A sad tale of a baby bird

So on Monday Kaetlyn walked down to Kal highschool to get her report card and her information about her next years classes (which didn't get here in the mail because of our move...). On her way back as she walked past all the heavy construction where they are putting in sewer lines on Kal Lake Rd., she happened upon a baby bird by the side of the road too young to fly. So she picked it up and brought it home. We did a fair amount of research and made some phone calls and discovered that it was a Cedar Waxwing. A friend of mine sent me a link to this website which is a really cool and informative site! Look how beautiful Cedar Waxwings are! It already had the distinctive bright yellowy-orange stripe on its tail feathers And it had a beautiful little song.



We loved it! We discovered that it was a fruit and berry eater and that Waxwings are amongst the latest birds to sit a nest which is why there is a baby bird at the end of the summer... We fed it chunks of plums and berries from our Mountain Ash and water by a dropper. It was very fun. Kaetlyn arranged for a friend of hers to nurse it while we are gone to Calgary this week end.










It was very interesting to watch Delila and Coppellia. At first they paid the baby bird no mind at all and didn't even seem to notice it. Then, suddenly, yesterday morning it was like a switch flipped and Delila first realized through some deep genetic memory that this was her prey and she tried to leap up and pounce on the bird. Even though I was watching her and trying to stop her, her drive for the bird obliterated me. Soon after Coppellia also realized that this was a possible food source for her... I put them outside and they climbed a tree and came in an upstairs window. Of course, I saved the bird and then we went into the kitchen and closed all the doors. They prowled around the kitchen door and crouched in the 'pounce ready' position. Here they are at the kitchen door.



And here is Delila coming through the door, taking advantage of me taking pictures of them... We managed to save the wee bird from the cats but it died anyways. It lasted about 24 hours. I don't know what it was. Too much food? Not mushed up enough? Not enough food? (it ate ALOT). Was it ill and so the mother bird pushed it out of the nest in the first place? I suspect, we didn't keep it warm enough. When I discovered it near death, it was very chilled and although I warmed it up, it died in my hands. I was in awe of what mysterious things mother birds do for their young that keep them alive. I was in awe of the fragility of life and how one moment it is there and one moment it is not. We learned a lot about that bird. Because it had few feathers, the kids could clearly see the bird's digestive system - the berries and fruit gather in the gullet.



So thank you, baby Cedar Waxwing for coming to us for such a short time. I wish we could have done better for you...

Last Days of Summer

Thank you, Beth for the beautiful new skin. I love it! Aren't I lucky to have such a talented sister (she's beautiful, too - she's got it all!) And I even managed to get the comments working myself. Yay!

Well, these are the last days of summer and despite the voiciferous protest that I am sure will be launched by Bean and Pea, I love summer and I always feel sad as it starts to fade. I have a hard time enjoying fall because I know winter is coming and I just don't like winter. I am sure it all stems from my childhood in Northern BC where winter lasts from October to May and sometimes September to June.... I love summer, the warm, soft air, the fragences that waft on the evening breezes, swimming in the lake, summer clothes - not having to put on layers before you go outside, fresh produce, fruit....I could go on and on. Anyways, the last days of summer are precious to me! We made the most of it yesterday by spending the day at Ellison. Here we are:

Kaetlyn and Meg (who's visiting for the week) jump off the rocks into the water while I watch from the tube.











My beautiful daugter, Kaetlyn, trying to get up the courage to jump off the cliffs... Will she do it?


































I love this picture - Dean mid air - jumping off the cliffs.


We had fun. We swam, we jumped, we laid on the warm rocks, I snorkled around and marvelled at the huge schools of baby salmon, we roasted hot dogs for dinner, ate chips and blueberries, laughed and played together. I love summer....

Good for you

I am having a hard time blogging as I hate my skin now. I wrecked it by fiddling with the html and now 1/2 of Bethany's great design is gone and what is left is somehow magnified and it is all weird with frames... I wish I knew enough to fix it or had 4 hours to sit at the computer and learn enough to make my own skin. And the comments still aren't working right... Thank you to all of you who left comments anyways!

Other than that, I am having a great day. I have been industrious in the kitchen inspired by my friend, I have made soup from every vegetable growing in my garden. Okay, so it is a little heavy on zucchini. Did I mention that I love zucchini? My soup is not quite as pure as hers, I added some beef stock... And it does have half an onion and one potatoe that did not come from my garden. Other than that, the beets, the carrots, the basil, the dill, the peppers (and did I mention the zucchini...) all came from my garden. It is simmering now, ready for lunch. Kaetlyn is making biscuits right now to go with it. Yum!

Before I got to the soup I made muffins - my taste-great-and-good-for-you muffins. I have modified the original recipe so much, that I think it is fair to say that this is my own recipe. It varies everytime but this is what I made this morning:

Andrea's Good-For-You Muffins (no sugar and low fat)

-preheat oven to 400 degrees and grease muffin tins (paper liners don't work well because there is very low fat content and the paper becomes one with the muffin...). This recipe makes 24 muffins. Because of the high organic content, I recommend freezing and then thawing muffins as you want to eat them. My kids don't like them (too healthy) so I take out 2 or 3 a day for myself.

1/3 cup water
2 T olive oil
2 farm fresh, free range eggs
5 med bananas
2 cups of grated zucchini (did I mention that I have lots of zucchini?)
1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

- mix all above ingredients with mixer until well mixed and fluffy

-add following ingredients and then mix with wooden spoon until wet - don't over mix
2 cups whole grain spelt flour
1 cup organic corn meal
1/2 cup organic ground flax seed
1/2 cup sesame seeds
2 teaspoons organic baking powder
1 cup sliced almonds
1 cup dried cranberries

- add more water if it doesn't look wet enough (banana's have varying amounts of water in them and it depends on whether they were frozen or not...) Spoon into muffin tins, bake at 400 degrees for 25 - 30 minutes. Check to make sure they are cooked through.

Our Camping Trip

Please make sure you read the previous post...

So we had a wonderful camping trip. We camped in Silverton and went to the Suzuki Valhalla Institute in New Denver. Kaetlyn, Drew, Rhiannon and I loaded up and headed out on Sunday. Dean was with Redfish playing in Pincher Creek, Alberta. I picked him up on Monday after the first day of classes at the Galena Bay ferry, about an hour and a half from where we were camping.
















Its actually the first time that we have camped all together as a family (without Erin of course). We borrowed a friend's large tent and Dean, Rhiannon and I slept in that one and Kaetlyn and Drew slept in our little tent. We had a great time cooking together, hanging out without phone, computer or xbox. We were in the 'Creekside Overflow' campground - a small campground.

Everyone in the campsite was also attending the 'institute' and we were there with 3 other families from Vernon. The kids quickly made friends and ran around playing together. Kaetlyn and Drew switched back and forth between hanging out with the adults and the kids. (seen here in Dave's motorcycle and sidecar - a very popular attraction that we all got rides in...) We brought Jodi with us and she behaved very well and was also very popular with the kids who walked her for hours around the campsite and tried to get her to howl.


















We had sunshine until Wednesday evening when we got some of the most dramatic thunder storms that I have ever been in. We kept snug and dry inside our tents although I got a little wet cooking spaghetti in the pouring rain... Drew had positioned the tarp entirely over their little tent and the cooking/eating area was not covered at all.... It took 3 days for my hoodie sleeves to dry that were sticking out of the gargage bag I was wearing... Thursday night it also poured but it was our night to go out to dinner with our friends. So we sat snug and warm (if not a little grubby) in the Silverton Country Inn eating warm food while it poured outside.

The lake was incredibly beautiful. Both Silverton and New Denver (which are only 5 km's apart) are on Slocan Lake - a long, very deep lake bordered by steep, majestic mountains. The water is clear and cool. There were no showers at our campground so I bathed in the lake every other morning. Even on the cool mornings after the rain. I loved it. The lake gets deep very quickly which probably made it easier to bathe in - you didn't have to wade way out there to do it, getting colder by the minute - it was just a few steps and you were up to your neck. Dean, Drew and Kaetlyn went for a couple of midnight swims in the moonlight.
















