On Bradstreet

January Days

2012-01-13T14:34:00.006-05:00

Following the constant activity of autumn and the holidays, January is a treasured time for renewal, nesting and nurturing and dreaming. We hunker down into warmth and engrossing books, seek inspiration in gardening and home books or photography on places like Pinterest and ease back into routines.

So far this month, we've been assisting Alex's parents with some decisions on their home after a break-in (on Boxing Day) left some kitchen pipes exposed to the cold, which led to flooding in their downstairs. The mess and headache they have been dealing with is stressful, and we're helping however we can. Although, we have been getting a few more visits in, so that's been positive. Adam recently spent the good part of a day in the garage with Papa, rebuilding a bulkhead.

During these visits, we've been discussing the homestead a great deal and Alex and I have been doing some research on the land and Bradstreet history as a result. As a family, we decided to blog our research and thoughts, and one day we may share that work with you. For now it's a private pursuit, and one that is requiring a good deal of time, so if you wonder where I've been, now you know. In my research, I did stumble on this photo of the homestead. I'm not certain what the date is (if that's a date written along the bottom at all). It looks like 1820 to me, but as my brother-in-law reminded me, that wouldn't be possible, photographically (and the house wasn't built until 1864). More research!

With time to reflect and partake in the comforts of home, we've found ourselves enjoying ever more, the guinea pigs. Beatrice and Annabelle each have distinct personalities (Beatrice loves Alex and happily accepts a long cuddle and pat on his lap and Annablle snuggles into Adam's neck, and according to Olivia, uses her teeth like a multi-tool). When we put them in their exercise pen each day, they love being near the fire (don't worry, we make sure they don't overheat), chattering to Max the cat, and eating three salads a day. Frozen Maine wild blueberries continue to be their favorite treat. They are sweet, funny and very easy to love.

And yesterday, we finally got a real winter snowfall.

January is a good month for pausing, catching our breath and allowing days to simply unfold. While the snow comes and the cold settles in, we'll renew our energies, passions and dream good dreams.

Yule: Twelth Day

2011-12-26T21:22:00.007-05:00

Today we continued celebrating by hosting our Tenth Annual Boxing Day. This year we had Alex's family with us and it was in a word, wonderful. Truly. They are all so kind, generous, loving and fun to be with. They were such fun to cook for, too. For instance, Alex's Dad, Papa John, had four bowls of my potato leek soup and he raved about it all day. Everyone seemed to love the cookies, but complained that there wasn't enough variety. Ha! I kid.

Alex and his parents got to discuss the homestead (now with maps!), Adam recorded Papa reading (Adam said, now I just want to record Papa reading an entire book!--I agree, it was amazing!) and Olivia did our astrological charts (do you have any idea how content these gatherings make my sun sign Aries/Cancer Ascendent/Virgo Moon? Do you? Well let me tell you, I'm pretty darn content.) The great Aunts shared stories about their recent travels to Italy and Auntie Heather became my BFF after trying the peppermint bark. And Alex's mom, Nana, made me hold back tears with her sweet ornament gifts. ::sniff::

Even better, these wonderful people not only ate food here, they took some home, too! Seriously, Aunt Jane hugged me and I swear she was teary-eyed when I handed her a take-home box of ham. The poor woman was so carried away, she forgot her box of cookies, and has already made elaborate arrangements to have them delivered to her tomorrow. Papa John said something about you put on quite a show here. You should go professional. Could they be more sweet?

Alex also made up goodie boxes for some of our neighbors and he and Adam went out for a few minutes to make those deliveries. Alex came home and announced that no one turns you away if you bring them candy. It was entirely selfish, however, as now we have less to pack up and put away and eat.

And with that, bellies and hearts and souls filled to the brim with love and joy, I leave you with our Twelve Days of Yule. I hope that you and yours are having a safe, merry and beautiful season and that your New Year is filled with creativity, good health, mindfulness, joy and abundant love. I will be relaxing this week with my family and I'll see you back in this space in January! Many thanks for keeping me company on this journey.

Yule: Eleventh Day

2011-12-25T23:50:00.003-05:00

Our day in snapshots. One highlight: Olivia gave Adam a coupon book she made for him, which included things like this coupon good for two guinea pig exercise set-up and take-downs or this coupon good for one Minecraft-friendly ear, complete with whimsical drawings. Just witnessing Olivia's joy in giving something she made, and seeing Adam's joy at receiving it, was a perfect summation of our day.

From our home to yours, we Wish you and yours, the very merriest of seasons!

Yule: Tenth Day

2011-12-24T21:58:00.001-05:00

Santa Eve. Yes, Santa. We believe. We do. The kids write conversational letters to Santa. They bake and decorate cookies that they leave for Santa. Santa, for this Secular Pagan family, is the Holy King, Green Man, Herne The Hunter and Odin. Santa is the spirit of Yuletide.

And so today was about preparing the house, food, and gifts, in anticipation of Santa's visit. It was about practicing abundance. Practicing joy, living with intention to give kindness, and love.

Just a few things were left to do, one of which was decorating the sugar cookies. The kids always organize this task. They bake the cookies and then they do nearly all the decorating. And how their decorating has evolved over the years, too! When I asked them what they try to be mindful of while decorating, they answered simplicity. It's true. We see far fewer cookies dotted with piles of red hots, made fancy by a tie dye icing. Gone are purple bears and coated in red and green sprinkles.

As long as they don't mind baking and decorating my favorites: a cactus and chili pepper that Alex and I got in Sedona, Arizona while on our honeymoon, I'm pleased. Even then, we were thinking about making Yule together.

Of course, they are mindful too, of creating extra special cookies, the just so cookies, that will sit alongside the carrots and greens for the reindeer. Santa ate the red hot-loaded cookies and will probably eat these pared down, simple cookies, too. But cookies do go on a plate, with a glass of ice cold milk beside, for Santa is on his way.

Yule: Ninth Day

2011-12-23T21:14:00.004-05:00

Ah, so we're in the final stretch before Santa, before loads more cooking and baking, before a houseful of family, before total, blissful relaxation. Make no mistake-we enjoy every bit of making Yule. To sustain us, I made up a big pot of minestrone for dinner, which will also be there for nourishing leftovers tomorrow, at the height of busyness.

Now, the table is cleared, the dishes are done and so the wrapping begins. I'll get asked to demonstrate mitered corners and bow-tying. We'll take joy in the preparing, the presentation and making something extra special for someone, giggle at the surprises held within the packages. In just a few days, with our loved and cherished gathered here in our home, we'll delight in the giving.

Yule: Eighth Day

2011-12-22T21:42:00.005-05:00

Cookies. We love them. We love baking, sharing and eating them. I always think of my mother, who was known for her beautifully decorated and crafted cookies, as we pull out recipes and cookbooks she used. I learned early, that cookies can be very simple, but can also be elaborate works of art. We aim for somewhere in the middle of that, in the land of mmmm, delicious cookies and still having lots of fun (yes, my mother could overextend herself on the cookie front, it's true).

Still, we do bake. A lot. When one type is completed and stored neatly in the vintage cookie tins we've collected over the years, we always find reasons to make more (that reason primarily being, more cookies.) And when I say we, I really mean Alex and the kids. I bake cookies all year long and while I do make some for our Yuletide (like the Boxing Day Shortbread*), it's Alex, Adam and Olivia who do the bulk of the cookie baking during December.

So today looked like this: my family, in the kitchen, hands in dough, notes being written in books, aprons covered in flour. For part of the day, Olivia and I ran a few Elfish errands, and it was just Alex and Adam in the kitchen. They just had to make up a big batch of Peppermint Pinwheels. It simply wouldn't be Yule without them.

Peppermint Pinwheels

makes about 48 cookies

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 tsp peppermint extract
...
2 eggs
1/8 cup milk
...
3 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
red food coloring
1/2 cup crushed peppermint candy (approximately 8 medium candy canes or 12-15 Starlight mints)
parchment paper

Thoroughly cream butter, sugar and peppermint extract in large mixing bowl. Divide 1 egg and refrigerate egg white for later. Add yolk and remaining egg; beat until light and fluffy. Stir in milk.

Sift together flour, baking powder and salt; blend into creamed mixture. Divide dough in half. To half of the dough, add 10+ drops of food coloring and blend well until color is uniformly pink. Shape plain and white dough into to separate balls and wrap well. Refrigerate both pink and plain dough for 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 335F. (350F may work, but cookies have a tendency to brown too quickly at this temperature.)

Roll out plain dough onto floured board and shape into rectangle, 1/8 inch thick. Sprinkle with crushed peppermint candy. Taking the pink dough, roll out onto floured surface, a similarly sized rectangle. You may need to do the dough in two batches. Layer the pink on top of the plain dough. Trim the edges to match. Press gently.
Along the long side, start rolling the joined layers into a roll. Once in a cylinder, slice into 1/4 inch thick cookies. Place parchment paper onto cookie sheets and place sliced cookies about 1 inch apart. Using a fork, whip the remaining egg white and then brush each cookie with the egg white. Sprinkle crushed peppermint candy on each cookie, brush with additional egg white, as needed.

Bake for 10-15 minutes. Remove from oven before the tops brown. Cool in pan for 5 minute or less. Remove from paper to wire cooling rack to avoid having cookies sticking to pans.

*Boxing Day Shortbread (or Sara Perry's Buckingham Palace Shortbread from her wonderful book, Holiday Baking). The recipe is also here.

Yule: Seventh Day

2011-12-21T22:38:00.008-05:00

Earlier this month, when I was thinking ahead to our Yuletide traditions, I thought about things we might add. I have always appreciated the old rite of Wassailing, where cider mulled with spices and spirits, eggs, cake or bread and fruit was given as an offering to the trees in the orchards, in hopes of a good harvest in the new year. And since our largest apple tree in our little urban orchard took a hit in the Halloween snowstorm, our trees were in my thoughts.

But only the rituals that are meaningful to everyone in the family, or truly feel authentic to you, will become traditions. It's very appropriate to alter rituals in a way that speaks to you, personally. That's why, when I brought up wassailing to the kids and told them my idea of making wassail and yes, going out into the garden to sing to the trees and offer their roots a drink, they rolled their eyes, some. Mostly they launched into a song about waffles (around here, we call this The Adam & Olivia Show). You know, because wassail, waffles...it was only natural.

So that is how it came to be that on the longest night, on Solstice, we had Waffles and Wassail. Why not? Waffles are like cake or bread. Ours, at least, are round like the sun, so present in our thoughts on these short days, and waffles are even honeycombed like summer's honey source. So we made up a pot of soft apple cider, mulled with spices and oranges. Some year (maybe this year, yet), I want to make this wonderful recipe for Traditional Wassail.) We had homemade apple sauce, too.

While Alex cooked up a big batch of waffles, we all took turns adding cloves to the remaining oranges to make fragrant pomander balls for our Solstice centerpiece. We lit candles and gathered at the table, where Adam toasted us all, as we clinked our mugs of cider together. And then the kids sang the Do You Like Waffles? song. (And to my children, have a look at this.)

After dining on waffles and apple sauce, we took the remaining wassail outside with us to sing to the trees and offer their roots a drink. I think we just created a new tradition; one that feels like ours.

And a Blessed Solstice to you and may you have a fruitful harvest in the New Year!

Yule: Sixth Day

2011-12-20T22:44:00.001-05:00

Not only does Alex bake amazing cookies, he also turns out an amazing pie crust and quiche. This morning, he treated us to one quiche made with Maine shrimp, and another made with broccoli.

For the crust, the recipe he uses is adapted from a family recipe that my Dad (also a pie-guy) uses, that he got from my Aunt Roseann. Rather than use vegetable shortening, however, Alex uses a good quality butter, like Kate's. This is the best pie crust. Flaky, light, buttery, and it melts in your mouth.

Aunt Roseann's Pie Crust

This makes two pies with two tops. (So to make two quiches without tops, divide this recipe in half.)

Feather with a fork in medium bowl:
3 cups of flour
3 sticks of butter

In separate bowl, mix & beat well:
1/4 cup of water
1 egg
1/8 tsp vinegar

Pour into flour mix. Flour hands, mix with hands. Divide into two balls, let rest for 15 minutes. Then roll into crusts on a floured board.

Alex's Quiche

Quiche Recipe - adapted from Simply Vegetarian Crystal Clarity publishers, 1989.

Base Ingredients

1 pre-baked pie crust. Shape dough (above) into pie plate, prick bottom well with a fork or use pie weights. Bake at 400F for 5 minutes, remove from oven and cool.

Preheat oven to 350F.

Prepare:

1 medium onion
1 clove garlic
2 Tablespoons butter
1 1/2 cups grated cheese - Cheddar, Swiss, Monterey Jack, Gruyere, whatever you prefer. We like a nice sharp Cheddar.
The Secret Ingredient (see below)
4 eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups heavy cream or half and half
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper

Melt butter in skillet, saute onions and garlic. Pour mixture into a baked pie shell. Top with The Secret Ingredient (below). Cover with the grated cheese. Blend eggs and cream in a medium bowl, add salt and pepper and stir well. Pour over all in pie shell. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until center is firmed up. If crust begins to get too brown, cover with foil to prevent over baking.

The Secret Ingredient
Use one of these (or mix and match) to make your favorite combination. Here's some we like:

* 1/2 lb cooked frozen Maine shrimp. Rinse in cold water to thaw and drain well. (You could also use 2 cans if frozen is not available.)

* 1/4 lb Shitake mushrooms or 1/2 lb of other fresh mushrooms, or mushroom mix. Slice mushrooms, add to skillet just as onions are almost done, for about five minutes - don't overcook.

* 1 medium head of broccoli, steamed. Or if using frozen, thaw completely, approximately 1/2 lb of broccoli. Chop into small pieces.

* 1 cup of fresh or frozen (thawed) spinach.

Enjoy!

Yule: Fifth Day

2011-12-19T22:53:00.004-05:00

Vacation. Alex is on vacation for two weeks. We like to say that he won't have to return to work until next year. It's one of my favorite Yuletide traditions; his taking time off so that he too, can do the baking and making he so enjoys, as well as making time to savor the joys of home and family.

We started our first day of his vacation by staying up far, far too late to watch a movie together. Alex and I laughed until we were hoarse. Being together, sharing little things like a blanket in front of the fire and a goofy movie, is important to us and it's easier to make this happen during vacations when he doesn't have to be out the door so early the next morning. So what if we saw 3am come and go?

So when I found him downstairs this morning, looking all spiffy and bright-eyed, making truffles (and ganache to dip his coconut pyramids into, of course), I should have been surprised. But I wasn't. Alex takes tremendous pleasure in making home and keeping traditions, much like I do (as do all of us, really). Somehow yesterday, even the kids missed all of his other cookie-making, probably when they were both still negotiating the finer points of gingerbread house building, so when he was pulling tub after tub out of the fridge, each full of bon-bons, truffles or pyramids, they wondered when did he do all of that?

And if anyone should sneak a precious truffle and leave behind evidence in cocoa dusted fingerprints in the kitchen? Or when he comes over while I write this post, to pop a truffle into my mouth? He just shrugs. Truffles are easy, and he can make more, he says. He's on vacation and he's the Cookie Man.

