10.27.09
Remains of the day, remains of the garden
Yesterday evening, I took the camera out to the backyard to try to capture the strange and beautiful pearlescent light that’s been hovering lately. While my eyes saw things as bathed with silvery light, it was just too dark for shooting without a tripod. These couple of shots are the least blurry of the bunch–the first is looking over the backyard to the west, and the second is of my asparagus berries. Pretty, huh?
I’m just waiting for the first killing frost–so far, the nasturtiums and the artichoke act like it’s still high summer, but wowsa–is it ever cold this morning! 36 degrees while I stood out with the kiddos for their morning bus a few minutes ago.
As we trudged up the hill toward the east, A. said, “Look at the fogwork! It’s beautiful.” The clouds were cresting and curling in that same amazing light as our teeth chattered and we kissed goodbye for the day.
10.24.09
Pumpkin Patch
Suyematsu Farms, B.I.
The guiding rule for the kiddos is they must be able to pick up and carry their pumpkin. S. managed to lug this one to the wagon–it weighed in at 25 lbs! I hope at least a pound of that is pumpkin seeds to roast and eat later.
The air at the farm was full of autumn smells that took me right back to childhood: steaming hot horses, damp straw bales, sweet clean smell of squash.
10.20.09
Transferrable skills
I read an interesting paper today in preparation for one of my classes: Gail Stygall’s “Resisting Privilege: Basic Writing and Foucault’s Author Function.”
She notes that 90% of teachers’ comments on basic writing is negative. You can just see the red angry circles, slashes, corrections, etc. on the kind of papers Stygall describes, and she brings to light an ironic truth: the students that need the most support get the most censure.
So it goes with parenting and my dear first-born. I realized something tonight after a particularly trying interaction: while my instinct is to correct and censure and scold, she needs me to praise her efforts and intentions and look for opportunities to praise. Turns out that being a student and being a parent are recursive roles.
10.17.09
The Oikos, post 1
Hestia’s at her mirror here. Changes within the household abound, and this week posed a particular challenge.
S.’s been sick for more than a week beginning last Friday, the kind of sickness that recedes and leaves a bouncing, happy girl one hour and rears up to leave a languishing, glassy-eyed and coughing wreck the next hour. B. and I were able to share care-taking responsibilities for Friday-Sunday. Monday I stayed with her, Tuesday B. took off of work to be with her, Wednesday she came with me to Seattle (picking K. up from the airport, etc.), and then by Thursday she was feeling fine but hanging onto a cough. So I didn’t send her to school, but took her with me to UW. We loaded her up with cough drops and a thick scarf and she didn’t cough once on the bus. She read and did schoolwork while I was in class, and felt mighty grown-up.
I have a feeling that the question of what one does with quasi-sick kids will rear its head again.
The dinner routine has settled into much the same pattern as last week:
Mon: I man the panini press
Tues: leftover soup from B’s Sunday Soup pot
Wed: crockpot dinner
Thurs: hodge podge or another crockpot
Fri: pizza and salad
This Friday, we ordered take-out pizza from a new place here on Bainbridge, Modern Pie. We got ham and pineapple with black olives (not by a long shot the most interesting toppings they offer). It tasted like our homemade pizza crusts (I couldn’t tell that their pizza had been baked in a brick oven)–which is to say, good, but a bit heavy. They use a raw tomato sauce that’s really different and excellent (the fontina sticks tasted a bit like bruschetta).
Because of this week’s particular demands (including me being in Seattle all day Tues, Wed, and Thurs), the old homestead is in sad shape and the weekend has never felt so welcome. Saturday cleaning, here we come!
10.13.09
Little sponges
On the way to the airport, 5-year-old A. says to me:
“I know a good way to get money for a Wii, Mama. There’s a thing called My Gold Envelope where you send gold jewelry, gold watches, or any gold you have lying around. The gold goes to a refinery, and they pay you by turning it into cash. A small amount can be enough for a down payment for a car or a flat screen t.v.”
Oh, really?
“Uh huh. And there’s also a thing called Bump-Its and they last all day long. They bump up your hair and they’re super-secure so they won’t fall out! That would be good for you, Mama.”
Uhh, no. No, no no no no no. And no more Qubo!
10.01.09
They don’t call history his story for nothing
S., trying to choose a historical figure to depict for a school project, and frustrated by the ideas K. and I have been pitching to her:
“I don’t want to dress up as a boy and I don’t want to be a dead wife!”
09.25.09
Ordway jogathon
A beautiful sunny day on the BHS track, lots of energetic kids, fresh white jogathon t-shirts, and an orange Sharpie in my hand = smiling for hours. Here I’m telling S. “Good job, kiddo!”
When we drew bright orange slashes down the kindergarteners’ shirts to mark their first lap, they stopped completely and stared in horror and confusion. Grownups writing on me with marker?! It took them a couple of laps around to get used to it.
S’s new blue Chucks.
And A’s hand-me-down Keens. Those things last forevah.
4th, 3rd, 2nd, 1st, and kindergarteners, you ran so well!
09.07.09
Soccer son
A’s first soccer game was this last Saturday, and he rocked! Unabashedly proud parent here–he sprinted up and down the pint-sized field, making the team’s only goal of the game. More importantly, he passed the ball to teammates and got up again when he tripped over the tangle of kicking legs.
08.11.09
New game/old game
7:15 pm last night:
K. and S. are playing checkers on the ferry from Friday Harbor to Anacortes. The boat is lurching more than usual, and S. looks up from the board.
“Ugh. K, are you gonna insult me if I say I’m a little seasick?”
“No, of course not…weirdo.”
S. laughs, and I think what a good sport she is, how they’re bantering without fighting, and a warm motherly glow spreads through me until I realize S. is cackling with glee at finally jumping two of K’s guys in a row.
07.30.09
Miscellaneous summer
Cruel heat wave in the NW = keeping doused with water, either by hose or by wave.
The kids’ sand castle at Old Man House Beach.
Point No Point was a great outing a couple of days ago with lots of Bainbridge friends.
Last night’s concert at the park was Louisiana zydeco with Whozyamama, perfect music for a hot summer evening.
The kids found a water source right away, and yep, the one manning the watergun sprinkler would be mine.