What really captured my imagination for the week was the fact that New Denver was my grandfather's first teaching position after he got his teaching certificate and they (my mother's family) lived there from 1951 - 1955. These are pictues of the house that they lived in and the view they had from the front of their house. I imagined my young mother walking along the dusty roads. They moved there when she was 8 and left when she was 12. The school where the institute was held is built on the same grounds as the school my grandfather taught and and my mother attended (he taught in the highschool which was situated right beside the elementary school). There was a very old backstop and I wondered if that was the spot where she got her tooth knocked out playing back catcher during PE.

My lasting impressions:
- how incredibly much Rhiannon learned. I am really impressed witht he Suzuki method! Their immersion theory is based on how we acquire language and it is truly amazing just how much Rhiannon learned simply by being exposed and immersed in violin music for the week.
-the wonderful, relaxed feeling of camping together as a family
-the breathless and indescribable beauty of the West Kootenays, Slocan Lake
-the sleepy, stopped-in-time, everyone-knows-everyone feeling of a tiny community of only 609 people

Some housekeeping

Well, I have deleted my tagboard due to problems people were having with viruses from it. I was sad to see all those wonderful comments go.... :(. I have spent hours trying to get my blog to do comments. I finally have it semi-functioning. You can post a comment and you can read other comments while you are posting but you can't view the comments otherwise. I don't know why. I have fiddled a lot with the html and I don't really know what I am doing. Beth, if you are able to read this, and have time on a computer, please help me... So please comment, I love comments...

Off on her adventure

This is Erin in front of our first house in Winnipeg on her way to her first day at kindergarten. I cried then, too. And then got in my car and raced to the school to be there as she got off the bus...

When I was in Toronto for surgery on my knee, it occurred to me, as I got on the gurney to be wheeled to the operating room where they were going to cut my leg in half, how unnatural it was to go willingly. To do something like that, they should have to chase you down and tie you up...

I felt the same way last night as we said good bye to Erin. I shouldn't have had to get in my van and drive away. Someone should have had to tear us apart. I wept in the alley behind her apartment as I watched her swing her baby sister around. I know what it is like to leave young siblings. You miss so much as they grow up. I wept as she and Kaetlyn clung to each other and cried as they hugged each other. In those moments all the false fighting and petty jealousies washed away and their love for each other shone through. And then I bawled my fool head off (as Dean would say - only he uses it to refer to the dog: as in barked her fool head off) as I clutched her in that alley behind her apartment. I am so proud of her and I lover her so much. I am going to miss her terribly. And it is not so much a missing of her presence in Vernon. It is more a missing of her childhood - of her still growing up - of her look of glee as she goes to kindergarten for the first time - or her grin as her first tooth fell out - of her dependence on me - of that absolute interdependence and meshing of our lives. I'm not ready for it to be done. There are still so many things I want to give her for her childhood but I can't now. It's done. This is perhaps, a big part of why I weep. I know she will always need me emotionally but in a different way. I guess her leaving for Montreal to me signals a more final door closing on her childhood. The inevitable door. Like the door she went through on her way to kindergarten...

Lots

Well, so much to write about! We had Erin's goodbye party for her on Sarah's birthday (August 3).

I have the most awesome friends! I really wanted to make Erin a blanket out of our sheep's wool that I had made into quilting batting. But there was so much going on all the time, I just didn't get it together. With 2 days to go until the party (and we're leaving camping tomorrow), two of my friends made sure I got it accomplished. True, I was up until 3am the night (morning?) before the party but I got it done. I made her a duna (that is a duvet that has wool inside instead of feathers) so that she can change the covers for it to suit whatever she is into at the time. I made the cover olive green on one side and cream on the other.

At the party, I had many of my closest friends and their young daughters here. I did a little ceremony in the living room with all of us (only girls). I had so many things planned out in my head to say that were so meaningful but most of it went right out of my head. I am going to write it out for her, though, so she will have it. I gave her 2 ribbons - a red one that symbolizes the blood that binds us - my blood that made her - the umbilical cord that was cut at birth. And I gave her a green ribbon to symbolize our hearts that bind us that can never be cut. I told her that what I want more than anything is for her to know me and for me to know her - truly. There were so many other things that I wanted to say - how I know I made many mistakes in our life together and how each one that hurt her is written in my soul. How proud I am of her. Even, now as I write all of this here, emotion overwhelms me and I forget. Bit by bit I will get it written. Maybe it is because the only thing that really matters is how much I love her! I cried and my friends cried. I wish I could be more eloquent when my emotions run so high...

But do you know what the most surprising thing for me was? Dean was leaving the next morning at 4am for Pincher Creek. Yet in the middle of the night, he wakes me up and asks if this is the last time he will see Erin before she goes and then he gets up and writes her a letter. I don't think he slept at all. I wept to read the letter the next morning. So beautiful and I am so grateful that he loves her like that and that he recognizes how important his fatherly love is to her. It was an answer to so many, many prayers I prayed on her behalf.

We are going camping tomorrow for a week to the Kootnays. We are going to be in New Denver and Silverton - where grandpa got his first teaching job. I've never been there and I'm looking forward to it. But we got a lot to do today...

My Week End

The background: Bozenka, my very good friend, is married to Brian. Brian has 3 children from a previous relationship. This last week end, his youngest daughter was married in Carstairs. Where is Carstairs, you ask? It is 30 minutes out of Airdrie. Where is Airdrie you ask? It is 30 minutes out of Calgary on the way towards Red Deer. Bozenka, who owned several restaurants once upon a time a looong time ago, contributed to the wedding by doing the catering. And Bozenka doesn't do anything in a small way. Everything she does, she does with everything she has. So I went a long to help. Here are the highlights of my trip.

- Brian rented a vehicle for us all to travel in. (I brought Rhiannon and Drew with me to visit my friend Ronni in Calgary while I worked.) We were supposed to have a mini van like a Ford Freestar or some such thing. But there was no mini van when I went to pick it up on Thursday morning. So I got my choice between 2 huge SUV's - a Ford Expedition or a Lincoln Navigator. The Lincoln was fancier but I took the Expedition because it had a built in DVD player. Now those may be huge, gas guzzling, resource hogging, polluting machines. But I tell you, it was really fun to drive. I did all the driving - there and back and many, many errands (like I know the road between Carstairs and Calgary really, really well, now. I can tell the difference between one Canola field and another...). I kept on discovering new features. It was so comfortable and the seats were so adjustable. Everyone had their own individual air conditioning controls. The kids watched movies (on head phones). It was a very comfortable trip. I wouldn't want to own one and I can't understand how people can justify driving one with only one person inside... and I can't imagine driving something so huge around the city. But it was fun - I have to admit...

- There is only 1 motel in Carstairs - the Golden West Motor Inn. I discovered this. That when a place ADVERTISES that it received the housekeeping award in .... 1994, you might be in trouble... Maybe they figured they were doing so well then, they would keep everything exactly the same. The phone was one of the original push button phones - where the buttons just replaced the dial on the face of the phone. The towels were chocolate brown and they warned us that if you leave the air conditioning on too long, it would seize.... But it was a bed to sleep in and a shower to use. And it has been fun to make fun of...

- I spent more than $1,200 on groceries alone in my many trips to many stores. (not my money, of course...) Unfortunately I came home to an almost empty fridge...

- This is why people in BC make fun of Albertans. Is this a red-necked moment or what? On Friday night, while we all worked in preparation for the wedding the next day, us in the kitchen and the decorating crew (friends of the bride and groom) worked in the hall, the 'groomsmen' made dinner. Do you know what they did? They set up a propane burner in the alley behind the hall, sat on the back of a pick-up truck while music played in the truck stereo, beers in hand, and deep fried 3 turkeys. Yup, that's right. They deep fried them...