Yule: Fourth Day

2011-12-18T22:11:00.004-05:00

The Gingerbread House assembly and decorating day.

This gingerbread house was a learning process, for sure. Lots of discussion, much planning, and yes, negotiation, went into this project. Olivia and Adam made a sweet Hansel and Gretel-style house, trimmed in red and white. Perhaps the kids have started a new tradition this year, with the making of this gingerbread house from scratch. It's a very merry addition to our home and it would be a lovely tradition to add to your Yuletide as well.

Yule: Third Day

2011-12-17T23:12:00.000-05:00

Today, Adam and Olivia began the cookie making. They made all the pressed cookies and they finalized their plans for a gingerbread house. It took many hours of making dough, rolling out dough and baking to get house walls, so assembly will have to wait until tomorrow. (Did I mention negotiation? Yes. There was a great deal of that as well.) They discovered some issues with the recipe and this is the first house they've made themselves (not from a kit), so now they understand better how the dough shrinks, or how fragile it gets once it's baked. But that's all part of gaining experience in the kitchen. We find recipes that work, or don't and those that need tweaking or scratched entirely. And sometimes we find those recipes that stay with us for years and years, in treasured books, passed down from family bakers and cooks. We'll be using many of those in the coming days, certainly, as we fill tins with bon-bons, pinwheels and cutouts.

Yule: Second Day

2011-12-16T22:43:00.002-05:00

In years past, I've put candy-making on my to-make lists, but never seem to get to it. Or I forget a recipe. Or I find just the one, in the middle of January, only to file it away and forget about it again. This year though, with the likes of organizational tools like Pinterest, I have been squirreling away ideas since spring. (If you are a visual thinker like I am, this virtual pin board is wonderful.)

Alex and I both have childhood memories of making candy with our families, stretching salt water taffy across the kitchen or stacking blocks of fudge into boxes for gift giving.

So with that tradition in mind, we made Sea Glass Candy. I adapted our recipe and methods from this recipe.

Ingredients:

2 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup water
3/4 cup corn syrup
1/4 – 1 tsp. flavoring oil
butter for greasing baking sheet
confectioner's sugar for coating the candy

Grease large baking sheet with butter. Then measure sugar, water and syrup. Pour into saucepan, place over medium heat and stir until sugar is dissolved. Place candy thermometer in pan and boil--without stirring-- until thermometer reads between 300F-310F*. This will take about 30 minutes.

*Once your thermometer reads 279F, watch your pan very carefully. This is about 15 minutes into the process. You will start to smell the sugar cooking at this point. I found that the last half of the boiling goes very quickly and, as I learned when making my first batch, that once the sugar smells brown, or as my thermometer hit 295F, you have about one second between a good batch and a completely ruined batch. Like so.

Gross. Here's a tip: when your kitchen is filling with hideous burnt sugar smoke and your formerly boiling sugar is quickly hardening in your only saucepan into a black, sticky mass, do not attempt to pour it down the sink (unless you want pipes filled with taffy.) Luckily, I had some aluminum baking pans on hand and I poured the burnt sugar into one of those, and with protected hands, placed that on a baking sheet and placed it outside to cool completely before disposing of it. Like so.

Because the timing on the boiling sugar is so precise, only one batch at a time is possible. It's also important to note that you should measure out any desired food coloring and flavoring ahead of time, so that you are ready to add both once you have removed the sugar from the heat. You will have to work quickly. Once the sugar is ready (a few drops into a glass of ice water should crackle into strands), remove from heat, then add any desired flavoring or color. Mix with a wooden spoon. (I noticed that 1 tsp of color is very deep and intense, so if you desire something paler, add only a scant drop. However, 1 tsp of flavoring is barely detectable, so adjust accordingly.)

Once you've stirred the color and flavoring into the sugar, pour out onto your buttered baking sheet. (At this point, you can swirl additional color into the sugar for a neat streaked effect, as suggested by my kids.) You do not need to spread the sugar out, simply let it cool. I put ours outside for about 15 minutes (it was cold) first, then moved it to the freezer for another 5 minutes. It will look something like this.

Now comes the fun part. Once your sugar is completely cooled, cover it with a piece of parchment or wax paper and using a rubber mallet, rolling pin or hammer, tap your sugar until it cracks into pieces. A variety of sizes is best. Overly large pieces should be split.

Then, scoop about a 1/4 cup of confectioner's sugar into a gallon resealable bag and scoop the broken pieces of sugar into the bag. Seal well, and shake to coat each piece.

The candy should really start to resemble sea glass at this point, but removing some of the excess sugar in a colander, over a baking sheet, by stirring the pieces vigorously, really achieves that perfect sea glass look.

We did this to all three batches, each a slightly different shade of blue-green. We then filled gift bags with the candy and sealed for giving.

Doesn't that look pretty enough to eat? Thrilled with the success of that project, we moved onto some late-night peppermint bark making. I read about Amanda's favorite recipe some years ago, but had never made it. The recipe is also here. I'm not even a big chocolate fan, but this peppermint bark is good. It's fairly simple (though I still find the foil-on-the-back-of-a -baking sheet-thing perplexing. I followed directions, but I don't know why that step mattered.)

What's cooking in your kitchen? I hope it's something sweet!

Yule: First Day

2011-12-15T21:23:00.003-05:00

With six days until Solstice, I found myself revising to-do lists: lists for making and shopping to complete, and mostly, tidying, organizing and well, deep cleaning the kitchen. Not only is it more pleasant to work in an organized kitchen (even if it is oh so full of *useful and beloved items), but it it also easier. To have everything at hand, to have ingredients shopped for (this task Alex kindly completed after getting home from work) and out, ready to use, well, that is a most pleasant thing, in this space where we will be spending enormous amounts of time in coming days, baking and cooking. You could say it is even a little Yuletide gift to myself and my family; this keeping of home.

*note: I've been getting questions about our funky silicone spatulas. Ours came from a local kitchen store, and the brand is RSVP Tango, available on-line at various places. Try here.

To Be Jolly

2011-12-12T12:29:00.004-05:00

Paperwhites started in our vintage white McCoy.

Precious afternoon December light on the shed door.

A visit to Picnic, a treasure trove of Maine-crafted delights.

That was our weekend. We hung more lights, tidied corners, made massive amounts of scalloped potatoes, and we snuggled by the fire. It feels good to check things off our list, the small and big. This week? Gingerbread. And cookies. And packages. We'll be busy, certainly; being festive, living joyfully, that's what we love. 'Tis the season to be jolly; that is our joy.

Hearts Full of Song and Something About Bow Ties

2011-12-09T17:09:00.007-05:00

The Southern Maine Children's Choir, where eight out of the sixteen members are home or unschooled. I keep telling folks that Maine has a large life-learning contingent.

Look at all these Bradstreets in a row! We're so grateful to family and friends who made it a part of their day to come support not only this new community choir (which is still seeking members, audition Jan. 5, 5-7pm), but Adam and Olivia as well. It's wonderful to have such loving people in our lives!

Petit Enfant is a tricky number, but it was sung oh so sweetly, regardless.

Here, they sing Let It Snow!

Adam liked them on The Doctor, but he may have stumbled on a new fashion accessory for himself. Bow ties are cool.

The Halls, They Are Decked

2011-12-06T12:30:00.003-05:00

Last weekend, we went to our favorite tree farm to find our Yule tree. With that accomplished, our tree is up and now every corner of our home, inside and out has received a dose of Yuletide cheer, so now begins the baking, the making, the mailing and the visiting. The kids have their choir concert this weekend, too, so there will also be singing. We hope that you are also enjoying the hustle and bustle and the cheer of the season.

The search for our Yule tree.

The tedious bit, the waiting and the crafting and making in the meantime.

The next day, a few more decorations, a bit more making.

And the enjoying the happy sights of our home in all it's Yuletide cheer.

Crunchy Tofu Sticks

2011-11-29T22:56:00.003-05:00

I know? What? But yes, tofu sticks. Alex and I were vegetarians for about eighteen years and in that time, we developed a few stand-by recipes that a)were economical and b)tasted somewhat like those beloved-in-childhood-fish-sticks. The kids spent their early years being exclusively vegetarian, and still eat that way nearly all the time. Tofu sticks became a staple recipe, beloved by everyone in our home. It's easily adjusted to suit your tastes--make them spicy, nutty, add nutritional yeast, there are many possible adaptions one could make. Here's our basic version.

Preparation time, 30 minutes.
3-4 cakes of Extra Firm Tofu (Trader Joe's and Nasoya are good.)
approximately 4 cups of Panko bread crumbs or Italian style bread crumbs
seasoning for bread crumbs --
2 Tbsp dried parsley
1 Tbsp salt
1 tsp garlic powder
canola oil (olive, safflower, etc)

Preheat oven to 350F. Depending on amount of tofu you are making, coat with oil or line with parchment, 1-2 11" x 17" baking sheets.

Drain extra firm tofu cakes. How I do it: three cakes to a large dinner plate, second dinner plate on top, a mixing bowl or two on top to press it down, leave for 15 min. The liquid will not be reabsorbed and simply discard it when the 15 min. are up.

Cut each cake down the middle, lengthwise. Then cut across the cake in strips (as shown in photo). This will give you about five 10-12 sticks, total.

Mix 4 cups of bread crumbs and spices in medium bowl.

Pour some oil (as needed) into a medium bowl. Coat each stick in oil. Then coat each stick in bread crumbs, place onto baking sheet.

Once all sticks are coated, place in 350F oven for 30 min. (I've found it's nearly impossible to overcook them, so if you get caught up in some other task and the timer's gone off, no need to rush.)

Serve with dipping sauce (we like ketchup or cocktail sauce.)

See? Easy. We like red quinoa and a salad to round out the meal. Tofu sticks are great cold, as leftovers, in wraps, too. And if you have children like mine, they'll be in the kitchen asking for cold bits of tofu while you are making dinner.

Simply Beautiful

2011-11-28T17:37:00.002-05:00

Around here, bits and pieces of Yule are being brought out, hung up and created. The snowflake-making basket is on the table, ready for anyone who needs a moment to make something pretty. Eventually, all twenty-two of our windows will be decorated with unique and personal art, like little love notes to the season.

And yesterday, Alex made these candle holders for me from a downed maple limb. Simple and lovely, and so very sweet. He knows how I like to incorporate nature into our yuletide decorating, especially if it makes use of something that came from our own garden.

If you too, are decking the halls in the coming days and weeks, welcome the quiet moments to create something simple. It will nurture you, your family and home.

Thanksgiving Around The Kitchen Table

2011-11-25T13:43:00.005-05:00

We enjoyed yet another Thanksgiving with family at the Bradstreet homestead, yesterday. The turkey was deep fried to crispy brown, outside in the dooryard, and while none of us were at all sure a turkey should be flaky, it was devoured in good humor.

With twelve of us around the kitchen table, it was elbow to elbow and all the cozier for it. After seats were decided, we served up all the traditional fare, poured wine and tried our very best to save room for pie.

After dinner, the grandparents agreed to sit and watch Christmas Vacation and I think the best part was watching the grandparents laugh at all the same, beloved jokes that we laugh at. The turkey scene seemed especially funny this year.

Later, Heather got out cases of very old family photos and Alex and his dad tracked down some slides of the homestead from the 1950s. Thinking about all those generations that had lived on the land and in the very same house, seemed fitting for a Thanksgiving evening, spent with great aunts, grandparents, parents and children. Gazing upon photos and hearing some of the personal stories of Olivia and Adam's great-great-great grandparents, made me ever so grateful for all that we have.

Family, at the homestead, gathered around the kitchen table; a Thanksgiving to be remembered.

Third Annual MIT Splash! Weekend

2011-11-21T12:13:00.006-05:00

We are back from our third annual weekend in Cambridge, where the kids go to participate in MIT's Splash! weekend. This was Olivia's third and Adam's first, so there was some extra excitement and a bit of nervousness, this time around. Olivia was looking forward to some company and Adam was glad to have his sister be his guide around campus.

We're always amazed at the amount of people that arrive at MIT, early Saturday morning for registration. We see car plates from as far as Virginia and New York, each year. This line was long, but it moved very quickly and the morning sun was lighting up the buildings around us, beautifully.

Once inside, Olivia and Adam confirmed their registration, received their schedules and consulted with each other about classes and buildings. They would have a few classes together and would be able to meet during the day, too.

With Adam and Olivia safely off to their International Education Lab class at 9am, Alex and I had a whole day before us, so we decided to return to Harvard Square and putter around some shops and get some lunch. We wouldn't see the kids again until 6pm. It was a gorgeous morning and it's such a pretty area of Cambridge.

Alex and I tracked down coffee at a local cafe, visited the giant bookstore, admired pretty things in shops and had a delicious lunch, again at Flat Patties. It might sound really dull, but Alex and I really enjoy the easy comfort of spending a day out together and we always get each other laughing over our observations. We're one of those couples that walks down the street holding hands.

By late afternoon, we were both feeling our busy week before, catching up with us and with visions of pillows under our heads and a chance to nap, we returned to our hotel until it was time to retrieve the kids.

Rested and refreshed, we made our way through throngs of young people at MIT, to meet with Olivia between her evening classes. Originally, Olivia had planned to be in classes until 10pm, but her schedule changed some and so we waited for Adam to get out of his last class, which turned out to be one he loved, called Intro to Programming: Scratch.

With both the kids satisfied and full of tales about their day, but with bellies rumbling, we took off, in search of dinner. Walking across the MIT campus, it's not difficult to picture scenes from science fiction, labs and white coats and experiments gone wrong.

Since Olivia has never been able to explore with us on these trips, we took her to Harvard Square for dinner and to browse some of her favorite shops. It was really good to reconnect with both of the kids at the end of a long day. By the time were were snuggled into pjs and beds in our room, we were all giggling at Alex's impressions of a certain tv personality (he nails it) or his random observations about things, lovingly long referred to as Alexisms in our family.

The next morning, we had yet another early start, and much more somber one, with the news and images of police brutality at UC Davis (and across the nation) on our minds. Over breakfast, discussion was very much about democracy, The Bill of Rights and what happens next when our system of checks and balances seem to be no longer working. As upsetting as that discussion and topic was, it was important to have and it's yet another example of why unschooling works for us; it's being able to take the time to have conversations like it, regardless of what else might be on our schedule.

With extra hugs and one final run through of their schedules, the kids were off again for a full day of classes, many of which they would have together, which pleased them both, I think. Alex and I took ourselves to Ikea, where we dreamed up yet more home improvement projects and lingered over a delicious lunch. With a few more hours to kill and every corner of Ikea explored, we thought we'd stop in at the nearby Costco just to see what we could see. (We've never been). Again, we quietly riffed on the absurd selection and sheer size of items offered and a couple of times were doubled over with laughter. The cart that Alex insisted we walk around with to blend in, remained empty. Oddly, we just don't have a need for a gallon of Basic Cheddar Cheese Sauce. (We wondered, is there an Elaborate Cheese Sauce also available, besides just Basic?) Mmmmmm...

On our return trip to MIT, we enjoyed the sights of people and city lights and beautiful architecture in Boston's Back Bay neighborhood.

