 2 mins. 4. Add wheat germ & whole wheat flour. 5. Knead. 6. Place in greased bowl. Cover. Let rise til doubled. 7. Punch down. Knead. Divide into 3 equal parts. Cover and let rest 10 mins. 8. Shape into loaves and place into 3 greased loaf pans. Cover - let rise til doubled. 9. Bake at 350° for 40 ins. Brush tops with melted butter if desired.
Banana Bread 1/2 cup margarine or butter 1 cup sugar 2 eggs 3 overripe, mashed bananas 2 cups flour 1 tsp. baking soda pinch salt 2 tsp. vanilla extract 1 cups pecans or walnuts, chopped
Cream butter. Add sugar. Beat until fluffy. Add eggs, beat. Add bananas, beat. Add flour, soda, salt & vanilla. Mix well. Stir in nuts. Bake in greased & floured loaf pan at 325° for 1 hour or until knife comes clean.
City Fresh brings us such delicious treats including local organic peaches on which the boys immediately begin to munch. They then sit calmly awaiting Reilly to make it across the parking lot for which to chase him and squeal and climb the hill and run behind the library and brandish sticks.
This blog is intended to chronicle the life-learning journey of sugarboot and weasel, the youngest members of our unschooling family of four: Jon, Aleks (7), Bastian (4), and anna kiss, the primary author. Jon is finishing his PhD in Environmental History. Anna volunteers in the local foods movement and birth activism. Aleks lives Lego and being an artist. Bastian dissects social interactions through imaginative play. We live in Ohio and are venturing toward the radical in every facet of our lives. One day, we'll build Hobbiton. For now, the Northern coast keeps us.
We gatered all kinds of berries, seeds, and small flowers, which were all forming since Autumn is here. The colors were gorgeous and the variety on this trip was greater than our usual walks.
We found some unfamiliar nuts too.
Who knew there were so many varieties of crabapples? 
Interesting seed pods of all shapes and sizes...
More bark, different from the other samples we have.
Interestingly, when we finally got back home, Papa was there and announced that he had gathered something for the Nature Tray on his walk home. A gorgeous Blue Jay feather! We had seen a Blue Jay in someone's yard on our walk as well. For awhile, we had three circling our house regularly, hanging out in the trees above the compost pile.
When the fruit flies started to eat the juiciest berries we'd collected, I decided to dehydrate all of them in the oven. I placed them all on a sheet of wax paper on a cookie tray on 200° (our lowest setting) for several hours while I sewed a quilted Mandala for my friend's upcoming Croning ceremony.