- The wedding was beautiful. Brian was dashing, his daughter was gorgeous. Her dress was perfect. The food was wonderful and exactly on time. I had a great time visiting with Bozenka and her sister, Goranka and Jackie and the other 'kitchen staff'. And I came home with a huge hunk of prime rib...

Ultimately it was an honour and priviledge to be included in this family event. I was glad to be of service to my friend, Bozenka who does so much for me. I'd do it again in a second.

Loosing teeth

Guess what is hiding behind that black kitten (Coppellia)















TA DA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






































And here are Kaetlyn and Erin with their first lost tooth as well...

Some of the Best Years of My Life

Some of the best years of my adult life were in my 20's when Erin and I lived alone together. Norm (her dad) left for good when she was 18 months old. We lived in Richmond in the same housing co-op for another year. (I was president of the board... seems like another lifetime ago when I was an egomaniac...) Then we moved to Sidney and I went to UVic to finish my degree.

Our life together flowed so well. She went to an amazing daycare - Discovery House when it very first opened. (Now it is still a daycare but it is also a private primary school - all built in two heritage homes near the ocean.) I went to university. I studied while she played in the park. We went for walks down to the ocean which was 5 minutes from our duplex. We had a big yard and great neighbours. It was just easy being together. She was such a great kid. We lived in such a beautiful spot and we were happy. Life was pretty simple then and I have always looked back on those times as some of the best in my life.

And she is a big part of it. I was contented and settled being her mom. And she was happy, too. Of course we still had our challenges and our unhappy times but mostly I remember this time as being easy, as flowing naturally.

Here we are in Victoria. This is one of those silly pictures that Laura liked to take at the time. I think she insisted that I stick my finger like that so it looked like I was picking my nose. Those are the parliament buildings in the back ground. What I love most about this picture is Erin cuddled up to the back of my head...

And here she is dressed up for Halloween. She made that hat herself.... Doesn't she look fun to live with?

The Process

Well, this last few days have really confirmed to me again how important it is just to acknowledge our feelings without judgement and sometimes without even understanding. I believe it was Scott M. Peck in his book "The Road Less Travelled" who said that neurosis is the avoidance of legitimate suffering" - basically denial.

Before I realized and acknowledged what I was feeling, I was heavy with feeling 'blah'; unable to get excited about anything; procrastinating important things; restless, bored and tired. Once I finally faced my grief and fear, it felt like a backpack full of rocks had been lifted off my back. Once I allowed myself to be sad, I could once again be joyful and happy and passionate about my life again. When we repress uncomfortable feelings, we also repress all the 'good' ones, too. Once I allowed myself to be sad about Erin going, I learned a lot about myself. Most of my emotion was really about myself - about my own feelings about my relationship (or lack of relationship) with my own mother in my 20's. Once I allowed myself to really feel my feelings, sit with them, acknowledge them, talk about them, I could aslo genuinely feel happy for her and so very proud of her and more at ease about her going.

And I am amazed again at this experience of being human that drives us towards integrity. I am in awe again that it is really true, "feelings aren't good or bad, they just are".

My Constant Companion

I must be feeling better. I was awakened at 3:30am by fighting cats. (Damn! Why didn't I remember to put Tigger in the basement last night...) There is this male black cat who likes to fight with Tigger. I think he is ferral as no one seems to own him. He apparantly likes our yard and Tigger has to constantly establish his territory. And Tigger as never been a pushover... Anyways, after awaking so early, I tried to go back to sleep for about 2 hours and I might have dozed off for a bit. Finally I gave up and got up. I am full of energy. And as I sat here at the computer, I noticed how dirty the window was so I got out the equipment and washed it inside and out. Now it is beautiful. That is something that I haven't found the energy for lately - living in the moment because I have been too strangled by the depth of feeling in my moments. Lately I have been stymied. Something has shifted. I am still sad but at least I don't want to sleep all the time. So thank you all to listening. It helps! And thank you Katie and Mary Sue for your kind words.

Here is one of my favourite pictures of Erin and I. (see, I really did once have brown hair. I was never blonde...) I have realized that behind my pain, is fear. It is expressed beautifully here in Maristar's blog - http://maristar.blogspot.com/2006/04/how-well-do-you-really-know-your.html

How well do you really know your mother... or your daughter for that matter. I know that Erin is growing and individuating just as she needs to do. I know she needs privacy and a space of her own to be herself beyond my influence. Here she is on October 18, 1987, her first birthday taking her first steps. Walking away from me. Finding her own strength.

I know that all of this is good. But my fear is that I will not know her and that she will not know me. I don't think I know my own mother very well. Maybe I am getting some insight into her as I grow and mature and learn about myself. And I certainly feel that she does not know me. I know she loves me, that is not it. I just think that she doesn't know me, doesn't understand me. And we have never been close. Not since I left home. It terrifies me to think that all the closeness I am going to have with Erin is over. She is my daughter, heart of my heart. I want to know her and be known by her.



There was a time when she wanted this, too! (and I know she still wants it - just in a different way...) She is reaching for me in this picture as I capture her look with the camera. Once she was my constant companion. I was only 21 when I had her and about as mature as any 21 year old ever is. I think I was a bit of a selfish mother. I wasn't as baby-centred as I was with later children. I took her with me everywhere. We were seldom parted. I wish I had heard of a 'sling' back then. She practically grew out of my hip. I loved having her with me. I do wish that I could have thought more about her needs than my own...

More about Erin tomorrow or the day after that...

More about my Breaking Heart

Here is a pastel drawing of my heart yesterday. I feel so much better after writing about how I was feeling - after realizing how I was feeling about her leaving. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. Wandering around my house, not feeling like doing anything at all, restless and tired. Tired even when I got 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. There is some deep, primitive part of myself who really would just like to go to sleep and completely ignore that my daughter is moving 1000's of miles away. The pain of her leaving is just too great.

I have these weird thoughts. Like when I held my daughters in my arms at their birth, I was always overwhelmed at the thought that all the little ovum that would become their children were already inside them. It is like standing in the river of life - generations gone before and generations yet to come - like looking in two mirrors when you can see forever. In this way, I have thought of my children as always being with me. If one of them asks, was I there, then - asking about some memory I am sharing. If they weren't born yet, I will say, "yes, but you were just a little egg in my ovary". And Erin was in my heart for a long time before she was even growing within me. I dreamed of being a mother. I planned. I looked forward. I took parenting classes at University while I was still single. I dreamed of her. It has been far more than only 20 years that she has lived in my heart.

Here she is in the hospital in the arms of her older sister (I hate the term 1/2 sister - how can one be 1/2 a sister? They love each other. They are sisters. But Sarah has a different mother...) Sarah was so excited to have a little sister and she loved her instantly. This is one of my favourite pictures.
















Once she was so small she could fit on a little cushion for the arm rest of the couch. This was her Dad's couch and he took it with him when he moved out. But a friend who was moving a couple of years ago, offered me an old couch - almost exactly the same as this one (it has yellow and gold stripes). I took it and gave it to Erin because of this picture.







Here she is at 3 months old, hanging in the jolly jumper. She never did jump in that thing but she learned to swing herself... She liked to hang there and watch me in the kitchen. She was my constant companion and needed to be with me all the time.

I have always said that Erin has a very brave soul. By entering my life, she saved me and then I, in turn, saved her. At that time, I did not care enough about myself to get out of the abusive situation I was in. But I cared enough for her to leave. I could not bear for her to grow up to feel about me the way I felt about my mother. And I could not bear for her to have the idea she would have had if I had stayed, of what being a wife and mother is. I wanted better than that for her. And so I got out. She was a huge catalyst on my healing path. Our life together has not been easy. We have been through some pretty tough times together and I will always wish that I could have given her an easier childhood. She gave me a great gift by being born at that difficult and unhappy time. I will always be grateful.