We parked on Vassar Street, near the Stata Center and the kids eventually met us there after their final class. We're proud of Adam for all his firsts at MIT--navigating the campus, choosing and attending classes, tracking down lunch. Additionally, we're proud of Olivia's competency with all those things and for being such a loving and helpful guide to Adam. We admire their willingness and ability to be free-range and independent for an entire weekend in the city, too. (What is with all those parents hanging out in the designated parent lounges for eight or more hours during Splash? They look miserable, like people trapped in an airport, waiting out a blizzard.)

We hit the road for the trip home, stopped for pizza and got home to pets that seemed overjoyed to see us. It was another successful MIT weekend and I know we'll hear yet more accounts of their days, their teachers and the subject material over this week. At some point we'll need to bake a pie or three, for our family gathering on Thanksgiving, in just four days. November, you're such a busy month!

Things We Did Last Weekend

2011-11-15T10:22:00.009-05:00

I love a potluck. I love hosting them and it's especially fun going to one. So when we were invited to an all-day unschooling gathering and potluck at Marcia's lovely home, we jumped at the chance.

Of course this meant I did a fair amount of hand wringing on Friday about what food we would bring to share. Deciding what to bring, maybe that's one thing I don't like about potlucks, because I can never decide on just one dish. So, that's how I ended up bringing four loaves of French bread, Alex's two apple pies, a gingerbread cake (recipe here) and two large vegetarian pot pies. Like I always say, what's the point of cooking just a little bit? The pot pie especially, was popular, and I've been asked for the recipe many times since, so here it is.

Vegetarian Pot Pie, Vegetarian Times Complete Cookbook, p. 240, also here.

(Note: this pot pie can be made with entirely just vegetables. I've also made it with turkey or chicken. I imagine it would be delicious using a lot of mushrooms, but my son, Adam doesn't care for mushrooms, so I haven't tried that yet. For this particular potluck, I used a meat substitute, Quorn Tenders, hoping to make something satisfying for the many vegetarians in attendance, but as with all processed foods, some of the claims about the product require scrutiny.)

1/4 to 1/2 cup white wine or vegetable stock
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup thinly sliced celery
1 cup diced red bell pepper
2/3 cup thinly sliced carrot
2/3 cup sliced frozen green beans
1/3 cup frozen peas
1/3 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup skim milk or soy milk
2 cups vegetable stock
2 Tbs. chopped fresh parsley
1 tsp. salt or low-sodium soy sauce
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
1/4 tsp. dried sage
1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper

Basic Biscuit Crust

1 3/4 cups unbleached or whole wheat pastry four
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. honey
2 Tbs. butter or margarine
3/4 cup buttermilk or soy milk

Directions

1.Coat an 8-inch casserole dish with vegetable cooking spray. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2.In heavy saucepan, heat wine or stock over medium-high heat. Add onion and cook, stirring often, until soft, about 3 minutes. Add celery, bell pepper, carrot, green beans and peas. If mixture begins to dry out, add 1/4 cup more wine or vegetable stock. Cook, stirring often, 3 minutes. Reduce heat to low. Sprinkle flour over vegetable mixture. Cook, stirring constantly, 2 minutes.

3.In glass measuring cup, combine milk or soy milk and 2 cups vegetable stock. Slowly add to vegetable mixture while whisking constantly. Sauce will start to thicken. Add parsley, salt or soy sauce, thyme, sage, pepper and cayenne. Cook, stirring constantly, until filling is thickened. Remove from heat, transfer mixture to prepared casserole and set aside.

4.Biscuit topping: In large bowl, mix flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda. Using a pastry blender or fork, cut butter or margarine into flour mixture until it resembles coarse meal. In measuring cup, combine buttermilk or soy milk and honey. Add liquid to flour mixture, stirring with a fork to form a stiff dough. Add more buttermilk if dough is too dry. Knead lightly in bowl, 3 to 5 minutes, until dough is no longer sticky. Turn dough out onto lightly floured surface. Roll out into shape to cover casserole dish or cut into wedges.

5.Lay biscuit topping lightly over filling. Bake until crust is golden brown and filling is bubbling, 20 to 30 minutes.

Marcia's farm is gorgeous and it was wonderful to see other unschooling friends we haven't seen since August.

Alex with our gracious host, Marcia.

We did some of the usual things, like play Bananagrams and Werewolves, but we also took walks and met some of the farm animals. Alex made friends with one Speckled Sussex chicken who seemed to take a liking to him in particular.

Finally, Rocco, the family dog, who had been such a sport the entire day, was telling us all that he was very tired and needed his couch back, so we too, packed ourselves up and readied ourselves for the drive home in the overnight hours.

It was wonderful to spend many hours in such a warm and welcoming (and inspiring!) home, where we could play games, share food and conversation with friends. Thank you, Marica, for a very special day!

(And what did we do Sunday, besides sleep in some, after our 3am arrival home? We jumped into The Great Bedroom Swap of 2011, is what. More on that in another post.)

There Is No Scarcity: Unschooling

2011-11-08T11:08:00.004-05:00

Lori, over at Camp Creek Blog, recently posted part one of a response to the notion that children need to be made to unplug and go out into nature. She's discussing the issue of scarcity, the idea that there's a shortage of time and some things should be given value over others. Lori argues that it shouldn't be a carrot or a stick (or broccoli vs candy) proposition at all (or say, a scarcity vs abundance), and it's an argument I quite agree with.

Does it ever work to encourage activity A by denouncing activity B? Books are broccoli and kids need their broccoli so that makes TV and video games candy. Sweet, delicious candy. I’m in my 40s but even I know: candy good, broccoli bad.

The either/or approach focuses on scarcity. The glass is half empty, your day is almost gone. Your free time is as scarce as hen’s teeth. Don’t waste it on things you enjoy! Invest it in these more intellectually valuable pursuits instead!

An entirely different approach would be to present books as candy, the outdoors as candy. Wow. I think I just blew my own mind.

One of the benefits of unschooling is having the time to meet these needs, to enjoy all the gifts that nature and media, literature and other indoor activities offer. It's also easier to see each activity as part of a larger ebb and flow, as Lori tweeted. Unschoolers also appreciate the interconnectedness of each activity, as each inspires the other. There's a reason my kids are currently building whole villages on Minecraft that incorporate green energy and farms.

Lori states this principle so clearly when she says,

Part one of why I don’t worry about my kids’ screen time? Our glass is three-quarters full. We have plenty of time — time to read, time to play, time to hike and camp and garden, time to play video games and watch a movie together.

This concept is one of the most difficult for those who question unschooling to grasp, and it's as she said; we have time. Balance occurs naturally, it isn't forced, dictated or controlled. There is an ebb and flow, indoors our out, it's all equally valued and pursued. We have an abundance of time to learn. And it's all sweet, like candy.

On Halloween Night

2011-10-31T23:47:00.002-04:00

We placed our carved pumpkins on the stoop, readied the house, warmed the cider, began a fire outside, and dressed in costumes. Olivia, in a peacock blue gown, masquerade bound and Adam, in a Minecraft costume that mirrored his own gaming skin, complete with axe and sword. Then our friend Noah, came by to join in trick-or-treating and the kids were off, braving the cold and the still snow-covered ground. Soon, a cold Olivia was home again, handing out treats and making up a simple dinner with me, as Alex and the boys continued their search for treats. Later, all of us by the fire, around the table, laughing. We listened to Blunt and Olivia's piece on the origins of Halloween. And later still, a ritual viewing of Nightmare Before Christmas. Our Halloween night; a simple, memorable, magical night.

Snow Fall

2011-10-30T10:41:00.003-04:00

It's not unusual to get snow in Maine, of course, and it's not unheard of, even, to get big Nor'easters this time of year, but the last memorable one was twenty years ago. So when Saturday came and this was our forecast, we were a little surprised, and a good deal concerned as most of the trees still have all their leaves, which never combines well with heavy, wet snow and high winds.

As the bulk of the storm happened during the overnight, we went to bed with visions of snow laden trees, bent over from the weight and fearing what the wind would do to them. We tossed a bit, due to the month early, snow-bright behind our shutters, waking to the snow plows grumbling up our street. We hoped we wouldn't lose power.

Peering out our bedroom window this morning, I saw an autumn scene inside a snow globe. At first glance, all looked well.

I put on my boots and sweater and walked the garden. Leaves were crusted into the snow, branches still adorned by leaves bowed to the the ground. Everything was soggy and slushy, the snow already melting. I then made my one discovery of damage. The big Newtown Spitzenburg, an heirloom variety and our largest apple tree, was cracked in the middle, taking a large branch with it. A lump formed in my throat. I was already sad about having to tell Alex about his favorite apple tree.

Walking back to the house, I saw just how crushed the normally lush, normally 15' high viburnum was. We'll have to brush the snow off and hope it bounces back.

The snow on this eve of Samhain, it is a reminder that we are truly on the brink of winter. The branches and leaves bend to the earth, the snow blankets and we enter increasing darkness, the time of going deep, until Solstice. Tonight we transform, we carve pumpkins and we will light candles for the glow and warmth and know that winter is truly here.

Appreciating Autumn

2011-10-29T15:09:00.005-04:00

Autumn in our neighborhood.

Autumn sunshine through our windows, shared with sweet friends.

A final autumn harvest and glorious color in the garden.

Autumn pleasures; working with our hands.

Celebrating Autumn.

We're enjoying home, each other, making and baking and preparing costumes for Halloween and awaiting our first snow storm. May you also be enjoying similar comforts and appreciating autumn.

There's Magic In Those Eyes

2011-10-22T13:14:00.003-04:00

We've always said she has Bette Davis eyes. Often we'll look at her and think it's not possible she's really of this era and not one where the movies still have no sound. So when she was playing with make-up this morning, planning her Halloween costume, I just had to take some photos. Besides, this time of year, as Samhain draws near, it's time to explore those other sides of ourselves and transform. Couldn't we all stand a little transformation from time to time?

Apple Picking: Bringing Home Autumn

2011-10-17T20:12:00.007-04:00

Somehow we found ourselves in the middle of October without a single bag of apples. How would we have apple butter, apple dumplings, crisp or pie without apples? So off we went, on a brilliant autumn Sunday afternoon to a local family farm to get ourselves some cortlands and macs.

We also picked up a few other things from the farm stand, like leeks and pumpkins, cider and garlic.

Autumn is going to be delicious.

Another Fair: Viewing Another Maine

2011-10-07T16:33:00.000-04:00

I have good memories of piling into a small sedan with high school friends, minutes after the last bell rang to drive an hour over bumpy and narrow Maine roads to go to the Fryeburg Fair. It was something of an adventure and felt of freedom, as a teen exploring the possibility of dating (he was driving) and the exhilaration of being out with friends. I think we scrounged a few dollars among us to get some fried dough and go on a couple of rides on the midway. I remember it being cold and we were all in sweaters and I think the maybe-boyfriend put his arm around me. Maybe I even remember wearing his hockey jacket. The trees were brilliant in amber, gold and crimson. It got dark and we had to get back home, and romantic tension crackled even more, back on those pitted roads. It was a school night and we were obedient kids who were only seeking the simplest of thrills.

Remembering this, I thought that taking my family to the Fryeburg Fair might hold some of the same magic. I don't know why exactly I thought this, as neither of the kids are dating and also, we're not their dates. Plus they have different experiences, different ways of being in the world. Sometimes, I mess up.

At the very least, I thought it would be fun. So recently on one cool, bright autumn day, we went.

I won't lie; it wasn't a resounding success. Keep in mind, our kids only know one Maine fair-The Common Ground Country Fair. There is no midway, the food is organic, it's a clean-air event (no smoking) and yes, it tends to sway heavily to the left, politically. It's just about perfect in every way for our family.

The kids are reading this story about raising goats.

This fair, however? Well, we tried to like it. The animals were cute as always, and we even recognized some of the same farmers and food vendors, as the Fryeburg Fair is an agricultural fair (and Maine's largest fair). The day was absolutely perfect for it. Most of the food smelled wonderful and tasted just fine. The sights and sounds of the people and midway, however, were slightly overwhelming. While I might still be enticed to go on a ride, it just isn't anything either Adam or Olivia are interested in doing, and that's okay. And it was easy to avoid the temptation to buy anything, as we're not in need (nor would we desire) t-shirts promoting racism and segregation (why some corners of Maine embrace the Confederate flag is something I will never understand-we saw these rebel t-shirts. Gross.) Neither do we desire to partake in any sort of cultural appropriation and fill our home with fake Native American imagery.

But. We did have delicious, huge, glazed donuts. And maple sugar cotton candy. And we met more fun goats. We saw a completely different side of Maine, like it or not. And we did laugh, a lot. And the day and night was perfectly autumn. So that's something.

Peaches, Plums and Grapes, Oh My!

2011-09-28T14:31:00.003-04:00

As our calendar began filling and summer came to an end, I never found the time to do a post about peaches. Or plums. Or grapes. It was a good year for all three and we benefited nicely from our trees and vines.

Our Madison peach tree in particular, was a lovely surprise as many people, like my mother in law, lost their blossoms to the cold, wet spring, and then when the middle of summer got very dry, followed by the high winds of hurricane Irene, well, we thought we might not get much of a harvest. (And did anyone else have issues with leaves on everything turning brown and crispy on the edges after Irene? It doesn't look like tar spot fungus at all. Fortunately, with some rain, everything has been recovering. Grampie Tim theorized it was pollution the hurricane rained down on us, which is what I suspect as well. At any rate, it didn't seem to affect the fruit.)

Check it out--that was a half-pound peach and we had many just like it!

We ended up with seventeen pounds of peaches from our very young tree. Alex made twenty-four pints of jam with whatever was left after we ate some. Yes, you can grow organic peaches in Maine.

As for the plums, we had enough for a half-gallon of jam. And the grapes gave us more than twenty pounds, or sixteen pints of grape jelly and we still have more to harvest.

We also pulled the rest of the beets, cut some more broccoli and our neighbor gave us some rhubarb, too.

Not bad for a small urban garden and one late afternoon harvest. And oh, that peach jam on warm, fresh bread? Scrumptious.

Inspiration Everywhere At Maine's Common Ground Country Fair

2011-09-27T13:12:00.001-04:00

This year was our twentieth Common Ground Country Fair attendance. We attend all three days and you might think that there would not be anything new to do, see or learn, but I assure you, there is inspiration at every turn at the fair. There are the comforts of the known and familiar, certainly, and we look forward to those things that mark the beginning of autumn for us; the fair as ritual, in other words.

Summer's bounty is evident everywhere, in crates, on tables, in piles of brilliant color and texture. It's difficult to narrow our selections to a couple (or five) items. (The guinea pigs are thrilled with the ten pounds of ugly carrots we got at bargain prices from one farmer, so it pays to look and chat with the vendors.)

The fair, too, is the place we meet with friends and family. We sit and talk at the kitchen demo while the kids prepare a squash dish or we find a bench outside the animal barns to reconnect. We kiss the head of a friend's new baby. Unfortunately, I never seem to get enough photos of all the loved ones we see, but since it's because we're too busy talking and laughing, I don't actually feel that unfortunate.

At the fair, Alex and I spend a great deal of it as a couple, exploring things that interest us, while the kids are off on their pursuits. For instance, Alex and I went to see the primitive skills demos and got to sample some hot off the fire cinnamon rolls baked by a Maine Guide, or we attended a couple of presentations, one on preserving Maine's farmland and another on living mindfully with the rhythm of farm life. On Saturday, Alex and I caught up with some friends and participated in the 350 event promoting awareness about climate change.

The fair has always been child-friendly. Once upon a time our kids spent their fair days hammering nails into logs or jumping into hay or getting their faces painted in the children's area. In later years, they spent their days helping out friends in the youth enterprise tent or roaming with a group or hanging out on the hill. I think this year we saw them begin a new tradition--volunteering. Saturday afternoon they both worked at the country store and they enjoyed their four hour shift so much, they did it again on Sunday. Their coordinator told them that their team was the best crew he's ever had working at the store. It's rare to find organizations that are willing to take youth volunteers and I think MOFGA has always been wonderful about encouraging young people to get involved.

Even if children are not volunteering, children are welcomed everywhere at the fair. I saw children helping their vendor parents or running their own booths, children with freedom to run and explore and even invited to play. And since this stands in stark contrast to how unwelcoming much of the world is to children and youth, the fair becomes a most refreshing haven for learning and thriving.

Another thing I so appreciate about the fair is the abundant beauty, from the people, the knowlege shared and demonstrated in skills and hand crafts to the animals, who always delight with their sweet or funny personalities.

Even little things, like witnessing the variety of bees that found the honey booth and wondering at their ability to find packaged honey from far and wide, was beautiful.

And of course, the food. Fair food, sourced from Maine's farmland and oceans, is one of the greatest pleasures to be had at the fair.

Every element of the fair inspires. Some years we leave with a desire to grow a new type of tree or save seeds. Some years we leave wanting to recenter ourselves and cultivate more beauty in our lives. Other years we simply feel energized by being in an organization that embraces sustainability. And like this year, sometimes we leave feeling inspired into action, to take stock of our lives, to change things up, in small and big ways. I don't know exactly yet where that road will take us, but I know the fair will be a guidepost on our journey.

Seeking Maine: Common Ground

2011-09-22T18:03:00.004-04:00

And we're off! See you at the Common Ground Country Fair!

For additional information about this wonderful organic, agricultural fair, visit MOFGA.

Practicing The Considered Home

2011-09-19T11:47:00.001-04:00

With the arrival of autumn to our doorstep, I find myself as I do every change of season, looking around our home. The desire to move things, organize, de-clutter (or clutter-up in some cases), freshen and renew and simply enjoy our home more, becomes paramount. With every year, especially with two growing and learning teens in the home and a partner that works here at least twice a week, and the addition of two guinea pigs, it's essential to reconsider spaces and make changes if necessary. Putting the practical aside, walking around our home, studying its spaces, corners, well-loved surfaces, arranging textures, making space--the simple act of considering our home is a form of meditation, spiritual practice and a path to nurturing myself, and others as well.

I've written before about keeping home for comfort and beauty, but in addition to those principles, practicing the considered home is also a path to well-being for us. It could be a matter of rearranging a space because somehow the energy feels stuck, or repainting a room because the color feels off, or not quite right in some way. Or perhaps it means there has been growth and that old wall color no longer fits the changing teen or your changing taste.

Sometimes, too, a space may frustrate, feel wrong somehow, but significant change to that space simply isn't practical or feasible. When I feel that way about a space, it's often helpful to see the space in different lighting. Photographing a space and studying the room also helps you see things you might not have noticed. I've even looked at rooms reflected in mirrors and have noticed the unique qualities of the space I didn't notice before. Finally, meditating, or day dreaming or visualizing the space as you drift off to sleep is often a helpful exercise; what changes would you make? Editing spaces in our mind can be a great way to see solutions for problem spaces.

Our kitchen during a sunrise. Everything out and ready to use.

Most of the spaces in our home are far from perfect. There's always a lot we'd like to change. But considering your space, whatever that may be (I've lived in everything from mansions to trailers to motels to cars*), I've learned that every space has an effect on your well-being and in most cases, it has little to do with money or decorating expertise, and this is crucial to understand. I've lived poor, but I recently had someone tell me they were envious of the apartment my mother and I lived in when I was in high school, twenty-two years ago! The dated, gold shag-carpeted, barely furnished apartment. Why? Because we made it ours, we made the space as suited to us as possible, using what we had. And I know I've had the experience before of entering a home, possibly even a home belonging to a wealthy family, and feeling no sense of home. *Yes, I've experienced homelessness, more than once and living in a car. Even then, my sister and I arranged the suitcases in the backseat just so, we made little cubby holes within the clothing rack that spanned the car width, we had to accommodate the cat, we made room for our teddy bears. We lived there and we made it as workable and pleasant as possible.

Our imperfectly personal and comfortable bedroom.

So what then, does make a well-considered home, and how exactly does it become an act of self-care to arrange a home (dwelling, space, room, vehicle) according to yours, and if you share your home, other's needs? Well, for you? I don't know. This isn't about decorating rules or keeping up with the Joneses, remember, this is about how you live. I suppose if you are constantly packing up for long hiking trips to go fly-fishing in the Wyoming and Montana mountains, like my sister's family does, you'd want to keep all that gear accessible. You might decide to display your gear or you might want it tucked neatly away, but I bet you'd want to get at it easily. It would not be an act of self-care to deny yourself the trip because you couldn't access, maintain and organize your gear, and it would be stressful and time consuming to have to track it all down each time you went on a trip.

Grooming supplies are kept within easy reach in our small downstairs bathroom.

Here's another way to look at it; for instance, it makes sense to keep the flour and sugar in the kitchen, since that's where we bake or cook. But many of us don't think about the other spaces in our home the same way. We instead scatter belongings about the home and then we wonder why we are stressed every minute we are there or we need to find something. As I said before, keep like with like. Because all of us in my family do bake and cook a great deal, we like to keep all our supplies within easy reach. This is partly a function of our small space, but it's simply easier to get at cookbooks when they are on a shelf near the mixer. As a result, we're more likely to cook, can and prepare meals, which nurtures us all and provides for more connectedness, more time enjoying our space and less time avoiding it.

The landing has great light and is used as painting spot, supplies accessible.

Having a well-considered home for us, absolutely means we live with purpose, in a way that makes sense to us. While we certainly have collections, we're not likely to hold on to things that no longer have personal meaning. It also means we're not trying to achieve a catalog look or have the same bare kitchen counters that our neighbor has. (I once knew someone that could not function in a kitchen with appliances and supplies out on the counters, so it all lived behind cupboard doors. I on the other hand, would be miserable in such a space, and would find myself impatient and reluctant to ever begin a project. Everyone has different needs in the home, the trick is to honor your needs, convention or neighbors be damned.) Along with keeping like with like, I also like to keep things where we tend to use them. Every space has that spot that collects mail or library books or mittens or even people. So we arrange our home accordingly, so less time is spent moving items around to different spots or shuffling guests to other parts of the home, (when they clearly want to be in the kitchen) and this too, is nurturing to everyone in our home.

Pottery and linens are stored near the dining table.

Guinea pig supplies and information are stored at the guinea pig table.

Pans and aprons hang on hooks near the stove.

So as summer gives way to autumn, and you find yourself antsy in a space, anxious or wishing to avoid it, take time to study it. Pay attention to the light, the items that collect there, the way people like to use it, they way you wish the space functioned and how you might repurpose the space. Take notes and photos. Daydream about that space. Think about how you might be trying to make the space function in a way that isn't reasonable or practical. Do you need more light, more storage, less clutter, brighter paint, more texture, less color? Do belongings need to be more accessible? These are all things you might discover about your space.

By changing how a space is used to better meet your needs, you will feel less stressed, more calm, more likely to use your space. You'll now have a home you associate with well-being, connectedness, good function, order and comfort. It will truly be a well-considered home.

Speaking Of Unschooling

2011-09-16T09:52:00.008-04:00

As we begin activities and pursue our interests and move into our fall routine, we are as committed as ever to unschooling. Inescapable, however, is the focus on school. Back-to-school promotions, sales events, scheduling, so much is centered on school. And while we benefit, certainly, from uncrowded libraries, museums, parks and a wide range of other venues, the silence, the lack of young peoples' presence is also unsettling; their voices go unheard, their ideas and needs are unmet and society can forget them for six or more hours a day. For these reasons, when our unschoolers are out in the world, people (read adult people) question their presence. Sometimes with polite interest, more times with rudeness. But always, always, the question is why aren't you in school?, or it's companion but how can you learn anything without school?

Sometimes these questions are asked in a larger forum, on TV or in news articles and often unschooling is looked at with scrutiny, and more unfortunately, with prejudice. This is why many families are hesitant to talk to the media, and simply because, how does one convey an entire philosophy of living, parenting and being present in a few sentences or minutes? It's not easy, and the risk is always there for misunderstanding and misrepresentation. It takes an entire paradigm shift, in one's thinking, understanding and living, and it's a shift that is required just about every waking moment of unschoolers and unschooling parents; it is perhaps unreasonable to expect that media should grasp the philosophy, having only grappled with it for the brief length of an interview.

There are other risks associated with speaking publicly about unschooling, (beyond any privacy risks) as well. Should any one family be the spokesperson for unschooling, when unschooling certainly has key principles, to the world, it can look very different from family to family? Currently (always), there is an ongoing discussion in the unschooling community about unschooling philosophy and its principles, who decides those principles and are some people adhering to unschooling more appropriately (if appropriate applies, even) than others. As such, there's a certain wariness and responsibility many unschoolers feel when speaking openly about our learning philosophy.

This is not to say that there are never positive, informative and affirming ways in which to discuss unschooling openly. Many have written and published books that have gone on to be cornerstones to unschooling philosophy. There are numerous, amazing blogs that chronicle the lives of unschooling people. Many unschoolers produce videos for YouTube or present and conferences or other forums regarding their experiences. Last week (September 5, 2011) Olivia, 14, produced and co-hosted a show on unschooling for WMPG's Blunt Youth Radio. Her intent was to present unschooling without debate and without contrasting it to school and to present the unschooling to the greater community, as an Unschooling 101. During the program, Olivia's co-host asked her some questions about her own unschooling experience and later, they interviewed several people, in-studio and via the phone, including yours truly. Marieke, lives locally and so she was in-studio. As a grown, always-unschooler who recently just earned her Masters degree, she offered her own fascinating and unique perspective on her unschooling, and she remains a steadfast supporter of the philosophy. Olivia also interviewed Kathryn Baptista, the founder and organizer of the Northeast Unschooling Conference and the mother of grown unschooler and musician, Julian Baptista. The show, I think, was very successful and stayed true to Olivia's goal and intent with presenting unschooling. (I wish that I could link you to the archived recording, but it is unavailable at this time. I will see what I can do to remedy this.)

Sometimes, too, people in the media are truly interested in the unschooling philosophy and seek out those families willing to share their experiences and are invited to do so without being antagonized or misrepresented by the interviewer, as was the case at the end of last week, when the local paper interviewed our family. The author, Gillian Graham, came to our home and sat with us around our table for over an hour, listening mostly, to our rather enthusiastic and probably overwhelming perspectives on unschooling. We are grateful to her for her willingness to listen and report on a topic so dear to us. Similarly, this report offered up a fair look at unschooling, just as most education articles were focused on back-to-school topics.

While it's not always easy to discern who is going to be open-minded enough to report on unschooling without bias, I think it's important for unschoolers to keep trying. While negative and hostile comments and reactions from our own circle of family and friends, communities, institutions and media can drive us to isolation or only willing to seek out the company of other unschoolers, there are people out there willing and ready to learn from unschooling. I see increasing evidence that unschooling philosophy (knowingly or not) is being looked to, when news pieces on education reform talk about adoption of technology in the classroom,

"Kids, especially in kindergarten, who are five years old, are very hands on and learn best when they're actually manipulating information and manipulating objects,"says Sherwood Heights principal Laura Shaw. She says iPads also provide children with immediate feedback."

or how classrooms are using resources long used by unschoolers to help students learn.

"Initially, Thordarson thought Khan Academy would merely be a helpful supplement to her normal instruction. But it quickly become far more than that. She’s now on her way to “flipping” the way her class works. This involves replacing some of her lectures with Khan’s videos, which students can watch at home. Then, in class, they focus on working problem sets. The idea is to invert the normal rhythms of school, so that lectures are viewed on the kids’ own time and homework is done at school. It sounds weird, Thordarson admits, but this flipping makes sense when you think about it. It’s when they’re doing homework that students are really grappling with a subject and are most likely to need someone to talk to. And now Thordarson can tell just when this grappling occurs: Khan Academy provides teachers with a dashboard application that lets her see the instant a student gets stuck."

More telling is that education reformers have begun using the very language and actual principles of unschooling, as in this Daily Riff article,

"Since the role of the teacher has changed, to more of a tutor than a deliverer of content, we have the privilege of observing students interact with each other. As we roam around the class, we notice the students developing their own collaborative groups. Students are helping each other learn instead of relying on the teacher as the sole disseminator of knowledge. It truly is magical to observe. We are often in awe of how well our students work together and learn from each other."

Then there are the popular bloggers, like Seth Godin, who question the very existence of school as we currently know it and challenge us all to do the hard work of questioning school, too.

Perhaps as the very schools we unschoolers choose to do without adopt more and more unschooling principles, the questions we get from the clerk at the grocery store will become less critical, and more curious. Perhaps the parks and museums will become learning hubs once more, as the classroom walls expand outward, into the world. We can continue unschooling, adding our voices and principles to the education discussion, as we become less reticent to do so as the system changes. We can hope.

At The Bradstreet Homestead: Getting The Wood In

2011-09-06T10:07:00.002-04:00

It's said that cutting your own firewood warms you twice. According to my father-in-law, aka Papa, however, it warms you at least sixteen times, and I believe him. We've helped get the wood in* before, and it's certainly an easier task now that the kids are older and can help and I don't have to worry about little ones running into the open saw rig. The saw rig consists of a band, a frame with some iron fittings and a giant circular saw and my mother-in-law said it was her father's and is the same rig she grew up using. Nana is 73 years old (going on 35), so that tells me the rig is a useful piece of farm equipment with some longevity. Basically, the rig gets hooked up to the old tractor and the tractor engine runs the wheels and the band that spin the saw. Everything is exposed and there are constant reminders to keep your hands from that fool thing.

Nana, a master organic gardener, shows off a prize tomato.

The Saw Rig.

Setting up the saw rig.

My in-laws had already cut and stacked a great deal of wood, so what you are about to see us do is a piddly drop in the bucket by comparison, but it was still work. So keep that in mind. (Have I mentioned my in-laws are 73 and 78? Yeah.) We were working with Alex's two Aunts and his sister, as well.

Evidence of their hard work.

All we had left to do.

So there's this system for stacking the wood into the trailer. I don't know who came up with it (I'm guessing it was an Aunt ruling), but let me be clear: there is no deviation from The System, tolerated. So as long as we remained cognizant of that fact, everything went smoothly.

The kids, not deviating from The System.