Get set to hear lots about Erin. Its what I need to do!

Hurting Heart

I have been in a funk. It has been mystifying to me. And it has been a big funk - akin to the funk when I first left Erin's dad and I only wanted to sleep all the time. There is this big, unavoidable thing happening in my life and I can't stop it - shouldn't stop it, anyways. Erin is moving to Montreal to attend LaSalle's Fashion Design program. It is only weeks away now. That's so far away it is doubtful she will be home for Christmas or even next summer. My baby. My piece of my heart. I hate to think of life going on - my life and her life - going on so far apart. Some part of me cries, "what if I never see her again? What if something happens to her? How would I find out?"

She's excited and scared as she should be. And she has it all worked out. A month from now she will be living in Montreal. They are leaving August 9th. Everything piled into her car. I can scarcely bare it. Of course it is inevitable as soon as they start to grow within us - one day they will leave. It was hard enough when she moved to her own apartment but to think of her across the country, weighs on me like a lead heart. Of course I am happy for her, excited for her and so proud of her for making her dreams come true. But for me.... to think of her not being embedded in the context of my life....

Dean would say that I am being dramatic. I will be able to phone her whenever I want, right? We'll e-mail.... But still she will be on the other side of the continent. She won't be dropping by to bug me by doing her laundry after 10pm at night. She won't be here for supper every now and then. She won't be critisizing my clothing. She'll be gone.

And it all swims before me. Her birth, her babyhood. Her at 2, riding a tricycle, getting on the bus to go to kindergarten (while I drove to meet her at the other end), homeschooling hours spent together. Her amazing mind. Her incredible voice. She always sang - she used to sing herself to sleep in her crib. Then I remember when she found her power in her voice. Her talented, creative ways. My wonderful, beautiful daughter. All those moments I swore to myself to never forget - I see them. The way she used to say 'conchterble' for comfortable and the way I would get her to cheer for me when I got good grades at UVic. The way she wouldn't let me put her down when she was a baby and I learned how to vacuum with the snugli or the back pack on. Back and forth my memory goes through our life together. It is every mother's pain, this pain. Of course I brought her into this world to grow to be her own person. This is a tearing of my soul as surely as her birth was a trauma to my body. And not a trauma I would stop but I grieve. Beyond words. How do you say that? I want her to grow up and be her own person but I am so sad that she is? Of course I would be more worried if she wasn't.

30 Day Challenge Update 2

Well, it has been 2 weeks of my 30 day challenge. Let's see. I bought some shoe goo and glued my sandal back together. Thanks to the advice in my tagboard, I am going to let them sit before using them for the maximum suggested 72 hours. 2 more days without my sandals... Today I wore Laura's clogs and got blisters on the top of my foot from walking down the railroad tracks (after taking the bus home). I guess they are not a good long distance walking shoe... Other than that, I have been enjoying it. I've spent more money at the Farmer's Market than I would usually and it makes me wonder why I don't do that more often.

I have one day left of my dance workshop. I have 5 girls attending and we are having a lot of fun. At least I am really enjoying it. We are studying dance. On Monday I brought in my video of Baryshnikov dancing the nutcracker. I thought we would just watch a little of it but they loved it and we ended up watching he whole thing. Then they were trying to jump like Baryshnikov for the rest of our dancing time. Today we studied jazz and I had a guest instructor come in. She was a beautiful, tall young woman with a graceful, dancer's way. But she just led them through a series of exercises and didn't really give them a taste of jazz. I wish Kyle was closer so he could have come and helped me out. We did use jazz type music for the rest of our dancing activities and I tried to be jazzy myself... I couldn't get a guest instructor for tomorrow so I have several different videos of different kinds of dance. We'll have to make do with those. Hopefully that will be better, anyways.

30 Day Challenge Update 1

So, how are you doing on the 30 Day Callenge? So far I have managed. I almost forgot and went to Subway on my birthday for beach food but luckily didn't feel like eating so much bread. (whew! I remembered later that Subway is a CHAIN!). We went to Kal Lake Store instead and got wraps. They were pretty darn good, too. I got the Thai chicken salad one.

I had a close call on Sunday night, too. Kaetlyn needed new batteries for her insulin pump and more insulin. The little pharmacy we usually go to (Hogarth's Pharmacy) which has superior service and the best prices, anyways, is not opened on the week end. In fact the only place that is open that sells insulin and batteries at the late hour she told me she needed them was Superstore. So I bought them at Superstore. I figured for diabetes I could make an exception. Although, this Friday I will make sure that I get some before Hogarth's closes in case she runs out on the week end again. What did diabetics do in the old days when everything was closed on the week end? Did you get to keep your pharmacists home number? Go to the hospital? Or did people live more organized lives and just never did something as stupid as running out of insulin on the week end...

I have yet to replace my broken favourite sandals. I am wondering about trying to fix them instead. Buy some of that shoe goop and glue the soul back together. I do love those sandals... I've just never heard of shoe goop really working on sandals... I did check out a small shop on main street (Vernon Shoes) but the only sandals they had in my size cost more than $100...

I have made some pleasant discoveries. Like Super A Foods in Polson Mall has delicious freshly grated Parmesan (and it really is freshly grated) and they sell it for only $2 a container. It was really, really good on top of my zucchini. I'm really enjoying my 30 day challenge... maybe I'll extend it. How about you?

Zucchini

Well, my zucchini plant has recovered and I picked a nice, big zucchini the other day. And last night we ate it for supper. I have this most delicious zucchini recipe.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Then cut the Zucchini in half length-wise. Slit down the middle. Spread butter thickly over the cut side of the zucchini and sprinkle liberally with oregano (fresh or dried) and bake on a cookie sheet. When the zucchini starts to be tender (length of time depends on the size of the zucchini) remove from oven and sprinkle liberally with parmesan cheese. (if using fresh oregano, add some more of that at this time as well.) Return to oven and bake until cheese is melted and starting to get toasty. Slice across the zucchini and serve.

Everyone, including my kids, loves zucchini cooked in this way. We even like it cold. With spaghetti, it replaces garlic bread in the meal. Last night we had it with cold chicken roasted in lemon. Mmmmmm, yummy! I'm going to go eat the last piece....

Interior Pics

So here are some pictures from the inside of my house. Of course, you would get a much better view if you actually came to visit me....

Here is my bedroom. Notice the hammer on the bed? (really, its not for Dean, its because I just finished hanging some more pictures on the wall...honest) And this is another view of my room - I have windows on two walls - great breeze on hot summer nights... (probably a draft on cold winter nights...)















Here is Rhiannon's room - still decorated for the 9 year old boy who lived here before in spider man style.... We'll paint eventually... She loves her skylight.
















Here's Kaetlyn's room which is really the masterbedroom - there's just as much room behind me as there is in front.












And here is the view from the bathroom window. If you lay in the huge claw foot tub and look outside, this is what you see. It's particularly gorgeous just as the sun is setting with no lights on in the bathroom. You'll have to try it when you come to visit.









And this is the beginning of what is going to be a really great room - there are windows on three sides of the room. It is a kind of library/homeschooling room - there is a table where we can leave our crafts out or my sewing projects. Right now it is mostly stuffed with junk and boxes that have not yet been unpacked... But you can get an idea from this corner, of what it will be like in the end, right?

There is Only One Person To Forgive

So last year when I was preparing for my 40th birthday and a new decade, my wise friend, Bozenka suggested that I make a list of all the offenses that I hold and forgive them and let them go. She made sure I included myself. I made lists and burned candles and meditated and prayed and forgave. But the lesson was germinating yet in me. The ones I had the hardest forgiving were those people who had hurt my children. Like the couple who wouldn't let their daughter who was Erin's best friend, play with her after Phil and I separated because they didn't approve. Erin was devastated and as they were apart of our homeschooling group and in the same dance classes and choir, etc., Erin became very isolated and sad. I had the hardest time forgiving them. My wise friend pointed out to me that it was because I couldn't forgive myself... Although intellectually I could accept this (kind of) I didn't really understand it or feel it all the way through.

This year, just before my birthday, I had a jarring experience with my dad and one of my sisters who is going through a difficult time. She had arranged to come and visit it me on her trip. But her trip has been pretty....eventful, shall we say. She was calling me often and asking for my support as she was going through all these things. Despite changes she was still planning on coming to see me and I was really looking forward to it - to seeing her, to hugging her and pampering her and letting her have a little, loving break from all the chaos and judgement in her world. But my dad didn't want her to visit me and so pressured her and pressured her until he had her convinced that visiting me was a mistake because I am no longer a mormon and that I would pressure her to also leave the church (or stay away would be more accurate). And so cancelled her visit with me. Along with feeling sad/disappointed/hurt/misunderstood about that, it also affected Kaetlyn who was visiting and who had cancelled her flight home so she could drive home with my sister. And no one even told Kaetlyn about the change of plans but she overheard others talking about it and called me, whispering into the phone at 11:30pm. Luckily her dad was able to re-book her flight and she will be home tomorrow evening as planned (Yay!)

I was very upset. Upset that my 15 year old daughter was there and I was not even trusted to have my 27 year old sister for a visit. Upset that she let others convince her of what I am like when she knows differently (because I don't care whether she is a mormon or not, married to a controlling jerk or not, I just care that she is my sister and I love her and she knows that). Upset to be so judged. Upset to see such a negative view of myself reflected from my own father. And hurt. So, on the eve of my birthday, I was again making a list of forgiveness. This time I started with myself. And the list was long. And then I started on my dad but the list petered out. And I never got to anyone else. This morning when I woke up and resumed my journal working, I finally realized the lesson of this year. There is only one person to forgive. Me. When I forgive myself, everything else just slips away. Now irrelevant. Just like with the parents of Erin's former best friend. I was able to forgive them when I was finally able to forgive myself for the breakdown of my marriage and how that affected my children. When I forgive myself and love myself, my father's opinion of me doesn't matter. It is about him, not me. Just as my judgements of others are really about myself.

So my year of being '40' is over and the lesson has really sunk in. I get it - all the way through. There is only one person to forgive. Ever. Just myself. And I do. Today, I fogive myself. One day, maybe I won't even judge myself and then there won't even be anything left to forgive...

30 Day Challenge

Inspired by my socially and environmentally conscious friends, I am challenging myself for 30 days to not purchase anything from a chain store. So, no Save On, no Safeway, no Wendys, no Wholesale Club, no Coopers, no Boston Pizza (can you tell I'm thinking about food?) no Zellers, no Bay, no Wal-Mart. I will allow 2 exceptions. One is that I am going to continue to buy my gas from Husky/Mohawk. And the other is that I will allow chains that are only valley wide - like Quality Greens and Nature's Fare. Could you do it?

So, why would I challenge myself in this way? Well, because ethically, I don't agree with the large chain stores. Generally they don't pay their employees a living wage, have all part time employees, sell goods that are made unethically in third world countries, sell american produce during our growing season here, sell cheap american apples all year round instead of supporting local orchards even when that would actually be cheaper for them (and I think they should do it anyways - even when it costs more). And even all those issues aside, when I spend my dollars at these large chain stores, I am helping to make a few people who do not even live in this community and often not even in this country, very rich. Another issue is the fossil fuels that are used to ship all that stuff so far away and the pollution that causes as well. I think that for the most part, we live in ignorance of the true cost of our lifestyle on the environment and consequently on our health. The longer we blunder along in this unsupportable manner, the worse it gets. Something has got to give.

In contrast, when I spend my dollars on local stores, I am supporting local people. I am helping local people to make a living. When I shop at local farm markets, I am helping local farmers directly and I am getting produce that is fresher and better for us that didn't have to travel very far. So, for the next 30 days, I will not set foot in a chain store... I am very interested in how this is going to go. What about you?

Happy Anniversary

(And happy anniversary to you, too, Sarah and Kyle!). So there we are 7 years ago. July 3, 1999. Getting married. I love the picture - the large granite boulders up on the hill on Coldstream Ranch - so symbolic to me.

So I don't know what to say about that that isn't corny or cliche or sentimental. I think relationships are the hardest work there is (for me, anyways). Finding a way to live authentically AND respect what is authentic in the other. To be understanding, kind and gentle with yourself AND be understanding, kind and gentle with the other. I am grateful to Dean, to my husband, for entering in to this contract with me. For the good times and for the tenacity to keep working through the times that aren't so good. I admire his willingness to look at himself in ways that he never thought he would have to and for supporting me and continuing to love me as I face things in myself.. The dependability of his love, his loyalty, the tenderness of his heart and his kindness to me - these are the gifts he offers me - for these I am the most grateful.

The Appeal of Polygyny

Did you know that the mormons did not practise polygamy? No. It was polygyny. Polygamy only means plural spouse and there was deffinitley no plural husbands going around. Polygyny means plural wives. And that is what the mormons did. Okay there is your sociology lesson for the day.

My good friend is here from Calgary. I always love our visits whether it is me visiting her or her visiting me. One of the things that I enjoy so much is just how easy household chores become. We just work together so well all the while chatting and laughing. We decide what to eat, we make it together. We make sure that we each get rest. We look after eachother's children. It just flows without a lot of effort. I love it. In these moments I can understand the appeal of polygyny. Not that I want to share my husband. But I can believe that there were some women - plural wives of the same man - who were devasted and heartbroken to be split up.

I suppose it doesn't mean that will happen everytime. My own great-great-grandmother - Jeremiah Hatch's second wife of 3 (the first one died before he married my ancestress so she was 1 of 2 wives). Aurilla Bard Hadlock didn't seem to harbour any great affection for the other wife. When the practise of polygyny ended in Utah, she was outta there with her kids and didn't look back.

But right now, I have am filled up with talking about myself and about my friend and our children and our lives. My kitchen is spotless. Our children are playing happily together. And I understand the appeal...

Smells

Did you know that your olfactory sense is the only one of your senses that goes directly to the brain. For example the information you take in from your eye goes through the optic nerve and the information you take in with your ears likewise. But what you smell goes directly to your brain. That is why in an instant, a smell can bring to the surface sharp memories long forgotten.

Tonight when I went with Andrew to Kal beach for what has become our nightly ritual in this hot weather, there was the smell of woodsmoke in the air (must be a forest fire somewhere). It was a distinct smell - not the usual, easy-to-light cedar of campgrounds but a different kind of wood. Pine, maybe? Spruce? I don't know. But the smell instantly brought back to me my childhood in Prince George. Specifically weiner roasts in Fort George Park back when you used to be able to do that. And suddenly the whole panaorama of Fort George Park opened up in my minds eye - the water park, the white tire teeter totter that Doug and I loved to bounce each other on, the old fashioned fire truck sunk into concrete, the acres of green grass where we played touch football and the chain fences. All there in my mind, in an instant, standing up to my knees in lake water at Kal beach.

The smell of lake water brings back many layers of memory. The ocean was an exotic destination, much sought after but visited only rarely. Lakes were our family's playground in the summer. Bear Lake, Ness Lake, 6 Mile Lake, Jim Smith Lake, Wasa Lake, Lakelse. We spent many sunny days at the beach. So many hot evenings Dad got home from work, we grabbed a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken or Mom had the cooler packed with all the stuff for weiner roasts and we headed to the beach. I can remember those northern summer evenings that went on forever. I love the beach. I love the little escape from all the presses of daily life - the closeness of our family as we played together. And I love how it has continued into my own family. The beach is one place we still all play together. Mud fights at Jade Bay - I laugh as the mud Kaetlyn plopped on Dean's bald head slides down. We dive and cavort and rest and just be together.

Ah the memories of smells...