Here's how this works: someone runs the rig and does the cutting, someone chooses and helps guide a timber onto the rig, and someone helps catch the cut logs and then throws them with deadly aim into the trailer, where there are other someones following The System.

How it works. Follow The System.

Let me take a moment and talk about style. Look, yes, we're in Maine, land of L.L. Bean and Martha's summer home, but as you can see, none of us were taking any pointers from The Daily Prep while we were helping to get the wood in, especially on a warm and muggy day as it was. The fact that Papa was wearing a hat he found blown off some motorcyclist's head on Route 3, that happened to be covered in the ever offensive Conferdedrate Flag, because it keeps the sweat out of my eyes, should be evidence of that fact, alone (as in, I won't mention the shirtlessness.) It was hot. Moving along.

So, we filled up a trailer-full, and Olivia, 14, wanted to drive the truck down to the shed, so she did. This was her first driving lesson and experience, ever. She did so well that when we decided we should just finish the last of the wood and go back for a second load before dinner, she drove the truck back that time, too.

Getting it done.

Adam discovers a mini-log ecosystem.

Olivia drives for the first time, in the big farm truck, hauling a load of wood.

With our bellies beginning to rumble, we finished the cutting, loading and stacking the very last of the wood. And because it was so warm and we were all covered is sawdust, Auntie Heather and the kids went down to the pond while Alex and I finished stacking, then we followed. The pond at near-dusk was so calm and inviting and felt so refreshing. It's also bittersweet, knowing that that was probably our final swim in the pond this summer.

With our quick swim over, we got ourselves back to the house in time for a late supper of vegetarian lasagna and blackberry cobbler, prepared by Nana. We sat and talked as long as we could with a two hour drive home, and then we said our good-byes. It's always good to be together as a family, but I like the days we are working together to complete a big job the best. As Papa says, it warms you not twice, but sixteen times.

*Edited to note that I write get the wood in, because it's the way it's said, grammar be damned.

Unschooling Conference Time: NEUC

2011-09-05T16:14:00.008-04:00

Every late summer this happens: August suddenly ends. It's simply difficult to believe we're one week into September, already. Which means we have been home exactly one week since our second Northeast Unschooling Conference, which means we're still adjusting our clocks, schedules and routines. I know for many of our friends, returning home meant dark houses, no showers or laundry or worse, washed out roads and flooded towns, thanks to hurricane Irene. Because of the hurricane forecast for the east coast, many people were not able to come to the conference or had to return home early. As such, this NEUC seemed much smaller and quieter. I imagine every conference has its own energy and mix of people, regardless.

This year, for instance, was different for us, mainly because we didn't feel like complete newbies. We reconnected with many, we knew our way around, we had a feel for how the days would flow and we were even more okay this time, with the kids coming to bed at 4am after marathon Werewolves games. Alex and I also managed some wee morning hours. (Did I mention we're still on conference time?) We made new friends, too. And we noticed how things that were great last year seemed meh this year, and that was okay; the whole point of attending NEUC is to have new experiences and make connections, not to replicate the previous year.

Some of our conference highlights include:

The presentations covering a wide range of topics, including Gender Diverse Parenting, Happiness, Tweens and Teens and The Unschooling Parent. There was even NEUC's very own, The View, starring Kelly, Erika and Laura.

The Friday evening talent show. I love cheering on others as they expand their comfort zones, show off, get silly and share their delight in something. Both Olivia and Adam were content to only watch this year, but in a spontaneous and collaborative effort, Rhianon and Olivia performed Pink's Raise Your Glass.

Chelsea and Chad perform a song from Dr. Horrible, which was completely awesome. (And later, when Chad's solo on I'll Make A Man Out of You, turned into an unplanned duet because of an enthusiastic audience member? More awesome.)

Riyaz beatboxing.

Olivia and Rhianon.

All the different types of gaming, fun and connecting with others, at all hours.

The Fun Shops, planned and spontaneous.

Sushi-making.

Making art.

Us: What are you making, Adam?

Adam: An Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device from Portal 2.

Us: Of course you are.

(And we knew were at an unschooling conference because all the kids and adults knew what he had made.)

Anyone who wanted to learn dance routine to Thriller, could.

The Saturday night dance.

and more Thriller.

Sunday brought the final Fun Shops, the closing words, and more long, long hours of Werewolves. I even recall going back downstairs in my pjs to listen to Julian play for a wee hours sing-along. Our plan was to attend the post-conference picnic at Salem Willows on Monday. We got our tired selves up and packed up our room and we picked our way through Salem streets...and by the time we arrived, we were all feeling done-in. Bone tired. Burnt out. Fried. Anxious about pets and any wind damage at home. Tired sums it up. So we stayed only long enough to get some group photos, to say good-bye and then we drove home.

As it turned out, it was good we left early for home. We got our bags unpacked, the house aired out, fed and cuddled the cats and guinea pigs and I had just enough time for a late nap when Olivia reminded me that we had to go into Portland so she could prepare for her radio show on Blunt Youth Radio and we didn't get home until almost 11pm. Good thing I was still on conference time, because that meant I had another couple of good hours in me.

The rest of our days since have been pretty much just like the NEUC. Busy, full, some downtime, some activity, some spontaneous gatherings, some odd, odd hours. It's alright though, because our schedule, our days are our own. We unschool, you know.

How We Spent Our Summer

2011-08-24T22:54:00.004-04:00

Before we head out to the fabulous Northeast Unschooling Conference, our second, I'll leave you with a bit of what some of our summer has looked like.

Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows, part 2, of course.

Evening swims in very cold water.

And the sandy walk back up the hill.

The July heat wave. Wrapping freezer packs and putting them in the guinea pig cage and discovering their fondness for frozen wild Maine blueberries. Sympathizing with the miserable cats. The day I picked the kids up at camp and the temperature read 106F-in Maine. Closing all the windows and shutters inside and then opening them back up, realizing a hot sea breeze was better than none.

Spicy Indian food outside one of those still, humid evenings.

Another day at Sebago Lake.

That morning we saw the hotel and night club fire downtown.

Visiting friends and their new home and farm and helping with a bit of painting before their fifth baby arrives (any day now).

The everyday things, like making dinner, cleaning house, picking tomatoes and basil from our garden, hanging laundry and making enough dough for what turned out the be four trays of cinnamon rolls, four French loaves and four honey wheat loaves. Just the usual.

Watching guinea pigs nap. Feeding guinea pigs veggies from the garden. Laughing as they roll tomatoes around and dribble seeds down their chins.

And lately, looking for rainbows as the storms roll in, grateful for the rains soaking the garden in a matter of minutes and loving the periwinkle light of the evening, summer sky in August.

Unschoolers At Summer Camp: What We Learned

2011-08-22T10:02:00.010-04:00

For five weeks, Olivia and Adam attended a local day camp. We'd get up early, and while they got ready for the day by packing their gear, I'd construct nutritious and sustaining lunches for them. After, we'd get in the van and drive the twenty minutes necessary to navigate around the expansive Scarborough Marsh. During our trips, we'd discuss current events, things going on at camp or with them, music, history and countless other things. Upon arrival, they'd grab their back packs, say good-bye and they'd be off for the day.

Since the kids had attended this camp four years ago, we knew a little about what to expect, though this round, Olivia was participating as a counselor-in-training (CIT), and this would be for a longer stretch. In many ways it was a very positive experience; the kids are inches taller, leaner, stronger, egg-brown, and their hair is streaked with sun. They learned things about themselves, faced challenges and most importantly, learned what not to keep for their own and they had many opportunities to realize the extent of their own vast knowledge and competencies. Some of the challenges would be overwhelmingly positive, and others not.

For instance, Adam, 12, who dislikes heights, persevered and learned to love doing a number of things on the ropes course, including the "Flying Squirrel", (like this) where one is harnessed, runs off an embankment and just as one catches air, is hoisted up, swinging in huge arcs, thirty feet in the air. Adam said he liked to strike a Superman pose. We, as well as Adam also heard from counselors about what great kid he is. He was named "Camper Of The Week", three weeks running and was given the Counselor Award because, "this guy was like having a third counselor around and I never had to tell him what to do and he was always helping out."

And yet, while our friendly and helpful camper would recount his day, wherein he often spent the entire ropes period belaying other campers instead of having his own time on ropes, we'd also hear about how he took to sitting off by himself at lunch as to avoid having food chucked at his head. Apparently, it was normal lunchtime behavior for 12-14 year old kids to wing carrot sticks and pizza crusts at each other. These were the same kids who, when they learned that Adam did not attend school, asked, but how do you learn? He's also the same kid that while in Environmental Education period was the only one who had seen King Corn and brought Monsanto's evil ways up for discussion. Daily, he was appalled (and bored) at the lack of knowledge being shared during his Outdoor Living Skills course (no fire building? no food prep? no tree and leaf identification? no knife skills taught?) Luckily, Adam remembered learning about debris shelter building, which came in handy when he and his team had to build one so they could win their game of camouflage. (BTW, I tried to find a link about how to play this children in the woods game and all I got were links to digital media.)

For Olivia, 14, though her experiences were somewhat different, they hit a similar note throughout. She was equally well-liked, by many counselors, her peers, and other children. She came home with hilarious tales of the smaller children and their daily antics. Our favorite tale is the one about how, as she washed up at the small and low sinks in the restroom, she said to one of the five year old campers that, goodness, I'm too tall for these sinks and it's harder for me to use these or something like that, and the little girl looks at her with a serious and concerned expression and says, "I'm sorry you're so big". Olivia, nearly 5'8", could only thank her for her concern.

Olivia enjoyed working with groups to find ways for them to have more fun, often when the counselors themselves didn't take the time or seemed apathetic. She organized kids into orderly lines so they could fill up their watering cans easily instead of rushing the tub all at once or she thought the little ones capable enough to pick up five pieces of balloon, each, from the grounds after a water balloon battle, and they did, with joy. Sadly, when she suggested this strategy, the counselors nearby just brushed Olivia off, rolling their eyes and insisting the littles wouldn't and couldn't handle such a task, with a sound they won't do it, so don't bother. She ignored their derision.

Olivia, typically organized and always looking for efficient means to complete tasks, particularly liked being part of the CIT bake sale that was to raise money for their group camping trip. For several evenings, Olivia would come home and whip up a large batch of something, bag it up and have it ready for the next morning. The CITs did meet their financial goal of $400.

photo courtesy of Olivia

When Olivia spent time assisting the Environmental Ed counselor, she was thanked for being very helpful and for providing ideas and inspiration for future activities. That counselor was one of the few who, while still questioning Olivia about unschooling, was doing so in a respectful and interested manner. Sadly, this was not the same situation a couple of weeks later when Olivia was grilled during lunch by a couple of counselors regarding her education, or rather, their perceived lack of one. She left that incident feeling ridiculed and offended by their rudeness and put in an uncomfortable situation with adult authority figures. (And unschoolers are interrogated about socialization?) We all discussed the situation with the staff the next day, but it's difficult to say whether any true understanding on their part, resulted. That incident and with the many, many examples the kids reported of children being berated for not staying in seats during art or crossing a line in the grass during sports, gave us a small sample of what school is like for children. (None of us can understand why children were pulled from activities and taken to the office for such behavior, especially when we consider that this is a summer camp-that parents pay for-so their kids can have fun, and we would hope, have the freedom that the summer months should provide.)

About that camping trip the CITs took; the one they were told would be two nights and upon arrival at camp were told would only be one, having packed for two. The sketchy camp site at a place not on the lake, the complete lack of planning for meals or supplies needed (not for lack of trying on Olivia's part: utensils she said, condiments she said, vegetarian meal ideas, she said). The outing to a fun park not in the plan, the inability to start a fire, the work of setting up and taking down in a short span of time-all of it spoke to a complete lack of direction, competence and leadership on the part of the CIT counselor, and even some of the CITs. Understandably, Olivia was frustrated, as were we. And it spoke to the lack of skills in preparedness, decision making, and planning that every single one of those involved, with the exception of Olivia, and her education was the one called into question! If this is evidence of their schooling, we can and will continue to do without.

Which is why when I found myself in chat with Clark Aldrich late last week and subsequently the kids received a copy each of his book, Unschooling Rules in the mail (many thanks, Clark!) it felt good. No, great. Because it was a needed and reassuring reminder that there are indeed others out there who understand how our children learn, should be and could be learning. So often I've thought of Chapter 4: Twenty-five critical skills are seldom taught, tested, or graded in high school (in it he lists Behaving Ethically, Being a Leader, Prioritizing Tasks and Goals, Sourcing/Buying/Procuring Goods and Services) over this weekend, a fact made abundantly clear to all of us over the past five weeks.

It is also good, and great, that we are home for a few days, busy preparing to attend our second Northeast Unschooling Conference for five, whole, glorious, energizing days. We're looking forward to long hours connecting with new and old friends, games, crafts, dancing, laughing and meals shared, all within an environment that understands learning in freedom.

Finally, what we learned, and most importantly, what Adam and Olivia learned about themselves while attending summer camp, is that they possess tremendous knowledge, skill and qualities that make them excellent planners and leaders. They learned that while some are open and interested upon discovering they are learning and living without school, many more are uninterested, irritated and defensive. While this truth wasn't exactly an unknown with the kids, this was an intense confrontation with that truth, and one they handled with graciousness and wit. As for goal setting and preparedness, Olivia is already planning to take the leader-in-training (LIT) next year and Adam plans to do the CIT program when he is eligible in two years. Summer camp wasn't ideal in many ways, but personal growth happened and challenges were overcome or dealt with regardless. The experiences the kids had this summer overall, were enriching and taught them much, about themselves and others.

Just Like Old Times...

2011-07-17T11:43:00.004-04:00

We spent yesterday in the company of old friends. One friend, in particular, I've known since I was twelve and she was thirteen. Sonja and I were in scouts together, we spent two nights a week in high school, swimming laps together at the YMCA, we were different but alike. Most importantly, we supported each other when things at both our homes became oh so hard. And through the years, even though she was a year ahead in school and we have lived hundreds and hundreds of miles apart and we have gone years without contact, somehow, we have still managed to stay connected and we find each other again. For all my moves and the childhood upheaval, this friendship that has endured, is something for which I am and always will be, grateful.

And, because the world is small, we have mutual friends, friends from high school and college, and we all reunited yesterday at her gorgeous camp. As it happens with potlucks sometimes, we ended up with three types of pasta salad. The fruit salad was bottomless and the lake was perfect. Though all the friends' children were all at various camps or doing other things, Olivia and Adam still had fun kayaking and swimming and joining in on the conversation. Many of the spouses were unable to make it as well. We'll get together again when all everyone can be there, I'm sure.

There was so much ribbing, laughter and love and generosity, that it was just like old times, but not. With the years spanning two decades, there is more acceptance, more appreciation, more love. And oh, the laughter!

Let's Discuss Technology and Learning...

2011-07-10T11:59:00.004-04:00

Today I'm over at Unearth and Fathom, my unschooling and learning blog, talking about the ways in which we use technology and whether digital learning reduces us to passive relays for information or if its the key to knowing the previously unknown and unknowable.