Another Night or Torture

Nevermind that it was 35 degrees yesterday and my house has East/West exposure (well actually this house as E/W and S/N exposure...). Okay, nevermind that it was 35 degrees and I live in a freaking glass house and it only cooled off to 17 degrees by 6am which means that for most of the night it was above 20 degrees...(see the last 24 hours http://www.theweathernetwork.com/weather/24h/pages/WJV.htm?CABC0312 ) Never mind the heat. Nevermind that I rode my bike into Vernon and then all over downtown handing out brochures and then home again in the heat of the day. Nevermind the physical exhaustion. I took Rhiannon down to Kal beach and swam at 10pm until we were deliciously cool. We came home and flopped into bed, happy and refreshed - read 2 chapter of James and the Giant Peach and we both fell quickly to sleep in our respective beds.

At 1:30 she woke me up, knocking on my door. She kept calling me - usually just as I was drifting into dreamland. Again and again and again until 3am when the sky was lightening and I threatened to sleep in the van in some shady spot far away from here.... Everyone was awake by then - Drew and Dean, too. Finally, she went back to sleep.

At 5:00am she is insisting that it is morning and she is getting up. At this point I am sleeping on the couch in hopes that Dean who has to work all day in the boiling sun will be able to get some sleep. There is some crying and yelling (on her part, although I felt like it) as I put her back to bed AGAIN! She slept then until 8am.

So today I am a slug. I blob. I had deep thoughts stirring in my brain I wanted to share on my blog but I can hardly string two sentences together. My fingers and toes are the size of sausages. My house desperately needs cleaning and my best friend is taking the all night bus to be here first thing tomorrow morning.... It is not a day I can slack off.

So my plan? Turn on good music and work like a tired maniac all morning and then sleep in the afternoon. Rhiannon has a violin lesson this afternoon at 4pm at the music school which means a bike ride in the stifling heat of the late afternoon and a big hill. Can I do it? Well, that remains to be seen.

This is Andrea with fingers and toes the size of sausages, and who is finding it impossible to sit up straight for any amount of time, signing off. I am sure there are several spelling/gramatical errors. My apologies... (as my head droops and hits the keyboard...) I'll correct them after my nap...

New Family Members of the Feline Variety

Well, of course Sheeba can never be replaced. We still miss her black, soft, silky affection. But this is not a place where we are prepared to live without a cat. When Sheeba went missing, we were already in the midst of looking for another outdoor cat to help Tigger with the incredible rodent population. We ended up getting a grey female kitten from the same farm we got Tigger - although no relation to Tigger - guarnateed to be a mouser. She is Andrew's kitten and her name is Delila. Or DillyDilly.

Then a week after that, we went to the SPCA (where we got Sheeba) in search of another black kitten or young cat. There was a huge litter of 10 black kittens. Rhiannon picked out the blackest one. She has a sweet scrunched up face. Rhiannon named her Coppelia (and no, that wasn't my idea... I wanted to name her Brita) We've had them for a couple of weeks now. They were both 8 weeks old when we got them.

So, here they are...


This is Coppelia




















Here they are wrapped up together on Kaetlyn's bed...













And here is Delila - doesn't she look like a lean, mean mouse-killing machine here? If I was a mouse, I'd be afraid...

Blessed - The Legacy of Love

I am home from 4 days of camping with my homeschooling group. It is the middle of the afternoon and I am about to fall into the soft, clean coolness of my bed. But before I do, my heart is so full, I want to express it. I just camped with 10 other amazing women and their children. I am covered in mosquito bites; I got maybe 15 minutes of sleeping between the late, late night talk of boys and school and Rhiannon vomitting twice and being freezing last night but I am so recharged. I am happy and at peace. I am full.

It was camping days of nothing and of everything. We ate together, played and talked together - all kinds of things from metaphysics to homeschooling to how children learn to read to how boys are treated in the school system and in our culture to mosquitos to religion. I sat on the beach covered in deet. My children played. Rhiannon played in big groups and small groups. She played with the girls and she played with the boys. Andrew connected with girls and boys younger than him of all different ages. He rode his bike; he went for walks; he went to the store; he ran around screaming and chasing. He sat on the beach with his friends and he fit in perfectly. Kaetlyn came after her exams on Wednesday and she connected with another older sister who also goes to school. We just fit in. And it was so easy. Perhaps it was not so easy for others but it was easy for me.

I feel such acceptance and understanding in this group of women. I am so grateful for them in my life. Amongst them I feel more often than anywhere else that I am seen for who I am - all the complexities of me. I feel like it is ok to be me. So I come home tired and mosquito bitten with vomit on sleeping bags and my soul is full to the brim. I am filled up with validation and encouragement and acceptance. I know that my children are okay. That my family is okay. That we are doing all right. That I have something to contribute that is worthwhile and something to receive that I really need. And feeling so accepted and validated and valued myself, I look at my children and I see how wonderful and beautiful and incredible they are. I am refreshed in my efforts with them. My energy is renewed. In fact, I am renewed and hopeful about many things. I feel more detirmined to do my bit for the environment, to speak up about local produce, to support local agriculture, to eat better, to be better... What a gift.

As my 41st birthday nears and another year has gone past I see what a magic has been in my life this year. It started with the bike hike with my sisters around Salt Spring Island - another wonderful connecting - and it ends here with another camping trip with my soul sisters. I have spent a lot of my life feeling isolated and alone. No more. I have worked hard at finding a real community for myself and my family and I feel so blessed, so very grateful to have found it - to be a part of it - to feel it around me and under me, supporting me and accepting my support.

Put Back Together Again

Today is an anniversary for me of a miracle. On May 13, 2001, I broke both my tibial plateaux. (see archives for May - Grateful). The year after that accident was a very difficult one as I struggled to realize what this meant to the rest of my life. My left tibial plateau was only cracked and healed perfectly (although there is still a screw in there somewhere that I can feel once in a while...). My right tibial plateau was crushed, my cartlidge (sp?) demolished and jagged pieces of my tibial plateau pushed down into my tibia. (This is a picture of a tibial plateau. Your tibia is your shin bone. The tibial plateau is the flat part at your knee where it meets up with your femur from your thigh. The small bone is the fibula.) My surgeon didn't know what to do. He sent me to a knee specialist in Calgary at the Foothills Hospital. That was very discouraging. He told me that there was nothing to be done to fix my knee. He asked me if I could work and look after my family and of course, I could (you can do those things from a wheel chair!). And that was that.

In the meantime, my tibial plateau was depressed by .8 cm. on the one side. Every step was painful and my leg below the knee veered out by 23 degrees. I couldn't walk long distances; I couldn't run; even dancing was painful. With all of my x-rays and cat scans in hand, right after Calgary, I went tearfully to my physio therapist, Kees Husken. This was the first time he had seen all my x-rays (because Surgeons don't cooperate very well with phyios). He looked at them all and explained to me why all their ideas wouldn't work. Then he told me about a rare procedure. A tibial plateau transplant.... I took all the information to my surgeon. Of course, he knew about it... (I still don't know why he didn't recommend it). He referred me for the procedure. The procedure is only done in Toronto by the Dr Gross out of Mt Sianai Hospital. He pioneered the procedure and every Dr who does it anywhere in the world, learned from him.

This procedure involves someone who has died and donated their body for organ transplants. Then it has to match for sex and height and build. Donors have to be clean living and under the age of 30. Then, within a week of death, a piece of their tibial plateau is cut out and my damaged piece of plateau is cut out. Hers is put in. Her cartlidge is sewn over top. Normally people have to wait years for a match. I got a call within months of being referred (before they even had all my paper work). This little piece of bone acts as a template for my own bone to grow into. I would have to be non-weightbearing for 1 year while my bone did this amazing thing...