My Synesthesic Mind: Picturing Memories

2011-07-09T21:30:00.006-04:00

Recently, Alex and I caught a bit of a program featuring the artist, Stephen Pace, who for many years, resided in Stonington, Maine. (He died in Indiana at the age of 91, while painting a portrait of his beloved wife, the artist Pam Pace.) In the piece, he said something that resonated with both of us and it's something that I have often thought. To paraphrase, he said he often paints not what he's looking at, but what he remembers.

His words resonated because so often, when my hands get that itch to create, specifically to paint, and I just can't or won't make time to drag the easel and paints out to the subject, I snap a photo instead. I take a huge amount of photographs. Of everything. With my synesthesia and unique, fairly photographic memory, this might seem redundant, but with the view that if it's not recorded, it didn't happen, I want to be able to refer to that blue quality of light, that tip of a leaf, the freckles on my daughter's face, the brown egg hue of my son's summer skin, the strength and tenderness in my husband's hands.

Sometimes photo-heavy blogs (like this one) are viewed as throw-away or as having little value. I've never understood this. Again, perhaps it is because my brain is making different connections, literally seeing and sensing things differently, that I think this. To me, first sensing, stopping and looking, then recording an observation with a photo is not any less than recording one in words. Both, writing and photography (or other media) require participation, then processing on the audience's part. I adore words, language. Words have color, texture, flavor. But for me, a photograph or painting or other similar piece of art, says more to me than any string of sentences could ever say. Words are the looking at. Words, to my mind, don't as easily convey the feelings, the welling-up, the fullness, the richness of a moment.

So I stop. I wait for a breeze to pass. I have to be patient. I have to be quick. Moments are fleeting. I might not have words for that one blip in time, that one passing look, that hair that fell across her forehead, that particular gray-green of the coming storm. Words fail me too often in my memories. That is why, having that photo helps me etch those precious, sense memories so that one day, when I do turn to canvas and easel, I will paint what I remember.

July: Reaching Outside

2011-07-07T19:16:00.008-04:00

This July has come bounding upon us, full of warmth and giddy good feelings, much like the way the neighbor's dog greets us, with his tail wagging. With screen doors shutting and sand or grass perpetually stuck to the bottoms of our feet, my family knows that summer is here. Meals and showers are had outside. Food comes in from outside. Brilliant sun and dappled shade call to us, come outside. The surf crashes, the sea breeze whispers, sea fog coats us, outside. New growth, new blooms, new beauty; we'll suddenly find ourselves walking the garden, drawn there, mesmerized, outside. And we gather, come together, outside. We reach for summer, we reach outside.

photo by Olivia Bradstreet

Last week, Olivia spent well over twelve hours producing the July 4 Blunt Youth Radio Show she co-hosted, called What Does July 4 Mean To You? There was much she had to do for this show, including interviewing and recording numerous people in our town. She arranged for local historian Herb Adams to be a guest on the show. And after a morning walk and quick dip in the ocean on the fourth, Olivia had to be at the station by late afternoon, until the show was over at 830pm. That evening, we gathered with friends, ate leftovers and cooked hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire and listened to the show. By reaching outside, Olivia and others on the show, provided us all with a fascinating look at not only our nation's history, but how people view Independence Day today. We're proud of you, Olivia!

Saturday morning, I found myself, outside, lured by the scent of roses in our garden. We had spent the day before, tidying and weeding and it was so peaceful and serene, and as it had rained the evening before, everything was dewy. The morning sun, filtered through the maple tree filled our garden with lemony light.

As the kids opted for a slow wake-up and it was the day before our big family gathering, Alex and I went together to pick strawberries at Maxwell's Farm. Despite the fairly early hour, the farm was busy with like-minded folk in search of fraises. With the clear sky and bountiful sunshine, and fields full of ripe fruit, in very short order we were done. Once home, and pre-party chores doled out and divided, I sat outside and hulled and cleaned many quarts of strawberries, destined for shortcake the next day.

Once the strawberries were dealt with, I prepared potato salad, pasta salad, baked French bread and a huge batch of biscuits for the next day, while Alex and the kids cleaned house. In the evening, however, we returned outside, for supper, showers and water gun battles.

On Sunday, July 3, we were up early to finish preparing for our afternoon lobster dinner with family. Outside, it looked like rain with only the occasional peek of sun, so we crossed our fingers that rain would hold off until evening. I went out to the garden to cut flowers for the green jug, the kids set the table, the food was dished, guests arrived and we gathered together, outside, and it didn't rain. Well, at least not until much later, and it only sprinkled. Some of us walked down to the beach and some napped, bellies full.

On Monday, July 4, a gorgeous, perfect summer day called us outside, so up we got and we walked into Ocean Park to see the festivities. There was a parade, and the small village was decked out in red, white and blue bunting. Hot and ready for a swim, we went home to pack up a picnic for the beach. I hung laundry, too. As I drove Olivia into Portland for her broadcast, the sky was darkening. By the time I got home, Alex and Adam were being hurried up the hill by thunder claps, and I was rushing to get the laundry off the line. We had a brief and welcome downpour and soon the sun was shining once again. There may have been a little napping before our friends visited.

On Tuesday, Alex had a vacation day, so we were once again, up early and ready for a day outside, relaxing. We packed another picnic and went to one of our favorite ponds. We all needed that day, of simple fun and rest.

And last evening, outside once again, a July thunderstorm was brewing and we kept watchful eyes on the sky as the wind gusted and clouds blotted out the sun.

July calls on us to extend ourselves, to reach, to explore new things, to seek new growth, to revel in summers delights. I feel so fortunate to live in such a beautiful place, a place that has numerous discoveries awaiting anyone willing to look for them, outside.

Sun, Sand And Summer!

2011-06-21T14:35:00.003-04:00

Well, hello, Summer! So nice to see you again! With your arrival, we took to the beach and had our first ocean swim of the year (for comparison, our first swim was May 25, last year). We couldn't stay long as we needed to be clean and out the door for Olivia's third Blunt Youth Radio meeting (yes, she loves it, she has a summer movie promo airing, so listen for it on WMPG. Very exciting.) It was, however, so very good to hit the waves again and the water was so clear and not so very cold, either. We vow to fit in at least a dip every day, especially since the kids are busier than ever and will be in camp soon enough. Couldn't have asked for a more perfect way to celebrate the solstice. Ahh.

Happy 39th, Alex!

2011-06-19T23:45:00.003-04:00

Yes, Alex's birthday always falls on or very near Father's Day. So naturally, we spent the day as he wanted, simply, as requested. Breakfast on the deck, a bit of gardening (the tat soi was ready and we ate it for supper), a little work, when he expanded the fire pit, followed by a fire, dinner and cake. To one amazing, nurturing father and partner, Happy Birthday, with love!

Of These Longest Days Come Longer Posts

2011-06-17T11:19:00.013-04:00

In the wake of my unplanned and unannounced blogging break, I'm trying to rework my daily routine, my space and time put aside for writing. Nothing major led to nearly a month without posting, it was just life that happened. I have missed this space. But when other things drew my attention away, I had to, well, attend to them. For three weeks we nursed one of our new guinea pigs, Beatrice, to health, after she suffered an unfortunate accident that left her with a soft-tissue injury. This meant meds administered twice a day, two cages (because the two had to be separated), lots of laundry after the pain meds caused her to get an UTI, (oh hey, did you know that most vets don't even know how to care for guinea pigs, which are labeled exotic small animals, and that treatment involves much trial and error? It took several days, one emergency vet visit and two x-rays later, but we finally found a wonderful local vet that regularly cares for exotics, which was a relief.) I'm happy to report that Beatrice and Annabelle have been reunited successfully, in their new, larger cage and have settled in nicely.

Annabelle and Beatrice enjoy some outdoor playtime.

As spring finally arrived and took hold in the garden, I felt the energy stagnating in the house and it was time to freshen spaces, once again. So at the beginning of the month, we spent long hours outside weeding and opening the outdoor shower, but also rearranging rooms inside. (This also meant my computer got moved and unplugged for a week or more, which kind of puts a cramp in the blogging.) But oh! How good it feels to have some of those problem corners addressed and renewed and ready for summer! And now, on the days Alex works from home, we spend that time together in our newly arranged, shared office space.

It felt especially good to have the house and garden organized and tidy in time for the arrival of the midwest Bradstreets, or Alex's aunt and uncle. We spent the morning preparing a meal--clam chowder in the crockpot, fresh loaves of French bread baked, tossed a huge salad and marinated chicken in our favorite local sauce. I also whipped up what my mother called Cherry-O Cream Cheese Pie, and put two of those to chill in the fridge.

Cherry-O Cream Cheese Pie

1 8 oz package of cream cheese, softened
1 can of sweetened condensed milk
1/3 cup lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla
1 can of cherry pie filling, chilled
1 prepared 9" graham cracker crust

Whip cream cheese until softened. Slowly add sweetened condensed milk, blend completely until there are few lumps. Slowly add lemon juice and vanilla. Whip for an additional 3 minutes on med-high speed until smooth and light. Pour into prepared crust and chill for 2-4 hours. Top with cherries (or blueberries) just before serving. This recipe is easily doubled, etc. Also great to use for a trifle.

With the menu under control, we took Olivia to her guitar recital, where she played Simple Gifts, as a solo the first time through, and as a duet with her teacher the second. We, of course, thought she did very well and she so enjoyed her lessons and is looking forward to continuing them in the fall.

We arrived back home just as family arrived. The last time we had visited with Alex's aunt and uncle, the kids looked like this. It was very good to see them.

We all thought the garden that evening looked particularly pretty, with all the cool spring tones glowing in the dusk. We said good-bye to family and ended that weekend on the couch in front of an episode of Buffy. Whew!

Since then, the kids have finished the last of their spring classes, including pottery and guitar. They also auditioned for the Southern Maine Children's Choir (SMCC) at the end of May and we heard back end of last week, that they both have been accepted! Also, earlier this week, Olivia attended the Blunt Youth Radio Project Open House and she's committed to hosting, reporting and assisting with programing through the summer. Finally, just a few weeks more, and both Adam and Olivia will be attending day camp, Olivia as a CIT, for five weeks and we we're already gathering supplies and checking gear in preparation.

Otherwise, our days have been about gardening, caring for the four animal friends, trying to follow along at a friend's final softball game, household tasks, finishing books and starting new ones, playing Minecraft, making movies, seeing movies, riding bikes, observing, contemplating and yes, we'll have beach days, too. This weekend we'll celebrate Alex's 39th, as well. Our summer calendar is filling up and having a few days to revel in the strawberry moon and these, the longest days, feels good, too. I hope these days find you well also and that it won't be quite so long between posts next time. Enjoy these long days!

Once More, Upta Camp

2011-06-01T16:17:00.004-04:00

Last weekend, we welcomed the start of the summer season, here in Maine. Along with our out-of-state visitors, we took to the road and headed upta camp, or up to the family homestead for our traditional gathering. With all the cool, wet days, the warmth and sun was very welcome. We did all the usual things, like cooking over the camp fire, changing into swim suits in the camp (Adam was the only brave one this year), groaning over jokes and painful puns and remembering other years when the wind was up and we all froze. We got the canoe out and went on lady slipper treasure hunts. We stuck marshmallows on sticks and ate many servings of Tim's pasta salad, the ingredients and flavors of which mimicked the classic Maine Italian sandwich, and wished for more servings of my Dad's excellent strawberry-rhubarb pie. We griped about the mosquitoes and black flies and our equally annoying state politics. Essentially, it's the same every year, these holidays spent on The Point, but that's exactly what we like about those oh so special days. They've become a tradition, a ritual, practiced and honored, cultivated and preserved. We all grow older, some of the faces change over the years, but the sense of place, the memories, those are what keeps us together. All of us know what it means to share this time with each other, in that place carved out by glaciers, pine drops under foot, the sound of water against the rocks. We have that feeling that we've all arrived somewhere special, the moment we reach the clearing. Not one of us would change a thing.

Best Biscuits Ever

2011-05-20T13:33:00.002-04:00

In our house, usually it's Alex that makes the biscuits, using a recipe passed on to him by his mother. And those biscuits are good. I however, don't enjoy making them. Partly because they never come out as good as when either of them make biscuits, and mostly because I find the recipe too vague (as in, non-existent) and I loathe fussing with shortening. Sometimes you really need biscuits to round out a good meal, though, which led me to paging through my favorite bread-making book, The Tassajara Bread Book. Why it took me so long to get around to using this recipe, I don't know. They are hands down, the best biscuits I've ever been able to make. The recipe goes together quickly, uses few, whole ingredients, and the biscuits come out consistently from batch to batch. The big test for me is whether they taste good the next day, or do they get hard and dry? These stay flaky, buttery and delicious and are perfect for next day egg sandwiches, so make plenty (as always, I double this recipe.) Do be cautious when mixing the batter-don't over mix or you'll end up with not very fluffy biscuits. These also work equally well as drop biscuits.

Flaky Biscuits, from Edward Brown's Tassajara Bread Book

Makes 12-16 biscuits Preheat oven to 450F

1 cup unbleached white flour
1 cup whole wheat flour*
3 tsps baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup butter
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk

*I just use all unbleached white flour and I also use my stand mixer to blend ingredients.

Combine flours, baking powder and salt. Cut butter into dry ingredients with a pastry cutter or two knives or rub gently between hands until pea-sized pieces are formed. Make a well in the center and add the eggs and milk. Beat the eggs and milk with a fork until smoothish. Then continue stirring with the fork, gradually incorporating flour, until all is moistened. On a floured board, knead the dough just enough to bring it together.

Roll the dough into a rectangle 1/2 inch thick. Fold into thirds. Tun the dough a quarter turn, and repeat rolling and folding. Repeat once more. Roll out dough to 1/2 inch thickness. Cut into rounds with a floured cutter or glass. Place on ungreased sheet and bake at 450F for 8-10 minutes until bottoms are browned lightly and the tops slightly golden. Do not overbake.

Next up--these biscuits with strawberries and fresh cream. I mean, looking out my window, I can hope that one day in the near future, we'll have strawberry season, can't I?

Saving For A Rainy Day

2011-05-18T11:12:00.004-04:00

Due to Blogger's revamp last week, I wasn't able to post, but all that means is that I get to share these sunshine-filled garden photos with you, today. And I don't know what's happening in your neck of the woods, but here in Maine, we pretty much all feel that the extended forecast can go die in a hole (to borrow from a friend). Unfortunately, it also means that, as in Mays of other years, all our flowering fruit trees and bushes are in bloom during cold, rainy weather. I've half entertained the thought of helping the trees out with their sexy times, but as another friend mentioned, by now the pollen is probably washed away. Sad face. Perhaps a few brave bees will get the work done and I don't have to think about hauling out ladders and Q-Tips to reach plum blossoms. I know so many of you are dealing with cold, wet springs, too. Aren't you glad I saved us some sun for a rainy day?

Agreeable Friends

2011-05-16T09:52:00.006-04:00

Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms. ~ George Elliot

Olivia, 14, has for some time now, been wanting guinea pigs. She spent hours researching and learning about their needs and behavior. After much family discussion, we came to mutual agreement that we should adopt a pair, preferably a young female pair. Unfortunately, though there are far too many small animals in the various shelters, we had to wait a bit to find what we were looking for, and even then, it required a meeting. Taking a chance, I looked up some shelters in neighboring New Hampshire and happened on a pair in a nearby town. Friday evening we set out to round up the needed cage, food and other supplies. Saturday morning, Alex and Adam, 12, constructed a hiding box for the guinea pigs. With everything set up for two new friends, we made a visit to the shelter. We had our eyes on a pair featured on their website and we were crossing our fingers the whole trip that they would still be available and be a good match. I think it's fair to say it was love at first sight, at least for one of them.

After visiting for a bit, we knew we had our pair, two 10-month old girls who had to be adopted as a together, which is how guinea pigs should live anyway. They had been surrendered to the shelter when their owner died and had only been there for a week. With adoption papers in order, we packed the two into the carrier (laid out with cozy towel and timothy hay, courtesy of Olivia) and we were off. Surprisingly, they made not a sound on the way home. Having always traveled with cats, this was a new and welcome experience.

On our trip home, assured that the pair was indeed coming home with us, Olivia gave them their names. Annabelle has what is known as American Satin/Dutch coloring, which means she has short, sleek hair that looks and feels like satin. The Dutch coloring means she has a blaze of color, in her case ginger, on her face, broken by a span of white, with more ginger on her bottom. Her bottom has only a small bit of color, too, which just makes her cuter. She has red eyes. Beatrice is an Abyssinian, meaning her fur sticks out in a pattern of rosettes. She even has ridges of hair on her back that look like fins. Her coloring is almost Dutch, but she doesn't have any blaze on her white bottom. Her head and neck is a beautiful salt and pepper gray. She has ruby eyes.

Now home, we've made every effort to settle them in comfortably. They are still shy, as they will be for awhile, until they get used to us. They've had a quick bath, just to help freshen them up since their shelter stay and so far they love dandelion greens, sweet clover, carrots and parsley. They didn't seem thrilled by the kiwi or banana. And they love their timothy hay, of course. We haven't quite figured out an exercise routine for them yet, as we're trying to let them get settled without us moving and handling them constantly. We tried some floor time, but they mostly hid, nestled up against, Adam. We think they might need a larger hiding box, but with the addition of a paper lunch bag, they seem pretty content. Annabelle preferring the lunch bag, and Beatrice taking the box. There is lots of rustling, moving the paper bag around, nosing it to one side or the other of the cage. Annabelle, a bit smaller than Beatrice, is able to get in the bag and turn around in it so she's facing out.

The cats? Curious, naturally, but as I predicted, mostly scared of the guinea pigs. Max is able to watch the cage now without his hair standing on end, so he's made some improvement. Ginger is happy as long as she can eat the hay. Otherwise she doesn't seem the least bit bothered by the two new residents. As for the guinea pigs, they seem completely unfazed by the presence of the cats.

We are all adjusting to one another, they are getting to know our sounds, and we theirs. There's been lots of vibrating, purring and wheeking. We've been reading lots and learning new things. For instance, after observing that the guinea pigs rested, a lot, but never seemed to actually sleep, we learned they can sleep with their eyes open. Interesting! ~~And weird~~. The most helpful resources have been Cavy Spirit and Guinea Lynx. We certainly all adore them already, we just hope, in time, that they will come to adore us as well.

Twelve Now

2011-05-05T23:47:00.001-04:00

Our boy, our baby, our youngest, Adam, turned twelve today. Which meant lots of things, including our sudden burst into song in honor of Adam's day.

It also meant I went through my night-before-child's-birthday weepy ~~okaysobbing~~ ritual, in which I kind of felt like that pinball in that song; bouncing around, pinging from one activity to the next without much direction or accomplishment, because, oh, hell, I love celebrating our children and their birthdays, but I admit they make me wistful, too. My family knows this though, so they know to stock up on tissues and they've learned to not mind awfully much, tears in the bread dough. My baby boy is twelve. Perhaps you understand.

So the boy who went to bed the night before, who was engrossed in his book, fighting heavy eyelids, who wrapped his strong arms around my neck and kissed my cheek, who told me how much he loved me, that boy is now one year closer to being something other than, well, a boy. He certainly won't be a little boy. But there were moments, when he sat there opening his gifts, that I still saw that child, mixed in with the features of a near-teen.

His sweetness, something Adam possesses to his core, remains evident in his look, his spontaneous hugs, his thoughtfulness. There's a kind of humor, a knowing, a whimsy in his demeanor. This is Adam. It's just who he is.

I have no wish to keep him a child, even if that were possible, I wouldn't want that. I am simply acknowledging that there are changes afoot, that he will soon be transforming, that these moments are fleeting. I only want to see my children, really see them, as they grow and change.

I think he had a good birthday. He seemed pleased, especially as he got to know his new tool for all that movie making he does. I know we had a good day with him. He set up his new game, showed us his latest Minecraft adventures, including this video, which we watched three times (and cringed at the uh, challenged singing, trust me, hearing Adam's belly laugh is worth enduring any awful singing). Since there was nothing great playing at the movies, he elected to tuck into a favorite series (our second go-around), with dinner of a veggie plate, cake and ice cream. Once in bed, I kissed him goodnight and he scrunched me (because that's what Adam's hugs are like) a little harder. "I had a good birthday, mommy. Thank you. So much," he said. He's twelve, now. But he'll always be this sweet little boy, too. Maybe you understand?

Digging In The Dirt

2011-05-01T19:27:00.004-04:00

Today was about digging and moving earth. Three tons, or seventy seven cubic feet of soil, to be exact, most of it dug and moved by Alex and Adam. Once again we're changing and moving things around in the garden, trying out new ideas and experimenting.* We've decided that we want to have a larger vegetable garden and that meant dismantling some raised beds and configuring a new space. Oh, and digging. Adam and Alex used the double dig method which meant twice the work but means we now have a healthy bed in which to grow vegetables.

So far we plan to grow bush beans, beets, carrots, broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, tat soi, onions, leeks, tomatoes and basil, some of which, like the beets and carrots, I'll sow this week. The bed will be expanded some on one end, making a boot shape, or something like it, soon. The goal is to capture as much sunny areas of our open space as possible. Where the old raised beds were, we'll plant with soil-improving clovers and wild flowers. For edging, Alex simply reused the old cedar boards from the dismantled raised beds.

While all that digging was happening, I potted up some bush beans, cosmos, forget-me-nots and marigolds, to give them a little head start, in time for planting at the end of May. Oh, and Alex reworked the pea beds and got those planted as well.

We're excited. It's been some years since we've done some serious veggie gardening. This time we're trying some different methods and plants and just looking at all that soil, all that dirt, well, we are inspired by the potential, which is basically the thrum of every gardener's heart.

*It's Monday morning and I woke up certain I had messed up with the path placement in the bed, which Alex happily amended for me. Ah, that's better.

Love Letter To A Maine Seed And Plant Cooperative

2011-04-29T21:07:00.006-04:00

There's one spring Friday that we count down to, beginning in January, when our catalog arrives in the mail, and that's the Fedco Tree Sale. We've held this tradition for ten years and as far as I'm concerned it's got to be one of the best resources for Maine gardeners and farmers. Fedco is a seed and plant cooperative, with a meticulously detailed catalog, chock-full of fascinating and even radical advice and information. We spend hours combing through and dog-earing pages, our eyes bigger than our .11 acre lot and we dream of growing green things during the barren winter. Every year we say we have no more room for trees and every year we bring home more trees. As this Fedco trip falls on or near Arbor Day and the Beltane sabbat, our Fedco trip has become part of our spiritual, Earth-honoring ritual as well.

Spending a couple of hours traipsing though a corrugated metal building in relative dimness, sloshing through puddles and sawdust, searching for the perfect tree or shrub, just beginning to leaf out, shouldn't be all that exciting and rewarding. Oh, but how it is! We inevitably meet friends and family who are there to do the same and we exchange news about how it grows at our gardens and farms. We chat with the knowledgeable Fedco staff and other farmers who join in the sale and we always return home a bit wiser. (On other floors or in a second building, we shuffle through seed packets and admire the Moose Tubers, or seed potatoes.)

And once home, we unpack our carefully wrapped trees and their gorgeous root balls and work the rest of the weekend to dig holes and plant our precious loot. In ten springs, we've planted well-over thirty trees and shrubs. We will plant eight this weekend. We'll have to keep the seedlings we purchased from Checkerberry Farm by sunny windows a bit longer and in a few more weeks we'll be able to direct-sow the seeds. But the trees; the trees that are alive and already unfolding tender green leaves, those we plant now, and all thanks to Fedco and their amazing Tree Sale weekend.

My Mother, The Poet

2011-04-27T10:12:00.007-04:00

Three years ago, today, April 27, 2008, my mother went away from us forever. I miss her, of course. It helps to remember her and her stories and the gifts she did leave behind. My mother was talented and remarkable in so many ways. She could design and sew whole sets and period or whimsical costumes for a community play. She wrote plays. She designed and drew in meticulous pen and ink, the theater posters. She wrote music. And so many other things, like poetry. She wrote this beautiful poem when our daughter, Olivia was born in 1997 and we used it a year later in Olivia's UU dedication ceremony. She was so many things to me, but for today, I remember my mother, the poet.

Olivia Elemental
by Janine Stafford, 1997

Earth

An olive stone from heaven fell,
Lay buried in a fecund hill-
A mound, a tree, a hut, a tell,
A grove anchored by labored till.

With roots in earth we raise the pale-
A timbered wall. A village call
A home, a place from which to sail,
To trade, to deck the festive hall.

Within to dwell, a hearth of coals
To cook upon. With oils anoint
The blessed feasts, the babies's souls,
The lintel post, the compass point...

Air

We nomads fly like ravens do
As embers rise to silvered skies,
As ash becomes transformed to dew,
As wat'ry susurration sighs

Upon the plain. The currents loft
A dampened breeze from cloud to cloud.
The winds are kind, the air is soft, The groves are
ripe, the people proud.

The dew becomes a torrent then,
While lonely Noah sails the flood.
Until a dove returns to men
An olive leaf, that promised bud...

Fire

A tree becomes a torch. A wheel
Is forged from flame and sweat
(Which is the fuel upon the steel).
The heat of flame and oil are met

Upon the hearth, and pots are cast.
Amphorae brim with wine and oil,
And fury like a comet's blast*
Explodes on Troy to burn and boil.

Etruscans flee to Rome's new shores
And hearths are laid and babies born,
And lamplight glows within the doors
As mothers spin, as sheep are shorn...

Water

As Pisces** swims through cosmic seas
An icy comet soars the skies.
On Tuscan hills the olive trees
Are christened when Aurora cries.

Where living waters gently flow
As liquid as the flood, as birth,
The tender shoots of olives grow,
A dove's green promise brought to earth.

Beneath a Roman harbor's quays
The ancient oils anoint the wrecks,
And spread within the planet's seas
A baptism of foaming flecks...

Coda

A single babe, an olive stone,
The bud, the living fruit, the tree-
Each makes a story of its own
As life, as possibility.

*Hale Bopp comet was visible in 1997, and we could see it in the dawn sky while I labored with Olivia.

**Olivia was born March 13, which makes her a Pisces, The Fish.

Laundry Room Redux

2011-04-25T13:20:00.004-04:00

In case you don't know this about me, I adore doing laundry in my home (at the laundromat? Not so much.) It took us a week of sorting, purging, reorganizing, painting and moving appliances and shelves, but we've finally finished the laundry room make-over. It used to look like this and though it still serves all the same functions-mudroom, laundry, recycling area, storage of seasonal, cleaning and cooking/canning items as well as tools-we've cleaned it up a bit. We kind of had too, since our ten-year-old washing machine blew a four inch hole in it's drum a year ago. Yes, we've been without a washer for a year. Sad face. Mostly because of this room and it's tiny footprint. We did have our last washer/dryer set stacked and we didn't want that this round, which of course, just made moving anything more challenging which meant other things became a priority and we just did the wash down the hill at the ol' Ocean Suds. Our ten-year-old dryer is still going strong, so we simply brought clothes back here to dry, either in the dryer on on the clothesline.

So after watching our two local appliance dealers' web pages like hawks for monthly deals and researching Energy-Star, low-water/HE washers, we lucked out last week when we saw the one we wanted go on sale at Vic's. Sweet! (If you're local, the folks at Vic's, downtown Saco are super good to work with. If you're not local to me, I encourage you to check out your locally-owned appliance store. Often the deals are better than what you can get at your big-box store, they sometimes have a dented and scratched section, and all the while, you are supporting a local business!)

The wall color is Olympic's No-VOC April Sky D56-1.

In this space, we plan to install one of these much-coveted-by-me airing racks.

This side of the room is the mini-mudroom area, for coats, boots, and a shelf for baskets full of seasonal items. I just switched out the hats and mittens for beach towels and bathing suits. Alex found a piece of interior trim we had salvaged from the Bradstreet homestead and we used left-over hooks to make this coat rack. I'm hoping I will soon be able to put away the last of the winter coats, once warm weather arrives and stays.

Every nook and corner is used and this time we took extra care to put things within easy reach. It won't be long before we will be reaching for these berry baskets for a day of picking.

Ah, it feels so good to have our laundry room back and in good order!

Shame And Blame Where It Belongs Regarding The Objectification Of Children

2011-04-21T09:55:00.017-04:00

Yesterday morning, I had CNN on while folding some laundry and caught this opinion piece. I was initially stunned at the title, which refers to little girls as tramps, and as the piece continued and the reporter descended into gender tropes about how boys are easier to raise than girls, and LZ Granderson (the one offering his opinion) referred to his own son, I had to shut the tv off because I couldn't stand to listen any longer. When I later read Granderson's opinion piece, I was further disgusted with his casual mention of causing bodily harm to his son; the threat disguised as humor, "my son knows I would break both of his legs long before I would allow him to walk out of the house with his pants falling off his butt", he wrote. He later writes, "the way I see it, my son can go to therapy later if my strict rules have scarred him." This is the goal? We want to control and threaten our children to the point of scarring and needing therapy later in life? And I'm supposed to nod my head and agree with this opinion?

Look, I had all kinds of ideas about parenting long before I was a parent. I was never going to have video games in my house, for instance. Of course that was an uninformed decision, as in, I hadn't actually begun sharing my life with two other young people who would have their own needs, ideas and opinions about things. I never thought I would be the parent to take my young daughter to the mall for our biannual Sears portraits (when we were still doing such things), dressed like a princess, either. But when four year old Olivia was insistent that she wanted to wear the dress, I checked myself. I had to stop and think about why I objected and then I had to think about why or if my objections mattered. I soon decided that preserving my daughter's dignity, will and need to self-identify was far more important than my need to project some sort of ill-formed, base-less prejudice onto her. And then I thought, this is her, this is where she's at, age four. It was the making of a positive memory.