On June 17, 2002 - only a year and a month after my original injury, Dr Gross transplanted someone's tibial plateau into my knee. He is a very kind man and I will always be grateful to him and his social worker who took the time to talk to me and get to know me. My procedure was actually televised to a confrence on cartlidge transplantation happening in Toronto... I had flown alone to Toronto. Friends of Dean's who had never met me came to visit me. I was in the hospital for 9 days until the agonizing flight home and the year of my recovery began (but that is another story for another post sometime). I am so grateful to be a Canadian. Our medical system may have its problems but it worked for me when it really mattered. I can walk again because of my physio-therapist and Dr. Gross. I will never forget them for believing in my life and understanding the importance of mobility to even a 35 year old woman. Everytime I dance, as I slowly re-learn how to jog and run, as I skip with my dance class, as go for long hikes, I remember the miracle. Thank you!

Beautiful Dancers

Tonight was the dance recital for my little dance class. They were beautiful. It was an amazing performance and I was so proud of them. And it was truly in 'creative movement' style. In class we have spent lots of time doing free dancing - listening to music, thinking about it, interpretting it. And our recital was just like that. I let them pick what character they wanted to be and then Bozenka and I created the story (mostly Bozenka - I just came up with the outline) from the characters they chose (1 princess, 1 tiger and 5 fairies). I spent many hours coming up with the music and getting it all burned onto one CD. Today I was at the school from 12:30 on, setting it up and decorating. Two of the moms, my friends, came and helped me 'magic-ify' the room. It was beautiful. I brought lamps from home to get rid of the gross overhead lighting and make it feel more like a stage. Bozenka came and read the story. It was so magical. They danced out a whole story - a total of 9 dances - it took about 30 minutes. My 7 little dancers were magificent. They improvised on the spot.

My philosophy about dance is that dancing for most is a natural out-pouring. And young children don't need someone to tell them what to do or how to dance. Left to their own creativity, they made an amazing dance. For me to tell them to do what they did naturally, it would have taken months of rehearsals and all the fun would have been out of it. I feel so priviledged to have been a small part of their dancing.

Homeschooling with SelfDesign

This year has been a most awesome year for us in homeschooling. This would be my 8th year homeschooling and I think I have finally got it right. (I homeschooled Erin and Kaetlyn for 4 years and this is mine and Andrew's 4th). I have tried many different approaches and found different kinds of support and it has never really fit very well. Or I have just done my own thing but then I have been left alone with my own doubts and sporadic impuses. And always, no matter where I was registered or not registered over the years, there was never really support for me. But I have had awesome support this year. The support I have received from my Learning Consultant has enabled me to better support Andrew. He has made important connections with other kids like him in the'village' and found great adult mentors, too. He is a transformed boy. It has been good for Rhiannon, too but it has been more dramatic for Andrew. I find the Observing for Learning (O4L) reporting process very meaningful and it really helps me find a balance of discipline while still allowing the natural flow of learning to go on. Sometimes I just get so caught up in daily life and I tend to focus on the future, it has been really useful to reflect on what has been going on. And it has been useful when I am afraid nothing is going on, too... I could not say enough good things about SelfDesign. They have just opened up for enrolment to the general public today. Following is their message. If you haven't already checked out SelfDesign, I highly recommend it.


About SelfDesign Learning Community

• The purpose and praxis of SelfDesign – We exist as a independent community (in the eyes of the ministry, a certified group 1 school) to support the emergent, holistic learning of children ages 5 – 14 years. We advocate the rights of learners to design their own learning plans, which becomes a child’s curriculum for the year. Our work is aligned with many noted holistic educators, academics and philosophers and the insights on multiple intelligences pioneered by Harvard professor Howard Gardner. Our praxis of supporting emergent learning and our Village of Conversations are unique in the province.

We do not, and will not, coerce a child to learn. We are convinced that a curriculum that emerges from interest and meaning is 'real' for each child.

The Ministry of Education has constructed its rules and regulations around educators teaching children to meet prescribed learning outcomes. We are focused on learning, on a child's natural enthusiasm to understand his or her world. Our position is that children learning naturally will, over time, achieve and exceed the criteria set by the Ministry about what it means to be an educated person. Our consistent and regular Observing for Learning allows us to prove that our learners achieve equivalent or better results than children in 'taught' environments. Our Learning Consultants work with the learner and family to support the learner's plan.

Many endorsements of SelfDesign may be found on our website Our program has historically served the independent learner, many of whom naturally tend to 'think outside the box'. Children who ask bigger questions and children who have a deep sense of purpose and interest.

If families are interested in learning more about our program or if you wish to enrol, please visit www.selfdesign.org

Spider Bite

Well, on Friday sometime during my feverish work on the Inner World School brochure, a bloodthirsty spider feasted on my bum. Yes, I have a collection of spider bites on my rear end. A rather large and sore collection. It must have bit me 4 - 6 (can't quite see well enough to count...) times all in the same place. My glands in my hip joint on the same side of my body swelled up to about the size of a squishy golf ball. Now the glands in my neck on the same side are also swollen so that my right ear hurts as well. Today it is just barely getting to the itchy stage but hurts to be itched. I've been applying tea tree oil and aloe vera gel. I don't really know if it is helping or not. So there you have it. What a place to get a spider bite!

Things That Make Me Smile

Today was a smiley day. The thing that made me smile the most was playing with this. This week I bought myself something I have wanted for a looooong time. I first saw one of these 'trail bikes' when Kaetlyn was Rhiannon's size and I thought how fun that would be.... and then she was too big. And then I thought it would be fun to do with Andrew.... and then he got to big. So this week before Rhiannon got any bigger and as a reward for all that window washing, I bought myself one of these. Mine is midnight blue to match my bike (only I couldn't find a picture of a blue one). Today Rhiannon and I went for a long (well, way longer than she could have done on her own) bike ride. She was so absolutely enthusiastic about the whole experience. She couldn't believe how far she had ridden. And she pedals and it really does help going up hills. We rode all the way to Kal Lake Store (no idea how far that is - 5 minute car ride?) to get some buns for supper. It smelled so good out and the lake was beautiful and dramatic with waves lashing the shore as we spun on by and we were both so happy. I was right. It really is a lot of fun! I highly recommend it. We are going to be using that a lot! No more bus rides for us!

Here is another thing that made me laugh today. While in Kal Lake Store, I went up to the dairy cooler to get some whipping cream. As I came up to the cooler there was a woman about my age standing in front of me. Just as I came up, she let out a looong, loud, unmistakable sound. Yup, she passed wind. And then startled and embarrassed to know that I was right there, she jumped and ran out of the store. I laughed about that one all the way home. Why are we so embarrassed about natural bodily functions?

It was a happy day, a lighthearted day. And this song was going through my head... A song is a wonderful kind of thing, so lift up your voice and sing. Just start a glad tune let it float let it ring and lift up your voice and sing...

Worry

So, I am a person with very tight shoulders. I carry all my worry there. And really, I have been realizing lately, I worry a lot. Not that I think that I speak of my worries a lot to others but mostly I carry it all inside - and in my shoulders. I worry about my family. I worry for my husband and our relationship. I worry for my daughters, for my son, for how well I do as a parent. I worry. I worry about Erin going to Montreal. I worry about how she is going to get there and how she will live when she is there. I worry. I have just been realizing how very much I actually do worry. Maybe it is because I am such a strong person and I always find a way to make it work for myself and I worry for my husband and my children that they will give up too early and I want to do it for them but know that I can't. And so I worry more...

So anyways, my good friend Bozenka and I worked on the summer brochure for the Inner World School until late in the night. Then I had to drive her the 45 minutes out to her house. On the quiet way home after midnight in the dark, I was concentrating on breathing deeply and letting go of all the worry and strain that was pressing on me and trusting that everything is as it needs to be and my family has their own lessons to learn and they are strong and they will figure it out in their own way and in their own time. I don't have to be strong for everyone. I can't anyways... I was focussing on loving myself and really letting that in and sweep over my shoulders and down my back.