In the Granderson piece and in much of the commentary since, there's a focus on who is to blame for kids' attire (most specifically, "Yeah, that 8-year-old girl was something to see all right. ... I hope her parents are proud. Their daughter was the sexiest girl in the terminal, and she's not even in middle school yet.") If you've never been shopping for children, I will tell you, it's not an easy task. What with the constant growing and wearing, kids can be tough to fit, let alone furnish with an entire wardrobe. Shopping for kids attire is further challenging because of what is available, or isn't. Not everyone has the financial means or access to shop the likes of Mini Boden, Hannah Anderson or Land's End, which all feature fun, cotton, mostly classic clothing, but at not exactly bargain prices. For many, this type of clothing may only be available through catalog or on-line shopping, which requires the use of a credit card, which assumes you have one. Other clothing options might range from what's available at the local mall, big box store, thrift shop or dollar store, the styles and material varying widely. What is purchased can further be limited by transportation access, whether the store is within walking distance or hours it is open. There lies within this blame the assumption that all parents have the resources, access and availability to shop a certain way (ostensibly the best way, or the appropriate way). There's also an ableist aspect to this assumption, too. Shopping with children in spaces where children's clothing is sold means navigating closely positioned racks, where clothing is hung high, and it often requires moving through crowds and covering some distance. Shopping for clothing can mean holding, hanging, sorting, looking, touching and folding, in spaces that don't provide seating or a place to rest, or hang a bag or a shelf to place a parcel. And doing so, presumably, with child(ren), that will need to be helped, dressed, assisted, nurtured, nourished and kept safe. When we assign blame to parents regarding what we might deem an inappropriate clothing choice for a child (especially what we presume to be a girl child), we are doing so without knowing anything about a parent's (or childs') path to acquiring that item of clothing. (This doesn't even address the ageist aspect of this, by asking how one determines the age of the person they are looking at? Granderson assumes the girl he was scrutinizing was eight; how did he know?)

As far as looking askance at a child and tsk tsking, shaking our heads and leaping to words like tramp, whore, slut or prostitute, that's contributing to the on-going objectification of children. It's called slut-shaming. Pigtail Pals addressed slut-shaming with regards to Granderson's piece, yesterday:

Clothing, or lack of clothing, does not make someone a prostitute. When we are cavalier about the degrading terms we use for our girls, we belittle their inherent worth, and desensitize ourselves to what it really means to be a prostitute. From what I hear, it isn’t a great lifestyle. The proximity I had with it as an investigator revealed it to be brutal, lonely, and dangerous. Our culture sends mixed messages to young women to be hot and sexy and available at all times, and then as soon as these women or girls become sexual agents and act on their desires they face the repressive push-back from society and are branded sluts and whores. Confused? So am I.

I'm frankly more concerned with raising my children in a rape culture than I am their fashion choices. When news outlets like CNN refuse to cover the rape of an 11- year-old girl in Texas by a gang of 18, March 2011, and the New York Times ran a piece that refers to the gang-rape as "vicious assault" and goes on to comment about the 11-year-old victim, "she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said.", something is incredibly wrong. It's unconscionable to me that as a society, our first leap is to question, judge and comment on the clothing of a gang-rape victim, but not question why the 18 boys and men were raping. It's indicative of a rape culture that as a society, we objectify girls and women (and all children)and critique their clothing, rather than teaching people not to rape. Instead we scold, judge and blame and slut-shame girls and women for their clothing because we deem their choices to be trashy or attention-seeking and asking for it. Just like the presumably eight-year-old girl in Granderson's judgmental piece was asking for it, by wearing sweat-pants with Juicy printed on the bottom.

This may be the culture we live in, but that doesn't mean that I, as a parent to two, independent, bright people with needs and opinions of their own, have to like it and feed into it. When Olivia long ago decided a bikini swimsuit was a better fit for her, I trusted her to know what she wanted and needed. I wasn't about to admonish her with warnings of how she would be objectified by others, or how others might prey on her because she simply wanted to be comfortable. Of course my hope for her is that none of that would happen, but in no way was I about to lay that burden and blame at her feet if it did. What I do want to tell my children is that it's no one's business what they wear or why they wear it. And Mr. Granderson, if that makes me my children's "40-year-old BFF", so be it.

*With thanks to my 14-year-old daughter, Olivia, for permission to use both the photo and story and for contributing to this post with her thoughtful discussion about this issue.

A Glimpse Of Their Days: Learning In Freedom

2011-04-15T12:36:00.001-04:00

One of these days I'll both a)shake this bit of writer's block I have and b)make time to write. Until that happens, here's a glimpse, a mere hint at our days. This is just some of what we do instead of school. There's hours spent with focused attention, which leads to mastering skills. Passions are followed, inspiration is acted upon and discussion happens every moment. There's enormous amounts of independence, on bikes, building fires, crafting, designing, creating, learning. There's visits to the friend with goats, the friend that bikes all day long with them, from one end of town to the other. There's the books read and discussed and treasured. There's music found, absorbed and knitted into their lives. There's the presence of a parent, a confidant, a friend, for hand holding, for hugs, for comfort, assistance, support and fun shared. It's days spent in consensual living. We live without school's interference in our lives, our days belong to us, to them. This is just a little of what their days look like.

April:: Emerging

2011-04-11T11:13:00.000-04:00

Forty Is Fine And Fabulous

2011-04-06T22:34:00.004-04:00

So yes, today is my birthday and yes, I'm forty years old. Navin R. Johnson's voice rings in my head, and my story, you ask? The one that goes it was never easy for me, I was born to hippies in 1971...I remember the days ridin' in the VW Bus and performing in musical theater in downeast Maine... Oh anyway, yes, I've had forty years on this good earth and though undeniably I'm aging, I don't feel all that old, except when I think about how lately people are complaining that hearing Kurt Cobain on the oldies station makes them feel old, well, 1971 begins to seem like days of yore when compared to 1994.

me, age 40

And knowing myself, I knew I wanted to keep today simple, as in, no big bash for me, thanks (maybe later I'll throw a party when the my birthday isn't the focus) and as usual, Olivia, Adam and Alex lavished the love on me. We started the day with bagels, sweet cards, a bouquet of tulips and thoughtful gifts, including this (I had no idea a new one was out. Alex and I didn't love the last one, so we're keeping our fingers crossed, Jean Auel! I'm certain we'll still fight for dibs of this copy, regardless.)

Then, because spring puts me in the mood for a mini-road trip and it's one of my favorite places to visit, we all went to Ikea together, where we had lunch, including cake, and did a small amount of shopping. Mostly we did what we always do when we visit and we took notes and snapped photos for our home idea book.

It's just inspiring and fun to be there and to examine ways to use space in our own home. More than anything, it was just a good way to spend the day with the people I treasure most. Forty is good. Forty is fine by me. Now excuse me while I go listen to a true oldie.

Cake, Tea And Catalogs At The Kitchen Table

2011-04-04T14:33:00.004-04:00

Here On Bradstreet, we're all about family traditions and ritual. We think it's important to mark time and to recognize those moments, large and small in our lives. We're big on building and recording memories, laughing and loving together. As such, we were at the Bradstreet homestead this weekend to celebrate my father-in-law's seventy-eight years. Nana made a delicious lunch for us and we brought a cake from our favorite local bakery.

Nana poured tea, Papa cut the cake (into gargantuan servings, with instruction from Adam) and later, the kids played a duet on the antique and mostly tuneless piano.

After a walk in the snow covered woods and various cat naps, we were all seated around the pine table again for more tea. For some reason a ritual has evolved where we sit at the table and peruse the countless, odd catalogs that come in my in-law's mail. We find this relaxing, I think, and everyone does it, and for the nearly twenty-one years that I've known them, we've had this ritual. When someone discovers some particularly dubious item, it's pointed out to all so we can share in the derisive mirth.

I sincerely hope that no one in our family feels the need to invest in charcoal filters for their undies (or fashions for their yard goose, for that matter.) These catalogs are always full of such items, varying from the seemingly plausible usefulness, to the bizarre and ridiculous (unless of course you want your garden goose to glam it up rockabilly style.) While we can not picture ourselves wanting fake ivy for our fence or giant plastic hollow rocks for our garden or ever wishing we had a fancy lace dickie to wear with our v-neck sweater, we might secretly find that one incredibly useful thing that someone had the notion to invent. And that's why we enjoy sitting and laughing together over stacks of catalogs. It's that combination of the hideous awkwardness, shared snickering and the thrill of discovery, sitting together on a weekend afternoon. It's one of those rituals, like cake on birthdays, that builds family traditions. Tea and cake and tunes played on the piano and local gossip, those rituals come easily to mind when I think on the things that make us a family. But it's those little things too, like discovering and sharing in the absurd around a kitchen table that makes us family. And I've got the pictures to prove it.

March: In The Garden

2011-03-28T14:09:00.008-04:00

It's been a cold March this year and I wasn't at all certain we would be able to get out and do our spring garden clean-up as so many Mainers still have snow covered lawns. It turned out, however, that this weekend was the perfect chance to get out there and rake, trim, prune, and mulch. Alex (thankfully, as it's a dreaded chore), tackled pruning the sixty feet of rosa rugosa hedge, and he has the thorn infested hands to prove it, despite the thick leather gloves he was wearing.

Some of the fruit trees and the pussy willow needed attention too, and now we have some stems to force into blossom for the house. Because the weekend was still so chilly, and only reaching the mid-30sF, burning a lot of the garden debris in the fire pit kept us warm and made clean-up easy. Plus it scented the crisp air with good, woodsy smells. Saturday afternoon, Alex and I even ate our simple lunch and had our tea around the fire, enjoying a bit of couple time as the kids were off with friends for the day.

On Sunday, the bikes were reclaimed and taken for their first ride of the year, and it has been duly noted that Adam's bike needs replacement, as I don't think his knees are meant to be reaching his handle bars. Always growing, those kids.

As we raked on Sunday, we noticed the cedar waxwings were visiting again, and they've been fairly constant companions all of March. They've completely stripped the two high bush cranberry viburnums and they continue to eat the fruit of the ornamental crab apple.

The sparrows are already cleaning out and claiming their nesting boxes and the cooing of the three pairs of mourning doves kept us company while we worked. Chickadees, also were hanging about, as they seem to come out when we come out, like the cardinals do; like neighbors looking to chat over the fence. We've had the occasional flock of starlings hanging about also, and in one episode last week, had us thinking for a moment that we had some poor, trapped, wheeking mammal in our chimney, when it was only one starling at the top of our chimney, chattering, clicking and chirping away.

By Sunday afternoon, we all sat together around the fire pit, enjoying our days' labor in the garden. The kids told us about their bike ride and when we finally became too chilled with the wind blasting at our backs, we went inside for corn bread and baked beans. It feels good to get this preliminary garden work done, as it did to be outside for two days straight, in the bright sun and among the birds. We saw signs of violets and crocus and daffodils; rhubarb heads emerging, wrinkled and red, buds fattening. Soon we'll have warmer days. Until then, spring in the garden marches forward, with a little love from friends.

Vernal Equinox: All Things In Balance

2011-03-21T21:25:00.012-04:00

Easter for us arrives with the vernal equinox. Unfortunately for us, however, we did not have a repeat of last year's warm temperatures. We've had one day that neared 70F this month and there's very little green around and so far, we have only one lonely crocus blooming. We did have bright sunshine and most of the snow had melted (even though, as I write, a sticky snow is falling and has already coated the the trees.) Ah spring!

Expecting family for dinner later in the day, Alex prepared a lemon meringue pie. (Note, we shall look for a new recipe and cross out the ill-conceived recipe in one rather famous cook book.) Still, his pie looked and tasted great, even if it didn't come out as the recipe promised.

While the pie was being assembled, Olivia played for us. I spent a few moments enjoying the prettiness of Easter in our home.

Late morning, we urged the kids outside to hunt for eggs. I remember other years when they seemed so small and these years seemed such a long way off. Now look at them. I find myself having many more of these moments these days; moments of stunning realization that my two babies aren't babies any longer (frequently this knowing is coupled with the sense that they are allowing me these traditions, these markers of their childhood, as if they know I know and how fleeting it all seems for me. Don't listen to people who tell you children aren't wise.)

Later, as we gathered around the table with family, I listened to our children discuss current events and politics, among other things, and all I could think was these two young people can hold their own. They are of strong minds and hearts and how very fortunate we are to be in their presence.

So we marked the vernal equinox. With baskets and eggs in colors of the dawn, we greeted spring and the coming growing season. The pie didn't set, the day wasn't warm, a few other things were amiss, and in some ways the day was imperfect, though perfect was never the goal, so I'm not sure that is the correct word. Whether it was the change in light, the perigee moon, the change we could feel coming, the anticipation perhaps, that tinted everything with a slightly dream-like, tilted quality, the day was celebrated, welcomed and will be remembered. Like the equinox, the day was in equal balance of positive and negative, light to dark, day to night. Someday we'll say to each other, remember that spring when you were eleven? When you were fourteen, and Daddy's pie didn't set, but we ate it anyway and it was like lemon sauce? Remember that?

Over The Rainbow: Fourteenth Birthday

2011-03-14T19:23:00.005-04:00

This weekend we celebrated Olivia's fourteenth birthday. On Saturday, as we readied the house for Olivia and her friends, she made the cake for her party. For weeks she planned out a strategy for constructing a six-layer rainbow cake, similar in construction and appearance to this one. With the hope of keeping things as simple and efficient as possible and since this was her first big cake undertaking, she decided to use two cake mixes and canned icing. It still took a good four hours to make. She found the gel colors to be the easiest to work with and she was able to get the saturated colors she desired. With much patience and planning, she ended up with a fabulous, simply huge cake, and it came out beautifully.

Sunday

After a Sunday brunch that was more like lunch (shush! We forgot to set our clocks ahead before bed, okay?), we asked Olivia to sit and open her presents already because we couldn't stand it anymore. Funnily enough, she was happy to oblige.

With hugs and smiles and thank yous all around, she was down to her last gift and Alex and I were trying to keep from shooting each other sly glances. And then she started opening her gift.

She opens the box and finds...a bag of brown rice and a can of tomato sauce and...??

I've so enjoyed my smart phone and it just seemed like a good tool for her to have, too. She was beyond thrilled and grateful and sweet. She's been getting apps and filling her contacts and calendar since then. She told me this afternoon it's like being able to take her whole life places with her.

After a few hours getting acquainted with her phone, we went out for some dinner and a stop at one of our favorite haunts for some books and music. When we came home, still on our old time and still full of energy, we had more cake, after which we snuggled together on the sofa to watch a movie Olivia had been wanting to see.

I think fourteen will be a good year for her. These years are challenging for most, and she's certainly had her own hurdles, but everytime she just comes out stronger and more confident and mindful. Everyday we are overwhelmed with pride and love for her and here's the thing--she returns it. We all know we are loved and adored by her and we feel exactly the same about her. Happy Birthday, our darling girl!

The Cardinal Song Promise

2011-03-12T09:39:00.004-05:00

I had my cup of coffee out on the deck for the first time this year. The moment I stepped out, the cardinals burst into loud, joyful song, like they were happy to have me around again and were ready to share this almost-spring day with me.

Today we are spiffing up the house for Olivia's party with her friends this afternoon. We will celebrate our firstborn's fourteen years walking this earth tomorrow. I feel about to burst with song, like the cardinals, just being able to be with her and know her. My promise to her is that when I feel my tremendous love for her welling up and threatening to overflow in tears, I will try, my darling girl, to sing instead.