Then I felt hands lightly on my shoulders and a voice said, "you have no need of this" and I knew it meant all the worry and stress I have taken on myself. I knew that I was loved and that I was in hands far bigger than my own and that Dean, Erin, Kaetlyn, Drew and Rhiannon were also in these hands and indeed, "the world is unfolding as it should". Because there is no other way. And I cried. I drove along highway 97, crying and releasing all that worry that serves no purpose but to weigh me down and contaminate my relationships. It was a wonderful drive!

And Rhiannon has slept through the last 2 nights! Now that was a good sleep!

Graduation

Today my friend graduated from UBC Okanagan (I'm sorry but UBC-O just sounds like part of an Old McDonald song or 'An old black dog sat on the back porch and ...'). I went to watch her receive her degree. I was so proud of her and many times tears were in my eyes and on my cheeks. I never attended my own graduation. I finished my last class August 19 and the grad ceremonies at UVic were not until November. By then I was living half a continent away in Winnipeg. So today, I walked through the auditorium with her, too, in spirit.

My friend looked so radient, so happy, so proud of her accomplishment. And I know what an accomplishment it was for her - the determination and the will. I have known her since a lifetime ago when I was 17 and we were both living in PG. I left PG a couple of years later but our paths crossed again here in the Okanagan. I feel that she is my soul sister - we have a connection like family - always there somewhere in the backgrounds of each other lives, able to confide in each other what is real in our lives. We have worked together in many different capacities and although our personalities are very different (like completely opposite) we always work well together because we have such respect for each other. She has been a real gift in my life. A sister and friend, working for the same goals whose faithfulness I know I can trust. I admire her and it was such a priviledge to be there today and share in this wonderful celebration with her and bask a little in her glow. Wow... It brings tears to my eyes still to remember the pure glow on her face as she walked through the auditorium. She DID it! Congratulations!

Rhiannon drew this picture for me today. This is an angry elephant. He is angry because he is hungry. The thing on his back is a chair for someone to sit in and the little happy face is someone waiting to jump into the chair as he goes by.

Still no Sheeba. We are slowly adjusting to life without her. A week ago, if I were typing on the computer like this she would be laying across the back of the computer chair like a fur blanket - flattened out. I saw a black cat today when I was getting dirt for my garden - I knew right away it was not her; it was not a sleek, black cat - more fluffy and bigger. But I called out anyways... It just ran away... I think an owl got her but there is still a little spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, somehow she is out there still and could come home to us...

I had a loooong nap yesterday afternoon and then stayed up cleaning the house, etc. until 1am. Rhiannon woke up twice while I was still awake and was settled before I went to sleep. I got 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep! What a treat. I had so much more energy today. What a difference that makes! I got my house clean and got a lot done in my gardens.

Blob

I am soooo tired. I feel like a jelly fish, a blob, a carcas. Rhiannon has been torturing me at night, waking up 3 - 4 times. Today I am at wits end. I don't do tired well... I have a really hard time making myself DO anything. This morning I started having fantasies about taking the back seat out of the van and sleeping there... where I couldn't hear her calling me...calling me....calling me... It has just been too many days of tiredness. I am tired of being tired....

Sheeba, Oh, Sheeba Where Are You?

Sheeba, Shebitsyba, Shebooba, the silly softy, the meow machine, Sheeba the great bird hunter and mouse killer, where have you gone? Have you become an owl dinner? coyote lunch? Have you been hit by a car? got lost chasing a bird? Rhiannon wants to know, if you are in cat heaven, could you still come visit us. I tell her that you could only come in her dreams. She dreamed of you last night...

If you are already in cat heaven, we want you to know how much we loved you. If you are wandering, find a way home, we love you. We want to see you playing in the cardboard house that Rhiannon decorated for you; we want to hear your insistent squawk in the morning as soon as we get up, hungry for your cat kibble. We want to see you wrestling and playing tag with Jodi and curled up asleep with Tigger like one huge orange and black cat. We loved having you, Sheeba. You were a kind, loving and playful cat. Jodi and Tigger will miss their playmate and we will miss your warm, black silkiness. What a sorrow that animals never live as long as their owners. Sad that all of you that is left here is your litter box and black hairs in the places you liked to curl up. 2 years was a short time. We would have liked to have had you longer. Thank you for the time we did have. Sheeba, oh Sheeba, where have you gone?

Trying Too Hard

Dean has left for Revelstoke where they are playing this week end. But before he left, he had some windows to do this morning so I went with him to get them all done quickly and we are really quick together. We did one house in 20 minutes... But on the second house, the home of two local professionals, they had this film often found on high-end homes. Slightly mirrored/tinted stuff that coats the outside of the window. It is supposed to decrease the heat from the sun. They had it EVERYWHERE. C'mon people, the sun is never going to reach the windows underneath your huge deck!...

Anways, the film on the windows always makes it harder to get the windows streak free. I was working very hard at getting them streak free. Usually, the harder you press with the squeegee, the less streaks (or none) you have. (there's another window washing tip - many people try a squeegee and then give up and hire a window washer...) I was pressing as hard as I could - even using two hands but to no avail. My triceps are still burning from the effort... I was having more and more streaks. Then for some reason, I had the idea to try the opposite. I just lightly pressed on the squeegee and drew it across the window. Magic. No streaks. Perfect windows. So as I washed window after window on this beautiful home, I considered how life is like that... sometimes the harder we try, the harder we make it for ourselves. Sometimes when we let go, things fall into place. Like people trying to have a baby who finally give up and get pregnant. Or with parenting when you try so hard and it is a struggle and then you relax and 'just be' with your kids and it all works...

So there is my tip for the day - don't try too hard!

How could they bug you? You are the oldest....

Rhiannon is sitting on my lap having sadly come indoors. The boy next door who she loves to play with is suddenly bugging her. You see, 2 other boys are visiting and together they now make a gang of boys. She was looking very sad and disappointed. They were chasing her with water guns and spraying her. I cuddled her on my lap and explained that I had 3 brothers and they bugged me all the time. That is just the way it goes with boys sometimes... And she looks up at me and says, "But you were the oldest, how could they bug YOU?" Yes, indeed, how did that ever happen?

Fight for Me

I was thinking today about my relationship. It is slowly recovering from Dean's 10-day-tour-3-day-notice thing. But I realized that I want him to show me something - some emotion - some passion....SOMETHING. I want him to fight for me. Like if this was the wild west, I would want him to duel somebody for me (well at least be willing to....) Perhaps this is rather an immature thing and it is deffinitely dramatic, yes?

But my husband is not a fighter. He is a stayer. He has staying power. Somehow, through everything (and there has been no shortage of 'things' - from the challenges of being a step-parent to 3 children to broken legs) he stays. He stays and he stays and he stays. Sometimes I must drive him near to distraction but he stays. And it is not that it is only me that he won't fight for, he is just not the fighting kind. He is the kind who lets things be, who lets them go by. I know this way we balance each other - I put fight into him and he helps me let things be sometimes...

I realized that sometimes I push and push, hoping to get him to 'fight' for me - to declare himself. I want him to say it, "No, I'll never leave you, you are the most wonderful woman in the world". But he doesn't say it. He would think that silly and dramatic and 'over-the-top' and unnecessary. But he stays. And I don't think my pushing is such a good thing to do. Sometimes while doing it, I wonder why I am doing it? I can see that I am poking at him but I never really understood why. I got it today. I want that dramatic declaration... I need to recognize that he does it without words. I know that it is not easy to be my spouse. I have this drive to examine myself and my life - its an irrestistible drive that is behind all I do. I want REAL. I want to be the REAL me and I want my life to reflect ME and what I believe. I am always searching inside myself. My mind is always working on me - rolling things over, twisting them about - until I 'get it'.

So I am very grateful to my wonderful friends who say those dramatic things to me - who tell me how wonderful I am. It truly feeds my soul. Perhaps I can stop pushing and poking my husband. Wow, wouldn't he like that!